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Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

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Freedom 417Marc laughed and <strong>the</strong>n turned serious. “I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to need this th<strong>in</strong>g.The first one I had lasted me five years. Who knows how long I’m go<strong>in</strong>gto have to eat with this one.”After breakfast, Tom and I sat and watched as Marc played chesswith Jhon Durán for a bit. None <strong>of</strong> us knew where th<strong>in</strong>gs were go<strong>in</strong>gfrom here, but Arteaga seemed to be <strong>the</strong> center <strong>of</strong> attention among <strong>the</strong>group. Eventually he walked over to us and said, “We are go<strong>in</strong>g to go ona helicopter today. One <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> guards told me. Expect helicopters.”“Really? Helos? They’re go<strong>in</strong>g to take us out <strong>of</strong> here to do <strong>the</strong> examsand stuff?” I suddenly felt <strong>the</strong> urge to pee, and I walked away from everybodyto do my bus<strong>in</strong>ess. Suddenly, as I was stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>re, I heard<strong>the</strong> familiar noise <strong>of</strong> helos dropp<strong>in</strong>g down.“Keith! Helos! Keith, helos!” I heard Marc yell<strong>in</strong>g for me. I zippedup, confused as hell about what this meant. For years one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> worstsounds com<strong>in</strong>g out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> jungle was <strong>the</strong> bhwhup bhwhup bhwhup <strong>of</strong> ahelicopter’s blades slic<strong>in</strong>g up <strong>the</strong> air. The adrenal<strong>in</strong>e started pump<strong>in</strong>g,and <strong>the</strong> hairs stood up on my arms. As I looked out over <strong>the</strong> tops <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>trees r<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g our clear<strong>in</strong>g, I saw two Russian built M–17 helos descend<strong>in</strong>gand go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to hover.If Arteaga hadn’t told me just m<strong>in</strong>utes before that helos were com<strong>in</strong>gI would have run. As it was, I was torn. I kept look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> guards,wait<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>the</strong>m to fan out so <strong>the</strong>y could cover all <strong>of</strong> us with fire. Instead<strong>of</strong> do<strong>in</strong>g that, each guard called out a s<strong>in</strong>gle name: “Raimundowith me,” “Erasmo with me,” “Flores with me,” “Tom with me”—all<strong>the</strong> way down <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>e. I wondered if this was how <strong>the</strong>y did it. All <strong>of</strong>us paired up with a guard who would <strong>the</strong>n shoot us. I could see <strong>the</strong>y’dprepared for this and were ready for us. For once, <strong>the</strong> FARC seemeddiscipl<strong>in</strong>ed and organized. Maybe that was all <strong>the</strong>y were good for, kill<strong>in</strong>ghostages when <strong>the</strong> rescue helos showed up. Tom was taken near<strong>the</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>e, while Marc and I were at <strong>the</strong> back end.Marc looked at me. “Do we go?”I shrugged. “At this po<strong>in</strong>t, yes. But we’ve got to be smart.”

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