Prologue: Elise
I felt amazing. I had just closed another deal for my father’s business. At the age of 27, I was considered one of the foremost women in the business. When I took over Dad’s business, it wouldn’t be because I was his daughter, but it would because I worked hard and deserved it.
Today had been a long, hard day, and all I could think about was a long, hot bath, a glass of wine, and planning a deserved day off tomorrow that I would spend touring all the awesome sites of London.
All I could see in my head was the flickering candles that surrounded the bathtub. I could already feel the heat from the water as it enveloped me. The glass of sweet wine called my name. Visions in my mind replaced the reality that was around me—the chill of the evening, the throng of people as they hurried on their way, and the darkness falling.
I was so caught up in my daydreams that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late. A man grabbed me from behind and pulled my arms back. I felt a knife pressed into my side. Another man approached me from the front.
A nasal voice hissed in my ear. “Do not yell. Do not fight. Come with us quietly, and you won’t be hurt.”
I didn’t believe him.
Instincts kicked in as I braced myself against the man behind me who held my arms and used both feet to kick the man approaching me. The knife cut my side a bit, but I didn’t register the burning sensation. My focus was solely on getting away. I slammed my head back against the face of the man behind me, then kicked back at his knees.
I heard him cursing loudly as I wrenched my arms free from his grasp.
Unbelievably, no one paid attention to the attack. I cried out for help, but most people simply went on their way as though my attackers and I were acting out a macabre play. A few looked at the scene, but no one intervened.
My heart racing a million miles an hour and my breath coming in rapid, harsh pants, I ran. I had almost made it to the entrance of my hotel when I heard the footsteps behind me, running.
Frantically, I grabbed at the handles of the hotel, but before I could pull them open, a rag with a sweet-smelling substance covered my face. Almost instantly, the world went black.
I definitely did not wake up in the ritzy hotel I had been staying in. Instead of posh carpet and walls covered in beautiful artwork, I was presented with a dirt floor and a shed that had slats in the wall large enough for the flies to come in and buzz around my face.
Annoyed, I tried to swat at them and realized I was tied to a chair. This definitely wasn’t the hot bath I had been looking forward to.
It didn’t take me long to figure out the reason why I was stuck here. Some men in black robes and masks burst into the doorway. All I could see were their eyes. In halting English, one of them informed me that I was going to make a video for them. They wanted money from my father.
Their dark piercing eyes bored holes into my body as they tried to convince me of the serious situation I was in. Either Dad sent them money, or they would kill me. However, based on recent events in the media, I knew that even if Dad sent them the money, these men would kill me.
Strangely, the thought did not send me into a panic. I felt calm with the knowledge that I likely would not survive this experience. It wasn’t that I wanted to die, or that I was ready to die. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if I panicked, I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
If I kept my wits about me, I might find a way out. I wouldn’t go down without a fight, that was for sure.
They simply stared at me for a moment, perhaps waiting for some type of hysterical reaction. They sure weren’t going to get that from me. I simply stared back, defiantly. I refused to be cowed.
Finally, they gave up on getting a reaction from me and pointed a digital camera at my face. The man who spoke broken English told me I needed to make a video explaining that I have been taken hostage and that if my father wants to ever see me alive again, he needs to pay a million dollars.
I sighed heavily, as though I were sorely inconvenienced. They started the camera and motioned for me to begin.
“Hello, Daddy. These kind men have invited me to be their unwilling guest in this lovely abode. They say that if you don’t give them a million dollars, then they will kill me. However, I’m pretty sure that they will kill me anyway, so I suggest that you save your money.”
At that point, they snapped the recorder off and left. I didn’t know how much of that video they would actually send, but at least Dad would know that I was alive and still myself. If I acted afraid or humbled, he would be more worried.
Soon, a couple of the men returned and untied me from the chair. I was grateful because my arms had fallen asleep. They hustled me, not so gently, over to the wall in the shed that was furthest away from the door and put a shackle around my ankle. There were some nasty blankets on the floor covering some straw that looked as though it hosted several families of rats and, perhaps, fleas.
However, I wasn’t about to let them see me disheartened or afraid. My pride would never allow that. So, I parked myself on the blankets as gracefully as I possibly could.
About an hour after that, they brought me several bottles of water, put a bucket in the corner with some napkins, and pushed a plate of suspicious-looking food across the floor to me. I closed my eyes, pretended it was a delicious steak, and ate it, knowing that if I was going to find a way out, I would have to keep up my strength.
I woke up the next morning from the heat radiating in through the shed. The frigid night had turned into quite the warm morning. It made me wonder if I was being kept in a desert area. Some mountainous areas would have that effect as well.
The food they brought me tasted decent despite its less than appetizing appearance. Again, I closed my eyes and ate.
I cleaned up the best that I could. Then, deciding that I needed to keep up my strength in other ways, I stood up and did some stretches and squats. I also looked around the shed to see if there were any weak areas that I could exploit to escape. The shed was a round hut, made of what I guessed was grass and clay. It was a solid piece except for the door, which I assumed would be guarded.
My hopes of escape dashed for the time, I laid back down on the floor and proceeded to do some sit-ups. That allowed me to look at the earthen floor. I didn’t know if there was a foundation that connected the hut to the ground, or if the hut was simply built on top of the ground. However, my heart beat a little faster when I saw that someone or something had started digging a bit under the hut wall. It wasn’t a huge hole, but it was enough to tell me I might be able to dig my way out.