Real Survival Stories - Aid Worker Kidnapped: Daring Bolt for Freedom (Part 2 of 2)

Episode Date: January 30, 2025

We return to Jeff Frazier as he prepares for an audacious prison break. In the dead of night, with the guards distracted, he’ll make his move. Can he overcome the many obstacles in his path and escape into the jungle? Or will he be caught… and if so, what punishment awaits? A Noiser production, written by Joe Viner. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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A man and a woman creep along the shadowy verge of a dirt road. Behind them, up a hill to the east, is a fifteen-foot metal fence topped with razor wire. To the west sits a dense shantytown, a sea of concrete and corrugated iron. Beyond that, at the crest of a slope gently rising above the houses, lies a clump of thick jungle, darkly silhouetted against the moonlit sky. That's where the man and woman are headed. If they can get there, they'll be safe, at least for tonight. But if they're spotted before they reach the tree line, they'll either be captured or shot.

They walk slowly, their heads lowered, carefully avoiding stepping on sticks or broken glass, anything that could draw attention to them. The woman is Haitian, small and wiry. But the man is tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and long arms. six feet with broad shoulders and long arms. His head is wrapped in a swaddle of black fabric, but a few wisps of scraggly dark facial hair escape the makeshift mask. His name is Jeff Frazier.

He's an American, and in this dangerous neighborhood, foreigners are easy targets. But however unsafe it is out here, it's better than where they've come from. For the past 28 days, Jeff and the woman, whose name is Stephanie, have been living in captivity, locked in a filthy cell, suffering abuse at the hands of the gang who kidnapped them. The hostages have been trying to negotiate a ransom for their release to no avail. Finally, after putting up with all they could bear, Jeff and Stephanie found another way out, the window. And now they are well on their way to freedom.

They just need to reach those trees. But suddenly, something stops them in their tracks. We look up ahead and we see two gang guards with weapons. They're maybe a hundred, 150 meters up. The guards stand chatting by the side of the road. Their AK-47s slung casually across their chests. Jeff's stomach clenches. He can practically hear Stephanie's heart beating by his side. The escaped prisoners hold their breath and start slowly backing away. Too late. They've been seen. The guards unsling their rifles and prowl forward to investigate.

They start running toward us. We could reasonably run, but would certainly risk being shot at. Remember, this is the place where they shoot all day long, and they're going to assume we're a rival gang if we're running away. Jeff and Stephanie have just seconds to make a decision. Do they give themselves up and face the inevitable consequences? Or do they take their chances and run? Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes?

If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we return to Haiti, and to kidnapped humanitarian worker Jeff Frazier. For nearly a month, Jeff has been kept in squalid conditions by a local gang. During that time, he and his fellow hostages have discussed the possibility of escape in the abstract, a last resort, if all other options disappear.

in the abstract, a last resort if all other options disappear. And I would often shoot those conversations down because they were all just dangerous thought patterns to be in. You can really go down a rabbit hole of claustrophobia being in that room. But when Jeff's ransom delivery fails to secure his release, escape seems to be his only option. And one night, he and his fellow hostage Stephanie make their bid for freedom, knowing that one misstep, one moment of misfortune, could get them both killed. I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Network, this is Real Survival Stories. It's May, 2023. It's just before midnight, and 45-year-old Jeff Frazier is loitering by the window of

his cell. He glances over his shoulder at Stephanie. She's standing on an upturned bucket by the door, one eye pressed to a pinhole in the wood, watching the activity of the guards outside. After a pause, Stephanie flashes the signal. All clear. Jeff lifts the red cloth curtain and wraps a length of nylon rope around two of the bars that cover the small window.

Next, he takes a wooden curtain rail and places it flush against the bars, tying it in place with the loose ends of the rope. Then he begins twisting the curtain rail round and round, tightening the knot like a tourniquet until the parallel bars start to bend under the pressure. It's been four weeks since Jeff was kidnapped, a drawn-out ordeal of failed negotiations, psychological torment, and physical abuse. Over the course of that time, Jeff has witnessed the release of several of his fellow hostages. Now he and Stephanie are the only ones left. In the long hours they've spent alone together, a close bond has formed between the two captives,

a friendship that has become a vital source of solidarity and comfort. It's just Stephanie and I, you know, that are in there, the two of us. And so we pass the time by telling stories of each other's homes and talk about better times. And those bonds are absolutely essential to survival. Jeff's negotiations with the gang haven't gone well. After first trying to barter on his own behalf, he subsequently agreed to hand over talks to a team of professional kidnap and ransom specialists assembled by his wife Mary.

Two days ago, one of the guards came to tell him that an agreement had been reached. He was going home. Earlier today, as scheduled, the ransom exchange took place. A courier from Jeff's team met the gang and handed over $13,000 in cash. But the gang didn't uphold their end of the bargain. They took the money, but refused to let Jeff go. It's the final straw. If the kidnappers weren't played by the rules, then neither will he. When they came up with that accord on day 28, I really believed I was getting out.

But we also prepared the escape just in case. Either way, I was getting out on the 28th, right? But that was a poor ultimatum to give myself emotionally, because those two things should not be connected, but they were. I was going to be out on 28, whether I went out the window or went out the door. You know, I was going out. With TD Direct Investing,

new and existing clients could get 1% cash back. Great, that's 1% closer to being part of the 1%. Maybe, but definitely 100% closer to getting 1% cash back with TD Direct Investing. Conditions apply. Offer ends January 31, 2025. Visit td.com slash DI Offer to learn more. or to get a free free offer to learn more. Sweat forms on Jeff's brow as he bends the window bars. Slowly, he is creating an opening wide enough for his bulky frame. He peeks out of the window.

He can see beyond the high wall of the compound. There's a hill sloping up to a patch of jungle about half a mile away. If he and Stephanie can reach those trees under cover of darkness, they'll be away. I thought we had a really strong chance of being successful. We would walk out at like three in the morning when it's quiet. We're hoping for darkness. The rain would have been even better because Haitians hate the rain so they're not out and about. But in the middle of the night we shouldn't run into many people. I estimated we were about a half a mile from the treeline and with military experience and I've been in the

woods a lot, once I get to the tre line, you're not going to find me." From there, Jeff and Stephanie will continue west through the trees, eventually making their way out of gang-controlled territory to freedom. They've decided that tonight's the night to attempt their escape. The guards, flush with cash after the delivery of Jeff's ransom, are throwing themselves a party. Pungent smoke and thumping music drift through from their living quarters. They should be occupied for most of the night.

With any luck, they won't even notice the empty cell until morning. Still, the prisoners have to be discreet. Jeff gets another all- clear signal from Stephanie. He resumes his clandestine handiwork. In tiny quarter inch increments, he widens the gap between the bars. He beckons Stephanie over to the window. They look out across the dark, deserted compound.

The plan was to essentially kind of hide in plain sight with, we had some disguises, I had some black fabric from some clothes that were left behind that I made a mask to cover my face. It's not a bad disguise given their limited resources. But Jeff will still be highly conspicuous out there beyond the compound walls. And when their captors realize he's escaped, the Aerie will be crawling with gang members searching for a tall, broad-shouldered American

and his female Haitian accomplice. They just need to make sure they're far away by the time that happens. At 3 a.m., Jeff finally squeezes himself through the gap in the bars. I went first out the window and hung out outside just for a minute or two because the sounds are very different outside than they are inside. I remember listening, trying to see what I could hear. I was listening for anything. I was especially afraid of dogs kind of outing us.

There's always dogs around and if they see me they're going to start barking at me and then it's over. Jeff pulls his lower half through the window and drops to the ground with a muffled thud. The air is muggy and still. No trace of a tropical breeze. A symphony of insects resonates through the leafy canopy. When Jeff helps Stephanie down from the window, it's clear she's starting to panic. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps. So, I remember when she first came out, she started freaking out. She was essentially

hyperventilating. I had to calm her down, we walked around the side of the building where we had a little bit more cover just to let her kind of settle down. Gradually, Stephanie's breathing returns to normal, but she's understandably agitated. Jeff's military training has left him well equipped to deal with high stress environments and situations. He looks his companion dead in the eye,

wordlessly communicating the need to stay calm and collected. They can't let their nerves get the better of them. Jeff turns and looks across the courtyard to the exit. Our window faced west, and it looked right at a man door in the 15 foot high wall. So that's where we were headed. We needed to walk out that man door. After a brief consultation, it's agreed that Jeff will go first and Stephanie will follow

close behind. She was very nervous and I didn't want her making any choices in that scenario. So I said, do you just follow behind me maybe 10 steps and we'll go. While Stephanie hangs back, Jeff prowls forward in a low crouch, his eyes darting to and fro. This walk to the main exit might be a straight shot, but it takes them out into the middle of the yard, directly in the line of sight of the front porch, where the guards often sit. Jeff creeps onwards, glancing back periodically towards the front of the building.

All clear. Eventually he makes it to the door in the corrugated metal wall. Carefully, cautiously, he pushes against the weathered steel. It opens. He steps outside and looks around for guards. But again, there's no one. He presses his back flat against the wall and waits by the side of the door for Stephanie. He peeks around the corner, but there's no sign of her. Jeff's pulse quickens.

What's taking her so long? Could she have gotten cold feet or been spotted by the guards. A minute goes by, then two. Then, after an eternity, Stephanie appears through the door. Jeff reaches out and pulls her into the shadows. The first stage of their plan is complete. Now they need to start moving towards the trees. But as Jeff and Stephanie appraise their surroundings, they notice something is seriously wrong. One of the tenets of a successful escape was that we would do it under darkness.

Because we have disguises on, but they're not very good disguises. And so we need to be dark out. But unfortunately, once I get outside that 15-foot wall, there's no more trees. There's a ton of trees in the compound, but not outside the compound. And now it's so bright. It's like there's two full moons outside. It is so bright. And the moonlight is not the only setback. As Jeff looks over towards the trees to the west, he realizes that he has made

a potentially disastrous miscalculation. One of the big assumptions that we made was that the wood line was only about 500 meters away, maybe less. And we made that assumption based on the limited view outside that western window. But once I got outside the compound, I could see that it was actually quite a bit further away. In fact, it was probably about a mile and a half away. Worst still, they can now see that they're separated from the trees by a dense tract of housing, a chaotic jumble of concrete shacks, tarpaulin roofs, and corrugated metal fencing.

To reach safety, they will have to navigate this maze. The way these kind of shanty towns are built, their're unpredictable patterns. You really have to know what you're doing to know how to find the sidewalks, so to speak. They meander through these labyrinths in a confusing way. Sometimes 12 inches wide to get through them, but locals know how to pass through, but I sure don't. And so that's a pretty devastating realization that we're not nearly as close to safety as we thought.

Jeff and Stephanie exchange looks. They can't magic up another plan. They don't have a choice. In order to get to those trees, they're gonna have to go through the houses. Both escapees strain their ears, listening out for patrolling guards over the staccato pounding of their hearts. When they're confident the coast is clear, they set off walking along a dirt track that winds down towards the buildings. As part of his humanitarian work, Jeff has spent plenty of time in terribly poor areas like this. And he tries to use his observations about local behavior to their advantage. Our plan is to walk really slowly. Haitians walk really slowly, especially in hilly environments,

because they're not fed well. So they have very low energy. So our idea was to do that. They have very low energy. So our idea was to do that. The escaped prisoners gradually make their way downhill, hope and adrenaline growing with each yard they put between themselves and the compound. So far, so good. Then after a few minutes, Jeff hears voices from somewhere close by. Looking around, he sees two men carrying bundles of sticks walking down the track towards them.

We passed a couple of guys that were coming down the hill having chopped wood in the mountains that day and they're just now making it home from their long hike. But they don't seem to notice us. They continue talking as they walk right by us. Jeff exhales. They're not far from their houses now, just a couple of hundred meters. They round a bend in the track so that they're walking parallel to the buildings, separated by a stretch of scrubland. Every step is a step in the right direction. And then they see something. We continue kind of limping along.

We're fine, there's nobody around. But then we look up ahead and we see two game guards with weapons. There may be a hundred, hundred, 150 meters up. The escaped prisoners freeze. The guards are stood in the middle of the road. Assault rifles slung across their chests. Jeff and Stephanie hold their breath

and start inching quietly back up the track. But they don't get far. The guards look up and immediately clock the pair. They start running toward us. It's essentially too late. I think we could reasonably run, but would certainly risk being shot at. Remember, this is the place where they shoot all day long.

And they're going to assume we're a rival gang if we're running away. Jeff and Stephanie admit defeat. They put their hands up. Game over. Except when the guards come close, Jeff notices a couple of interesting things. These guys are young, certainly not high-ranking members of the gang, which means they're potentially open to bribes. Stephanie is way ahead of him. She starts speaking to the men in Creole. Stephanie brilliantly starts to try to convince them

to help us get to freedom and that, you know, we'll pay them a ransom if they get us to safety. There are pretty reasonable routes out in the dark where they could smuggle us out. The numbers that we're talking are astonishingly high numbers. You know, a thousand dollars US to one of these guys's several years of pay Jeff watches their faces Stephanie talks you can see that the young gang members are interested and They're listening there. They're considering, you know helping us and they said okay

They tell us to call our friends to meet them We're like, we don't have phones. They said, follow us. We follow them deep into the labyrinth. This is cause for a small amount of optimism. It seems Stephanie may have just bartered their way to freedom. They follow the two gang members into the shantytown. It's just as mazey and complex as Jeff had expected.

It would have taken them hours to navigate these tight, twisting alleys. Eventually, they arrive at a cinderblock shack with a slanting metal roof. Jeff and Stephanie are led into a windowless concrete room. They stick us in this room and lock us in and said, hey, we'll be back with a phone. And about 30 minutes later, they do come back with that phone. And they let Stephanie talk. She calls her boss, who is oftentimes helpful, and he agrees. Give me 30 minutes, let me put it together, put it together a couple grand, and we'll find a place to meet you. By now, it must be approaching dawn. Jeff and Stephanie pace around the room, hopeful that her boss will come through for them.

But 30 minutes pass, then an hour. Their hope dwindles. Jeff sits on the floor by the wall and closes his eyes. A depressingly familiar pattern emerges. It's probably like 7 or 8 a.m. We start to see more senior people come into our dark room. They unlock the door and peek their head in and they start telling us lies about how they're going to help us and take us to the airport and they're just trying to figure it out.

But we know better. It's obvious that these people have no intention of helping. They're clearly affiliates of the gang who kidnapped them, and they will shortly return them to the hands of their captors and whatever punishment awaits. Sure enough, at about 10 a.m., the men escort Jeff and Stephanie from the room and into the back of an SUV.

As they pile into the back of an SUV. As they pile into the vehicle, there is still a final glimmer of hope that maybe they really have stumbled across some good Samaritans. But that glimmer is swiftly extinguished when the SUV starts driving up the hill, back towards the compound. back towards the compound. at Noiza.com. It's mid-morning. The SUV trundles upwards, nearing the compound. Sitting slumped on the backseat, Jeff's body jostles from side to side

as the vehicle bumps over the dirt track. I remember when they were driving us back to the compound just devastated because I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen to us aside from I'm captive again but also the violence that was likely to occur. After arriving back at the compound, Jeff and Stephanie are marched across the yard. Jeff glances around at the faces of the onlooking guards. There is a strange atmosphere in the air. I think I was surprised at first when we pulled in

because it was fairly quiet. The higher ups weren't there yet and the lower guards all kind of had their tail between their legs, because they were afraid for their own lives. And if we had successfully escaped, they would probably have all been killed. The guards watch as Jeff and Stephanie are led back into the main building, where they are taken to a different cell, one whose windows haven't been tampered with. There are four other prisoners inside this room.

Two of them are Jeff's security guards, DJ and Reggie, who were kidnapped alongside him some 29 days ago. They don't look pleased to see him. And they were just very upset with us because they believed we had put them in danger also. When we came up missing, when the guys realized that we were missing, you know, everyone was freaking out and they were all forced to to lay on their faces and were being threatened with death and you better tell us where they went and you know they assumed they were complicit and Stephanie and I essentially

had no friends you know at that point. The cruel irony is that following following his failed escape attempt, Jeff is further from freedom now than he ever was before. He slumps to his knees and drops his head into his hands, his filthy, overgrown hair tumbling around his fingers. At this stage, who knows what comes next? Will the gang refuse to negotiate further? Will they hold him hostage for another month, six months, a year?

Clearly there will be repercussions for his escape attempt. The treatment he was receiving before was relative luxury compared with what's to come. The rest of that day was just full of beatings and torture and terror. Those are rough times, just dealing with the utter despair of realizing that on day 28, I was really thinking I was getting out, right? And then now on day 29, 30, 31, all these days, I know that I'm nowhere near getting out, right? And now, now my time has gotten far worse because now anytime somebody has an opportunity

to harass me or give me a hard time or hit me with some stick, they'll do it. In the days after his recapture, Jeff loses his mattress privileges and is forced to sleep on the floor. One of his cellmates gives him a shoe to use as a pillow, and Jeff spends every night curled up on the cold concrete. As well as the beatings, the gang also tightens the rations, providing the prisoners with

even less sustenance than before. We didn't have food, but they also withheld water from us, and that's far worse. If you get truly thirsty, like that messes with you real good. We did get bleach water at some point, and we were all drinking it, you're not supposed to, and you shouldn't. It only makes you more thirsty, but we didn't have much choice. The days grind interminably on. Since his recapture, the guards haven't brought Jeff his cell phone so he hasn't been able to speak to Mary or anyone from his team on the outside. But over the next few days, his fellow hostages make progress with their own negotiations.

One by one, Jeff watches his cellmates secure their freedom. They started letting people go. DJ got out and Reggie got out. And by day 34, it's just Stephanie and I, and then she gets out on day 35. Which I was, of course, thrilled for her. For the first time since this ordeal began, Jeff is alone. That got bad fast. Having no one to talk to all day long, except for these guards who just come in and harass you and no food, little water, that whole thing, gosh, I was imploding quickly. It is devastating to be alone.

It's hard to explain the level of emotional destruction that comes from being alone, but it's significant. Jeff's despair threatens to become all-consuming. Utterly exhausted, physically and mentally, it's increasingly difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But he tries to suppress the demons, to keep thinking as rationally as he can. I'm an eternal optimist. The most rational thing is that I will get out. That is the most likely thing. And so you have to be super disciplined at pointing your brain to that. That is optimism. There's reason to hope, but it's just so difficult in the meantime to get through it.

Three days after Stephanie's release, a guard brings Jeff his cell phone. He's getting a call from Billy, the negotiator recruited by his team on the outside. Billy tells him that discussions with the kidnappers are ongoing. Currently, they're trying to organize a second ransom exchange. But to avoid a repeat of the last time, they have a new plan. My team has unbeknownst to me has been working hard since the failed ransom attempt to reestablish trust with the gang and demand a live exchange. So they're willing to pay again a smaller amount,

but it has to be a live exchange. And so meaning I have to be present at the time, they hand money and they'll do a one-for-one, right? None of this, take the money, go up the hill, and decide if you're going to bring Jeff, right? We're only going to get the money if we see Jeff and you let him go. Surprisingly, the gang agrees to these demands.

Later that day, another man steps into his cell and tells Jeff they have an accord that is an agreement for his release. It's hard to trust the gang's promises, but this seems like a major moment, like a light has been turned back on. And I'm of course thrilled because I assumed I was going to be there for weeks, you know, given the whole escape thing that we're essentially going to start over. So I'm thrilled that they've gotten a cord. There are still details to hammer out, including where the exchange will happen. And this proves a major sticking point.

So you can imagine the tensions around location preference for a live exchange. My team wants it to happen in an area that's safe for them, and the gang wants it to happen in an area that's safe for them. And so they spend days arguing about this. Jeff is stuck in excruciating limbo. Negotiations could collapse at any moment. He spends the hours praying and sleeping and willing his team to agree to a compromise. Jeff has now learned that US federal law enforcement have become involved in securing his release.

Members of the FBI have flown out to Haiti and are helping to coordinate the ransom drop. Jeff relayed this information to the gang, hoping it would spook them into letting him go. To some extent it worked. His kidnappers are clearly keen to get the ransom money and wash their hands of this troublesome American. But talk of the FBI has also made them extremely skittish. Eventually, after 48 hours of arguing over a location for the exchange,

things suddenly go south. One of the more senior kidnappers, a gang member who Jeff has dubbed Chef 2, barges into the cell apoplectic with rage. Chef 2 comes running in and is hitting me and screaming at my team while he's on the phone and saying, there's no accord, you know, we have no agreement, you're going to die here. It's just total breakdown of the whole process. I was so confident I was getting out that I had cleaned the room and was ready to go. To realize I was going to have to stay for quite a bit longer was just crushing, absolutely crushing.

It's the morning of day 43. Jeff lies on the floor of his cell staring at the ceiling. There's a foul, chemical taste in his mouth and a burning sensation in his stomach, the result of drinking water disinfected with bleach. It's all his captors ever give him. The door opens and one of the kidnappers enters the cell. Jeff barely even registers his presence. After 43 days of captivity, all the beatings, all the false dawns, it's hard to fight anymore.

But the guard hasn't come to torment him. Instead, he says that a location has finally been agreed. They're doing the ransom exchange later today. Jeff looks up at the guard. Immediately he notices something different about him. The man has removed his face mask. It suggests he no longer needs to hide his identity from him. The kidnapper exits and leaves Jeff alone to his thoughts. Could it be that this time they're actually letting him go?

I started walking my laps and talking to myself, just saying, don't believe it, you know, it's a trick. They're just trying to mess with your brain. And it was working. Just had to remind myself over and over again not to get my hopes up, because, you know, getting crushed again just seemed too much to bear. But then, a couple of hours later... They bring me the phone and it's a guy from my team who says,

no, no, it's real. We do have an accord, we have an agreed location. We are gonna agree to their location. It's still live exchange, but we found a guy who's willing to go in there to the game territory and do the live exchange. This is the chance. The exchange is on. But it has to go perfectly. At three o'clock that afternoon, a guard comes into the cell and hands Jeff his shoes, phone, credit card and passport.

Then he's led outside and into the back of a waiting SUV. Jeff is flanked on the backseat by armed gang members, their rifles stashed between their legs. There's still so much uncertainty. Could this be a set-up? The SUV heads down the very same road that Jeff was snatched from 43 days ago. They'd been told to look out for a courier on a motorbike, wearing a red T-shirt. Jeff peers through the dirt-flecked windscreen.

The street is busy. It's hard to make out individuals among the swarming traffic. But eventually they spot him. The vehicle pulls over, and one of the kidnappers, nicknamed Chef chef bad cop gets out to go and count the money Jeff watches with mounting unease as bad cop turns away from the courier and marches back to the SUV Shaking his head. I watch chef bad cop count the money and

It's not enough. And I'm just crushed because I know that that's not good for me. And so they drive me back up to the compound and I'm whining and complaining in the back. I'm trying to negotiate like two, because the amount that he said it was short was like a hundred dollars US.

It's like, dude, give me a break. This chump changed, like, just let me go. And he's not having it. Tells me to shut up. As the SUV rolls back through the gates of the compound, Jeff can hardly see straight. This just seems impossible, that his freedom could hang on a measly hundred dollars.

The SUV rolls to a stop and the kidnappers get out, leaving their agitated prisoner on the back seat. Clearly this is just a power play by the gang, a last second show of strength. How will Jeff's team respond? They could call the gang's bluff and pull out of a deal entirely, leaving him once again facing captivity. Bowing to their demands could show weakness, but can they really expect Jeff to endure this any longer? Eventually the kidnappers return and Jeff waits to hear his fate. They come back they say hey, we got the phone call, they have the rest of the money.

And I couldn't believe it. That seems so great. My team actually got the money and was okay with them playing games because clearly this is a game. They drive back to the same location. Jeff watches in a daze as Bad Cop once again gets out of the car and approaches the courier on the motorbike who hands over the bag full of cash. And this time he doesn't even count it. Bad Cop waves me out and says I can go. I quickly get on

to the motorcycle and we ride out of there. Jeff grips the seat two-handed and holds on tight as the courier motors them away. His long hair thrashes wildly in the wind as tears start rolling down his face. I remember weeping on this guy's back And I remember trying to hide my face because who I am in that area is very noticeable, right? And everyone around me is looking at me like a fish bowl. So I'm trying to hide my face as I'm openly weeping. They leave Matisson and approach Port-au-Prince city center. The motorcycle stops,

and Jeff is handed over to a truck driver. As the clunky vehicle weaves through the traffic, a fleet of motorbikes suddenly closes in around them. Jeff feels a jolt of panic. Of course, this is triggering for me, because the last time I was surrounded by motorcycles was not good. And I look over at my driver, and I'm about me because the last time I was surrounded by motorcycles was not good. And I look over at my driver and I'm about to attack the driver.

Right. I'm not thinking clearly, but this obviously looks bad. He's like, no, no, no. These are cops that just surrounded us. Calm down. And luckily, those cops escort us through town to the Marriott Hotel. They pull into the Marriott Hotel, the gate closes behind us, and I was free. It's May the 24th, 2023, at the Marriott Hotel in Port-au-Prince. Inside his hotel bathroom, Jeff steps out of the shower and goes over to the mirror.

He wipes away the steam and looks at his reflection for the first time in 43 days. Looking at myself in the mirror for the first time was astonishing. I had grown a very long beard, my hair was all crazy and I was very pale and I had lost about 50 pounds and hadn't seen myself in that kind of, you know, state. I was covered in bug bites and bruises, and just looked terrible. When he first arrived at the hotel, Jeff was met by a team of FBI agents who escorted him into the back of an ambulance.

That was the moment when Jeff was hit by an overwhelming wave of relief. Once I saw that ambulance, and then the FBI and my subconscious kind of decided I was actually safe, I absolutely fell apart and my legs gave way. I could barely stand and, you know, I could barely speak through my tears. After the medics determined that he didn't need to go to hospital, Jeff checked into his hotel room.

An FBI agent arranged for room service to send up some food, a cheeseburger, pizza and ice cream, the remnants of which now lie scattered around the room. After eating and showering, Jeff finally feels ready to call his wife. Through floods of tears, he tells Mary that he's safe and coming home. The next day, Jeff is escorted to the airport and put on a plane back to America. Two and a half hours later, he goes through arrivals and steps through the sliding glass doors into the dazzling Florida sunshine. He scans the cars in the guest pickup lot, and soon he sees the one he's looking for.

As soon as I spotted the car parked there, I started running to her. But it was strange because my legs were still not working right, and so I had this strange kind of gangly floppy walk run which scared the heck out of her but she gets out of the car and I got to hold her for the first time. I just remember it being so healing just didn't expect the power of that embrace you know how long I had imagined that reunion. It was spectacular. It was every bit as wonderful as I hoped.

Today, Jeff remains as committed as ever to his humanitarian mission in Haiti, even though for safety reasons he currently cannot go back there himself. But if anything, he says his time in captivity has made him even more determined to do what he can to help the Haitian people. More than a year on from his ordeal, Jeff can still clearly picture the faces of the civilians he passed as the motorbike drove him out of gang-controlled territory. The faces of those who can't simply negotiate their way to a better life.

Those are the true captives. And as I looked at them, realizing I was going home, but they're still there. And they're still at the mercy of these vicious gangs to this day. And I remember thinking that I was hopefully riding to freedom, but they're not going to be. And there's definitely that survivor's guilt with me to this day.

Bad things happen to people, right? Whether it be the loss of a loved one or loss of a job or a friend. It's hard to take that pain away, but it is possible to make that pain meaningful. And I think in this situation, as well as past situations that I've survived, is I have to make those situations meaningful. The people of Navy, these are good people who want to do good things and want lives of freedom like the ones that we enjoy. I know the terror that faces them every day. So that's what drives me in this work today.

In the next episode, we dive down into the eerie and enigmatic depths of Loch Ness. In the summer of 1977, diver and PhD student Hugh Williams is exploring a famous lake on the lookout for a submerged World War II Wellington bomber. But during his investigation, the 24-year-old suddenly becomes trapped deep underwater.

Something grabs Hugh from below, and whatever it is, it isn't letting go. With time ticking away and his air supply disappearing, Hugh will have to make a series of pivotal choices, knowing that one wrong move could spell the end. That's next time on Real Survival Stories. Listen today without waiting a week by subscribing to Noiza Plus.