The Kidnapping

by Aiden Vaughan

  “Mrs. Hunter stated that you are ‘low profile’ in the community. Would you agree with that assessment?”

  “Oh, yes. My business runs on discretion. That’s why we are mystified that a kidnapper would choose to take our son. We make a comfortable living but we don’t come even close to having the huge amounts of money or high profile that any Silicon Valley CEO has. But if there is a ransom demand, I will do everything in my power to pay it. Nothing is more precious to us than our son. I deal with fabulous art and rare antiques everyday, but nothing I have ever looked at can hold a candle to seeing my son smile at me.”

  “All we can do at this stage is to wait for contact from the kidnappers to see what they want. Unfortunately, based on what I have heard from you and Mrs. Hunter, I am becoming more concerned that this is an abduction for reasons other than ransom.”

  Sadly, Bill sunk his head in his hands. “You are not giving me much to hope for. I can’t handle the thought of Jason in the hands of a pervert.”

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Hunter. Until we are able to find any solid leads, all we can do is wait and hope for the best. I am going to review everything we have learned with the team again today. There has got to be something out there.”

  “Can’t you put out an all points bulletin with Jason’s description and get his picture in the media?” Bill Hunter asked.

  “We would do that if we had some idea of who the kidnappers were or if this was a runaway situation. With your case, I don’t think that anything positive would be accomplished by posting an APB right now. If Jason is being held for ransom, then you could spook the kidnappers and they might figure it is easier to cut their losses, kill Jason, and disappear. If he is being held by a predator, all that will do is make the predator more aware that he is being pursued, speed up his timeline if murder or torture is involved, or cause him to go even further underground.

  “That is my analysis for now, Mr. Hunter. We can bring in an FBI Child Abduction Rapid Deployment team right now if you want. They can take over the investigation probably within twenty-four hours,” Lt. Garcia explained.

  “God, this is agonizing. What did my poor son do to deserve this? What did we do to deserve this?”

  Getting up and opening the door, Bill called out, “Edith! Come here and sit with me. I need your support now.”

  The Hunter’s tortuous wait for news or contact from the kidnappers continued all day long. But the telephone was strangely and ominously silent.

  CHAPTER 7

  A PRISONER’S LIFE, PART I

  (Tuesday Evening)

  It seemed like endless hours of painful waiting before Jason heard what sounded like a door opening and lights being switched on. A pair of hands grabbed him and the rope connecting his hands and feet was cut. Then he was roughly dragged to a chair and made to sit upright. Something was placed on his chest and then his blindfold was taken off. At first the light was blinding. As his eyes automatically squinted shut, trying to adjust to the light, there were a couple of camera flashes. Next, his gag was removed and he was given a couple of squirts from a water bottle.

  Jason’s eyes began adjusting to the light; he could see a darkly-dressed figure wearing a ski mask. Struggling to speak, Jason said in a dry, harsh-sounding voice, “Why am I here? Why have you kidnapped me?”

  The masked figure’s response was to viciously slap Jason across his face. In an ominous-sounding low voice the figure said, “Shut up, kid. Listen carefully and listen good. If you want to survive you will do exactly what you are told and when you are told it. Otherwise, you will be left hogtied and gagged for the entire time you are our guest. Understand what I am saying?”

  Still hurting and shocked from the slap, Jason nodded his head in agreement. The ski-masked figure, who Jason guessed was a man, continued, “Now, I am going to untie these ropes and give you some food. If you need to pee there is a little port-a-potty over in the corner of the room. You are not to speak unless I ask you to. Understood?”

  Again Jason shook his head yes.

  When the man began untying the ropes, Jason’s elation at being freed was offset by prickling pain as the blood circulation gradually began to return to all parts of his body. After the man had finished removing the ropes, he told Jason, “There is a bag of food on the table. I will be back in a little while. Remember what I told you and what will happen if you don’t obey.”

  The man wearing the ski mask then left the room and Jason heard the door being locked.

  Although he wanted to get up right away, Jason couldn’t move yet until he got his circulation restored. His feet were still asleep and Jason began swinging his arms back and forth in order to get them functioning. Then he started lifting his legs with his arms to get the circulation going enough so he could get up and walk. He kicked off his chucks and quarter socks that he had been wearing and hand massaged his bare feet. When there was enough circulation so he could stand up, he stumbled over to the port-a-potty, which was actually a small training toilet for little kids. By now he didn’t care. After so many hours (or was it days?) of being tied up and unable to deal with his bodily functions, Jason could finally relieve himself.

  Next Jason dealt with his hunger pangs. Turning around he saw that beside the chair was a little folding table upon which sat a bag from a fast food place and beside it the water bottle from which he had received a couple of squirts earlier. Inside the bag was a cold burger and a small bag of fries but to the ravenous Jason, it was a gourmet meal.

  After eating the food, and drinking most of the water, Jason began to feel almost like a normal human again. His hunger satisfied, Jason then surveyed his holding cell. It appeared to be a basement-type of room. It was large, at least twenty feet by thirty feet, with a couple of square columns in the middle that were probably for support. There were no windows except for a small square one at the top of one wall, made of opaque glass. The room had a couple of hanging light bulbs, which initially had seemed blinding but now gave off only a dim light. Over in one corner was a dirty mattress on the floor; the place where he had initially been put when brought there.

  As Jason was contemplating his situation, the masked man unlocked the door and came into the room again. He was carrying a plastic laundry basket with some items in it. “Now that you have had some food and drink, it’s time to clean you up.” The man took out a small liquid soap dispenser, some more bottles of water, a sponge and a small towel. “This is for you to take sponge baths with. I see that your clothes are dirty and you peed in your pants. Take off your clothes and put them in the basket.”

  Red-faced with embarrassment, Jason realized the man was right; he hadn’t been able to hold everything back. “Don’t worry, kid, nobody’s going to hurt you unless you don’t cooperate. Here is a pair of shorts you can wear while your clothes are being cleaned.” The man tossed a pair of dark blue elastic gym shorts at Jason. “Now strip off your clothes and put those clean shorts on. I won’t even look,” the man said with a sarcastic laugh.

  As Jason changed clothes, he checked the pockets of his cargo shorts to see if any of his possessions were still there but found nothing—no wallet, cell phone, Swiss army knife, keys, or change. So far, his captors were always one step ahead of him to make sure that his only choice was to comply with their demands. The only good news was that it seemed their motive behind his kidnapping was for ransom. Those flashes earlier were probably some pictures for a ransom note and so far the man hadn’t made any attempt to molest him.

  “Now put all of your dirty clothes in the basket and bring it here,” the man ordered.

  Jason took the basket over to the man. When he set it down, the man grabbed his right leg and before Jason could react, had attached a metal cuff to it and locked it shut. He could then see that it was attached to a chain that was fastened around one of the center columns in the room.

  The man explained, “This gives you the freedom to walk around the room. Just don’t do anything foolish like trying to escape if you
know what is good for you. One other thing, I want you to take this bandana and tie it around your head like a headband. From time to time you will be asked to blindfold yourself. You will immediately move the bandana down over your eyes when asked. Understand?”

  Jason mutely nodded yes, as the man handed him a folded red bandana. After he had tied it around his head, the man continued, “I am going to leave you now for the night. I want you to clean yourself up and get some sleep. Remember the rules about no talking or making any noise if you want to maintain your freedom to move around the room.”

  After the man left, Jason used some of the water and the sponge and soap to clean himself. There were indentations on his arms and legs made by the ropes, which he carefully cleaned and massaged. He patted himself dry with the towel. Although still trapped in a nightmare situation, the fact he had been given soap and water was a good sign. Also good was the fact the man had taken care to hide his face from him. If he was going to be killed, why would the man bother? Still, Jason felt very alone and helpless. Everything from his former “normal” life had now been taken away from him, including all his personal possessions and his freedom.

  All but one thing.

  Jason remembered that he still had his red high-top chucks. Quickly he went and grabbed them before lying down on the mattress. It wasn’t much, but at least he still had one possession that was part of his normal life—one thing, on to which he could physically hold.

  Even though he hadn’t been active, due to the fact he had been tied up for a long time, Jason suddenly realized that he was very tired again. Soon, he dozed off into a restless sleep, still clutching onto the canvas uppers of his chucks.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE WAITING GAME, PART II

  (Wednesday)

  Things were becoming strained at the Hunter house. Tuesday evening was just like the day—no contact of any sort. The only break from the unbearable silence and waiting was when the police shift changed. Occasionally a friend or acquaintance would check in to see if there was any progress, but when Bill or Edith would answer “no,” the conversations would end quickly. It’s hard to be sociable and talk about regular things when your son is missing and that thought dominates every moment of the day.

  Bill talked to Ellie Planting, his store manager and assistant buyer, Wednesday morning. When Ellie learned that Jason was missing, she quickly assured Bill not to worry about the store or business. She would take care of everything. “I will tell any customers that you are still out of town on your business trip.”

  He told her, “If anything seriously important comes up, call me on my cell phone. We want to keep the home telephone line always clear.”

  Edith, who had called in sick on Tuesday, talked to her boss, Michael Shumley, at ADM Software, and he immediately granted her personal leave request when he heard the reason for her absence. “Take all the time you need. Let us know if you need any resources from the company.” Michael, who had met Jason several times at company picnics, continued, “I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt Jason. He’s such a neat kid.” Unfortunately, his reassurance had the opposite effect on Edith and it took her a few minutes to compose herself.

  * * *

  Wednesday continued on like Tuesday, with no news and no contact from the outside world or from any kidnappers. Around 11:00 a.m. Lt. Garcia dropped by their house with a new report. He had had his team continue canvassing neighborhoods around the park, but with no results at all. “My team has interviewed all the park employees that worked onsite Monday, but nobody has seen or heard anything. They specifically looked at anyone who had responsibilities on the east side of the park, but the supervisor said that employee assignments weren’t by park area, but rather by need. Also, some of the garden maintenance work is now farmed out to private contractors, a program the city put into place last year in order to save money. When I personally talked to the garden maintenance contractor, he told me that no one from his company was scheduled to be at the park on Monday. They only were scheduled to work there on Thursdays.

  “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, please do not give up hope. Sometimes kidnappers will wait to contact their victim’s family until later, so the disappearance will have the maximum impact on them.”

  * * *

  Edith and Bill’s appearances became more haggard looking as they aimlessly wandered around the house. Neither of them had any appetite and could only doze off intermittently before something would reawaken them to the harsh reality of Jason’s disappearance. They waited for the daily mail, which normally came in the mid-afternoon, in case there was a letter about Jason.

  Still nothing.

  Around 3:30 Wednesday afternoon, there was a knock on their front door. When Edith answered it, Daniel was standing there. “I know I shouldn’t bother you, but I had to come and find out if you have heard anything new.”

  “It’s okay, Daniel,” she replied as she opened the door and gave him a big hug. “You are his best friend so I know this waiting must be as agonizing for you as it is for us.”

  “I know I’m just a teenager, but if there is anything I can do, even if it is only something routine like mowing the lawn or going to the store, please ask. This sitting around doing nothing is killing me!” he explained.

  “We really appreciate your thoughtfulness, Daniel. You have been such a good friend to Jason. Hopefully his memory of those good times is an incentive for him to get through the ordeal he is now facing.”

  CHAPTER 9

  A PRISONER’S LIFE, PART II

  (Wednesday)

  Jason was awake and standing up the next time the man came to the door. He could only lie on the mattress for so long before he had to move or get up. Now that he had some freedom to move about, but nothing to do and no place to go, he decided he would spend a lot of time keeping his body fit. He only had two pieces of clothing to wear—the blue shorts and his chucks, but he was glad he had at least some clothing on when he did sit-ups, push-ups, and stretching exercises on the bare cement floor. Also, he wanted to have shoes on if he ever got a chance to escape from the room.

  “Hey, kid, put on your blindfold and then you’ll get some breakfast” the man called after opening the door a crack. Obediently, Jason pulled down the bandana and waited. He could hear the man bringing in something, probably a tray, and put it down on the table. “There’s some cereal and I also brought you some comic books and a CD player. When you hear the door shut, you can take off your blindfold.”

  Because the man said “breakfast,” Jason guessed it was probably Wednesday morning.

  Breakfast turned out to be a bowl of cereal with milk and a small bottle of orange drink. Jason wasn’t as hungry as the day before, but he still needed food in his body and with not much else to do, his meal was quickly consumed.

  Finished eating, Jason began looking over the comic books. He found they were old, well-thumbed-through Superman and Batman comics. Luckily he hadn’t read them before and now he had something fun to do. Next, he checked out the CD player. It was an old Walkman that had a best of Eagles disk in it and there were also Pink Floyd and Jethro Tull disks as well. 1970s rock wasn’t exactly Jason’s musical taste, but he figured he could learn. Reading old comics and listening to classic rock is a lot better than sitting around doing nothing, he told himself. Jason started planning his day: First some exercises, then a track from the CD player and finally a story from one of the comic books.

  Five minutes later he heard the door open again, and a voice called out, “Blindfold on.”

  After Jason complied, the man came in and began fumbling with the tray.

  Impulsively Jason said, “May I ask you a question?”

  Taken off guard, the man said, “Sure.”

  “Will I be able to get my clothes back soon?”

  The man gave a sardonic laugh and said, “By all means, kid. I’ll check right away with the hotel laundry service.” The man then fumbled around with something in a bag and continued speaking. �
��I don’t have your clothes now, but I do have something for you.” With that the man came over to Jason and forced a rubber ball gag into his mouth. The gag had some sort of a lock on the back, and he clicked it shut. “Sorry, kid, but you talk too much. There is a hole in the ball if you need a drink of water.” With that the man left the room, and locked the door shut.

  Jason cursed his bad luck. This was a big step backwards. Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut? he asked himself. But the more he thought about it, the man had probably planned to gag him anyway, as he had had no idea Jason would ask him a question when he came in the room.

  Naturally, Jason tried to adjust the ball but couldn’t get it to budge. Resigned to his fate, Jason went back to his planned regimen of listening, reading, and working out, but had to include numerous pauses and breaks. Wearing the gag was exhausting and tended to slow him down when doing his exercises. When he tried to sip some water through the hole in the ball, much of it drooled over his face and while doing exercises, his saliva drooled out from the edge of the ball.

  * * *

  About five or six hours later, the man returned and removed the gag. Jason’s jaw felt sore from being stretched in an open position for so long. He kept opening his mouth, yawning, and rolling his jaw around. Drinking water helped, but captivity was beginning to take its toll.

  Being kidnapped really sucks, I hate this, he thought as he dozed off on the mattress.