James Grippando - The Abduction

Allison tugged at the briefcase. The cable lock was secure, leaving no way to free it. She tried opening it to take the money, but the cable was wrapped too tightly around it. That was no accident, she realized, since the kidnapper had selected the briefcase and supplied the cable. The pungent smoke thickened and choked her lungs. Her eyes were burning. She’d just have to leave it. She grabbed a cloth napkin from the table to cover her nose and mouth. Her leather bag was empty save for the gun. She tucked the pistol inside her jacket and left the bag.

Harley’s voice was in her ear. “Allison, what’s going on!”

“Fire!” she said. “They’ve started a fire.”

“Get out.”

“Not without the girls.”

“Allison, just get out !”

Allison ignored him. She leaned over the railing to check the lobby. The emergency lighting was spotty and getting worse with the smoke. An emergency sprinkler was soaking a corner of the lobby near the entrance, but most weren’t activated. The second floor was completely dry.

“They must have vandalized the sprinklers,” she told Harley. “Only a few are working.”

Below, excited mobs were fighting to squeeze through the revolving doors, slipping in the darkness on the wet marble floors. Others tumbled down the stairs in the race to safety. Two men jumped over the mezzanine railing to avoid the traffic jam. In the midst of the confusion, Allison saw one person moving up the staircase, fighting against the flow. It was a young girl. Even in the dim lighting, she knew that face.

“Kristen!” she shouted.

The girl looked up, kept coming.

“Kristen, come this way!”

The noise from the crowd and the pulsing alarm was deafening. She feared Kristen couldn’t hear her. She could barely even hear Harley’s voice, which was right in her ear.

“Do you see Kristen?” he asked-or she thought that was what he’d said.

“Yes. The staircase. They’ve released her!”

Allison ran for the staircase, but the crowd wouldn’t let her pass. Flames shot from the hallway behind her. Staff carried out guests who had been overcome by smoke. Allison kept her eye on Kristen. Strangely, the girl seemed to be heading up the stairs on her own initiative, not in response to Allison’s calls. It didn’t make sense, thought Allison-unless the kidnapper had promised Kristen that her mother would be waiting for her upstairs, a cruel ploy to send the child to a fiery death right before Allison’s eyes. Allison pushed toward the lobby, forcing her way down the crowded staircase one slow step at a time.

She could see the top of the girl’s head, just a few steps below. “Kristen!” she shouted, but the words barely made it from her mouth. The smoke gagged her. She surged forward, forcing her way past the man blocking her way. Just a few steps and a few dozen bodies separated them. She reached as far as her arm would stretch but couldn’t quite get there. She made one final push, one last stretch, closing the gap-and she had her! She had her by the arm!

Their eyes met for an instant, then Kristen screamed and wiggled free-lost as quickly as she was found.

“Kristen!” she shouted. “It’s okay, come back!”

Kristen had turned in the opposite direction. She was moving with the flow down the stairs, away from Allison, frightened and confused-she’d obviously expected her mother or someone she knew.

Allison gave chase. “The disguise,” said Allison, not sure if Harley could even hear her anymore. “The whole world knows what I look like, but Kristen doesn’t recognize the disguise.”

Harley said something in reply, but it was just a painful screech in her ear. “Harley, I’m disconnecting. Too much static.” She pulled it from her ear and continued down the stairs. The smell of smoke filled the lobby. Allison could hear sirens blaring outside the hotel. Hysterical guests fled from the halls, restaurants, and bars-from every direction.

Frenzy, she thought. Total frenzy.

The crowd thinned at the base of the staircase. Kristen ran for the revolving door. Allison sprinted and caught her, wrapping her arms around her. Kristen fought out of fear, but Allison held on, taking the blows.

“It’s all right. Your mother sent me. I’m Allison Leahy.”

Kristen froze. She examined the face, looking past the disguise. A glimmer of recognition came to her eyes, then her face scrunched with disapproval.

“What in the world did you do to your hair?”

Allison smiled cathartically and hugged her with all her strength. Then she whisked her away. “Come on.”

They slowed only for a moment at the bottleneck at the entrance. Together they spilled onto the sidewalk outside with the rest of the crowd, stepping over fire hoses that crisscrossed the wet sidewalks. Cool, fresh air cleared their lungs, causing them to cough. Fire trucks and firefighters were all over the street. Police officers and paramedics helped staggering guests into ambulances and emergency vehicles. Allison recognized an FBI agent at the curb between a police car and fire truck. She took Kristen to him.

“I’m Allison Leahy,” she shouted above the noise. “This is Kristen Howe. Get her in one of these ambulances!”

The agent took her hand, but Allison stopped her. She got down on a knee and looked Kristen right in the eye.

“Kristen, do you know where Emily is?”

“Who?”

“The other little girl. The kidnapper said you would know how to find her.”

“I don’t know anything about another girl.”

Her heart sank. She turned to the other agent. “Take her. I have to find Emily.”

The agent hesitated.

“Take her!” she shouted. She touched Kristen gently on the cheek. “It’s okay. Go with him.”

The agent lifted her off the ground and carried her to the ambulance. Allison put the receiver back in her ear and spoke into her microphone. “Harley, are you there?”

The response was pure static. She glanced at the squadron of emergency vehicles around her. Probably a thousand other radios were operating. Then she heard something, a broken response.

“Allison, one of our agents has Kristen.”

“You don’t say.”

Injured guests staggered by her. The swirl of emergency lights gave everything an orange and yellow cast. A hook and ladder moved noisily into position overhead. Firefighters were carrying stranded guests down from the higher floors.

Allison shouted into her microphone. “Harley, I spoke to Kristen already. She doesn’t know anything about Emily.”

Allison pressed the earpiece, straining to hear. After a brief pause, she heard his response. “I’m sorry, but don’t lose hope. We have agents working on those pictures the kidnapper sent. Maybe something will turn up.”

“Turn up?” she shouted. “In eight years nothing has turned up!”

Static crackled over the line. She couldn’t hear his voice. Her eyes welled as she stared back into the burning building. Kristen was safe, but that was only half the deal. A million dollars for Kristen and Emily. That was the deal.

And now the money was burning in a stupid building.

Or was it? she wondered.

She scanned the mayhem around her, and her sadness turned to anger. It was all a big diversion-that’s all it was. In any kidnapping, the exchange of the child for the money was always where the plan came unraveled-it was where kidnappers were so often captured. This was the perfect way to handle the exchange-mass hysteria. While everyone was rushing from the building, Emily’s kidnapper was happily making off with the money in a briefcase he had specifically requested and that was undoubtedly fireproof.