The Abduction

43

The telephone rang at precisely eight o’clock Monday morning. Allison was dressed and standing beside the phone, waiting and hoping for—if not expecting—the call. The shrill ring still startled her. She snatched up the receiver.

“This is Allison.”
A shaky, high-pitched voice came on the line. “This is Kristen Howe.”
Allison immediately hit the button on the phone that triggered the FBI intercept. “Kristen, where are you?”
A pause, followed by that disguised, mechanical voice—Kristen was gone. “Between a rock and a hard place. Same as you. Do you have the money?”
She checked the clock on the wall. Fourteen seconds. It sounded like another cellular phone, which meant that she needed to stall if the FBI was going to trace it. “Yes, I have it. But I want to talk to Kristen.”
“Go to the old Pension Building at ten A.M. Enter on Fifth Street. Go through the atrium, and exit on F Street.”
Allison bristled at the tone. The voice was disguised, like before, but it didn’t sound like Friday’s caller or the caller on Saturday. It sounded altogether different. “Put Kristen back on the line,” she said. “Just so I know for sure she’s alive.”
“Wait on the sidewalk outside the building on F Street. And bring the money.”
She grimaced. Whoever he was, the caller was no fool—no wasted words. “You want me to deliver the money?”
“Yes, you. Personally. Alone. No FBI.”
“I don’t think I can get out undetected.”
“Sure you can. A suspended attorney general doesn’t need an FBI escort.”
Smart-ass, she thought. “It’s not the FBI I’m worried about. The press is camped outside my door.”
“And Kristen Howe has a gun to her head. You think you got problems? Beat the media. Be there. Ten A.M. You’re late, she’s dead.”
She started to say something—anything—to keep him talking, but the line clicked. She checked the clock. Less than forty seconds. “Damn,” she muttered, knowing it probably wasn’t enough time for a trace on a wireless. She disconnected with her finger and speed-dialed Harley Abrams.
He answered immediately, having heard the entire conversation through the intercept.
“You heard?” asked Allison.
“Yeah,” he said. “You really got the money?”
“Not on me. Peter called his banker at home this morning. It’s at the bank.”
“Can you trust the bank to keep it confidential? A cash withdrawal as big as this isn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.”
“It’s structured to be not so obvious. Peter has been wire-transferring it in small installments over the past couple of days from several banks—some offshore—to nine different accounts held in the names of nine different companies he controls. Nobody but Peter’s banker will really know the money is going to us personally. I told Peter this has to be confidential.”
“You trust his banker?”
“Peter says he does.”
Harley paused. “You don’t have to pay it, you know.”
“We’ve already made our decision.”
“There’s a wrinkle,” said Harley.
“What kind of wrinkle?”
“I got a call from Lincoln Howe about twenty minutes ago.”
“And?” she asked urgently.
“Seems he’s had a change of heart. He told me that if the kidnappers make a ransom demand, he and his wife have decided to pay it.”
Allison froze. “Did he say why?”
“Just that some wealthy friends offered him the money, and he changed his mind. He’s not making it public. Nothing more than that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Allison, I’m being as straight as I possibly can. Howe told me not to tell you, and Director O’Doud gave me a direct order to abide by his wishes. If the kidnappers hadn’t renewed their demand, there wouldn’t have been any need for you to know. I’m telling you now because it affects you directly. You and Peter don’t have to pay.”
“But I still have to deliver. That’s what the kidnappers are expecting. If we change the plan, they’ll kill Kristen.”
Harley groaned. “That’s pretty sticky. If Howe is supplying the money, I’m not sure he’ll want you delivering it.”
“Then Peter and I will supply the money.”
“That doesn’t solve everything. It’s bad enough that you’re the point person on the phone calls. Making you the deliveryperson only compounds the problem.”
“What problem?”
“It’s like a case one of my mentors had back in the seventies, when Jimmy Carter offered to negotiate with a hostage taker who demanded to talk to the president. It’s just not smart to put someone with ultimate power in direct communication with a hostage taker. You can’t stall. You can’t say you have to check with your superiors before giving into their demands.”
“What power do I have, Harley? I’m suspended.”
“The kidnappers won’t care.”
“Look, we’re not going to make a unilateral change to the kidnappers’ plan and get Kristen Howe killed. Got it?”
“Hey, come on now. I’m on your side.”
She took a deep breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be harsh. But Howe’s sudden reversal on the ransom doesn’t sit well with me. Not twenty minutes before a call from the kidnappers.”
“Not much we can do before ten o’clock.”
“No,” she agreed. “But it might be worth five minutes to talk to Tanya Howe.”


Allison conferenced in Tanya Howe, who took the call in the privacy of her bedroom. It took only moments for Allison to give her the gist of the kidnapper’s demands.
“Did Kristen sound okay?” were Tanya’s first words.
Allison paused. She wanted to be straight but not a pessimist. “She sounded scared, but okay. To be honest, there’s no way for me to know if Kristen was actually on the line or if it was a recording. I asked to talk to her so I could hear her respond to a question, but he wouldn’t put her on.”
“So you don’t know if she’s alive?” said Tanya.
“We have to assume.”
“I don’t want to assume. I need to know my baby’s all right.”
Harley interceded. “We’ll know soon, Tanya.”
“When?”
Allison said, “They want me to deliver the ransom at ten o’clock.”
“And,” said Harley, “there’s something else you should know. Your father called earlier this morning. He’s agreed to pay a ransom.”
Tanya paused, seeming to catch her breath. “Don’t deliver it.”
“Come again?” said Allison.
“You’re being set up.”
“Set up?” asked Harley. “How?”
Tanya quickly explained her confrontation with her father last night—her demand to publicly accuse him of being involved in the kidnapping if Kristen was not returned safely before Tuesday morning.
“Don’t you see?” she continued. “This morning’s ransom demand and my father’s sudden agreement to pay it were both triggered by my threat last night. The kidnappers are offering to return Kristen before the election only because my father controls them. At the same time, he’s agreed to pay the ransom so that it looks like he had nothing to do with her kidnapping or her return. In my mind, this just slam-dunk confirms his involvement.”
Harley said, “I understand what you’re saying, Tanya. But it doesn’t necessarily follow that all of this was triggered by last night’s conversation. Remember, the caller on Friday said he would call Allison at eight o’clock Monday morning. So, at most, the only thing that was triggered by your argument with your father last night was his decision to pay a ransom—which, by itself, isn’t all that incriminating. I mean, if someone threatened to ruin my career and reputation unless Kristen were returned safely before Tuesday morning, I’d probably offer to pay a ransom for her safe return, too.”
“Harley has a point,” said Allison. “If your father were really behind this, I have to think that the last person he’d want to deliver the ransom would be me. If Kristen is returned safely, I could be hailed as a hero on the eve of the election. I could be right back in the race.”
Tanya scoffed. “Don’t you people get it? Kristen is not going to be returned safely. This is all a setup. You have to think the way my father thinks. Of course he wouldn’t create a situation where you might be a hero. He’s putting you in a position where things are going to go wrong—very wrong—and you alone are going to be responsible.”
Allison gripped the phone a little tighter, thinking. “All right, Tanya. Say it is a setup. But consider the possibility that it’s a setup going the other way. Not a setup to kill Kristen after I deliver the ransom, but a setup to kill her if I don’t. General Howe or his crazed supporters are betting I’ll do the cowardly thing and refuse to deliver the ransom. When I refuse, they kill your daughter. If that happens, your father knows I couldn’t be elected dog catcher, let alone president.”
All three fell silent. Finally, Harley said, “Either theory is equally plausible.”
“You’re a big help, Mr. Abrams.”
“Tanya,” said Allison, “please listen to me. I kicked myself eight years ago for listening to others instead of myself. But I didn’t have anyone who’d been through the same thing I’d been through. I’ve been through it. I’m still going through it. I wouldn’t tell you what to do if I didn’t feel in my heart it was the right thing to do. Trust my instincts on this.”
Tanya said nothing.
Harley asked, “Tanya, what do you want to do?”
Her voice shook, but her decision seemed firm. “Whatever Allison decides. That’s what I’ll do.”
“Thank you,” said Allison. “If I only get one vote this week, that’s the one I wanted.”
“Call me,” said Tanya. “Just keep me informed.”
“I will,” said Allison.
Tanya hung up. Harley stayed on the line. “You’re putting yourself in real danger, Allison. We should use a double.”
“In two hours you think you’re going to round up a female FBI agent who looks enough like me to fool the kidnappers? Come on, Harley, get real.”
“I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
She was about to snap, tell him she could handle herself, but she stopped. He wasn’t condescending. Just concerned. “Look, Harley, if this kidnapping really is politically motivated, then delivering the ransom isn’t likely to put me at any greater risk than a candidate for the presidency faces every day. If someone had wanted to put General Howe in the White House by killing me outright, they could have done that a long time ago.”
“Shit happens, Allison. You could get killed even if they don’t intend to kill you. And you can’t rule out the possibility that more is at work here than some lunatic’s obsession with winning. Maybe they’re simply determined not to let Lincoln Howe be the first man, black or white, to lose the presidency to a woman. To achieve that goal, they might well kill off the opposition. And they might do it by luring her into a botched ransom delivery.”
Allison thought for a moment. “Enough about elections. Have you ruled out the possibility that Kristen’s kidnapping is related to Emily’s abduction?”
He sighed, knowing where this was headed. “No.”
“Of course you haven’t. You’re thinking the same thing I’m thinking. Why else would the kidnapper want me to deliver the ransom? There’s only one logical answer. It’s because this isn’t about Kristen. It isn’t about Lincoln Howe. Maybe it isn’t even really about politics. It’s about me. And if it’s about me, then there’s a good chance that it’s about Emily.”
“So you’re delivering the ransom.” It was less a question, more reluctant resignation.
“What do you think?”
“I think I’ll need clearance from headquarters. Probably the director himself.”
“Then get it,” she said.