Stephen Leather - The birthday girl

'He was there to demonstrate our mine clearance system. We were putting together a deal.'

morning.'

'I know, I know. He flew to Split and then drove to Sarajevo.

It's a long story, but the upshot is that he's been taken hostage by Bosnian terrorists.'

'What do they want?' Her voice was wavering and she fought to keep it steady.

'I don't know. All I've had is a phone call. They said we weren't to speak to the police and that we'd be contacted with their demands. If we call in the authorities, they'll kill him.'

Katherine's hands shook so much that her drink spilled.

Anderson took the glass from her hands. She grabbed at his arm. 'What do we do, Maury? Tell me, what do we do?'

Anderson looked at her levelly. 'That's up to you, Katherine,' he said. Buffy whined and put her head on Katherine's knee.

'The FBI can't help us?' Katherine asked.

'It's out of their jurisdiction,' Anderson said. 'We'd have to go to the State Department.'

'So let's do that.'

'Katherine, Tony shouldn't even be in Serbia, never mind doing business there. There's a UN embargo.'

'So? Tony's still an American citizen. The State Department has to get him back.'

'Actually, the fact that he's Scottish makes it more complicated.'

'Damn it, Maury. He's my husband. He's got a Green Card.

The State Department has to take care of him.'

'There's a war being fought over there. It's a shambles. No one's sure who's fighting who. We're not even sure who the bad guys are.'

'Goddamn it, Maury, what was Tony doing there? What the hell was he doing there?' Her voice broke and she began to sob uncontrollably. She stubbed out the cigarette. Anderson took her in his arms and held her, tight.

'He was trying to help the firm,' Anderson said. 'We're desperate for contracts, you know that.'

Katherine dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. 'I can't believe he didn't mention that he was going to Sarajevo.'

'We didn't know until he was in Rome. The Serbs insisted on seeing him on their territory.'

'Maury, this doesn't make any sense. I thought there was an exclusion zone or something around Sarajevo.'

'Yeah, there is. He had to fly to a place called Split and then drive overland. The Serbs insisted, Katherine. We had to do it.'

'We?' Katherine said. 'We? What do you mean? I don't see you out there.'

Anderson ignored her angry outburst. 'We needed the contract,' he said. 'He probably didn't want to worry you. But as you know we're having cash-flow problems and we have to take orders from wherever we can.'

Katherine pushed him away. 'But you said there was a UN embargo? Doesn't that mean we can't sell to the Serbs?'

Anderson shrugged. 'There are ways around all blockades,' he said. 'There are middle-men in Europe who'll handle it.

Everybody's doing it. Not so long ago the Russians sold 360 million dollars' worth of weapons to them.'

'Yes, but we're not Russians,' Katherine said. 'We're an American company.'

Anderson sighed. 'Look, the Russians were selling T-55 tanks and anti-aircraft missiles, serious weaponry. We're just talking about a few mine clearance systems. That's all.'

'But you're saying that the authorities won't help us because Tony shouldn't have been there in the first place?'

'That's right,' Anderson said. 'But you're missing the point.

We can't get help from anyone. If we do and the terrorists find out, they'll kill him.'

Katherine closed her eyes, fighting the urge to slap Anderson across the face. 'Damn you, Maury,' she hissed. 'What have you done?'

There were six guards taking it in turns to watch over Freeman, and over his weeks in captivity he'd made some sort of contact THE BIRTHDAY GIRL 7 y/ with them all. Freeman knew that the psychiatrists referred to it as the Stockholm Effect, when a hostage begins to form a relationship with his captors, but he also knew that there was a more fundamental reason for his need to communicate with his guards – sheer boredom. They allowed him no books or newspapers, no television or radio, and for long periods he was left alone, chained to a disused boiler in the freezing-cold basement.

Four of the men appeared to speak no English at all and communication with them was restricted to nods and gestures, but even their surly grunts were better than the hours of mind-numbing isolation. The fifth man's name was Stjepan, and he appeared to be the leader of the group. He was in his early twenties, thin and wiry with deep-set eyes that seemed to stare at Freeman from dark pits either side of a hooked nose. He spoke reasonable English but slowly and with such a thick accent that often he had to repeat himself to make himself understood.

Stjepan told Freeman why he was being held hostage, and what would happen to him if the group's demands were not met. On the second day of his captivity, Stjepan had Freeman's aluminium suitcase brought down into the basement and demanded that he show him how to work the equipment it contained. Freeman had complied, though Stjepan's limited English meant it took several hours. The equipment was then carefully repacked into its case and taken back upstairs. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, Stjepan had punched Freeman in the face, hard enough to split his lip.

A Sony video camera was brought down into the cellar and Freeman was handed a badly typed script to read. As he struggled with the poor grammar and inept vocabulary of the statement, he realised that the punch had probably been planned in advance to give more authenticity to the video, but the thought didn't make it hurt any the less. Freeman asked if he could record a personal message to his wife and Stjepan had agreed. When he'd finished Freeman was given a plate of watery stew and left alone.

While they waited for a response to the video, Stjepan was an occasional visitor to the basement, and Freeman felt it was because the young man wanted to practise his English. There was no further violence, which reinforced Freeman's belief that the punch in the face had been for effect rather than to punish him, but Stjepan always kept his assault rifle close by and left Freeman in no doubt that he was prepared to use it.

During his hours alone in the basement, Freeman spent a lot of time thinking about his wife and son, and it seemed that the more he replayed the memories the stronger they became. He began to recall events and conversations that he had thought were long forgotten, and as he sat on the cold concrete floor he wept for the life that had been taken from him. He missed his wife and he missed his son.

He lost track of time after just a few days. The basement was without windows and illuminated by a single bulb which hung from the ceiling by a frayed wire. Sometimes it was on but usually he was in darkness. Electricity was as scarce as medical supplies in the war-torn city. His meals came at irregular intervals, so he had no way of knowing what time, or day, it was.

The wait for news of the Bosnians' demands seemed interminable.

Stjepan said that the tape was being sent over to the United States because they wanted to deal directly with Freeman's company. Freeman knew that made sense: the US government prohibited the sort of deal he'd been planning to sign with the Serbian forces and he doubted that they would want to negotiate with Bosnian guerrillas. Once Maury Anderson heard that he was in trouble, Freeman knew he'd move heaven and earth to get him out. If anyone was to blame for Freeman's predicament it was Anderson and his insistence that Freeman fly to the former Yugoslavia to find new markets for the minefield clearing system they'd developed. NATO forces had turned him down flat, saying that they were developing their own system, and the only real European interest had come from the Serbian forces. A representative of the Serb military had made contact with Freeman in Rome and asked him to fly to Split for a demonstration. Freeman had wanted to refuse and had called Anderson in Baltimore to tell him as much. That was when his partner had broken the news of yet another US Army contract that had fallen through. The workforce of almost two hundred men was depending on Freeman, and if he didn't come up with a European contract soon almost half of them would have to be laid off. CRW Electronics was a family firm, founded by Freeman's father-in-law, and Freeman knew every one of the employees by name. Anderson had put him in an impossible position. He had no choice but to go.