the ransom note

the ransom note

A Story by Heyns
"

thrilling tale of a ransom and a beaten down cop. Cliche I know but you gotta start somewhere.

"

“you bring money, I bring the boy, corner of 5th and Broadway”

A simple note. A simple directive. It was anything but simple. They all went down like this " every single damn one of them. Maybe that’s the simple part, all kidnappings happen the same way. You think they’d get creative after all these years, but these blackmailing b******s are all the same. The want the money and that’s all. They don’t care if the little rich boy dies, well until they do it. The silver lining of the dead kidnap victims is that the perps just can’t handle it. They unravel faster than badly knit sweater. But if you’re lucky, you can find a string to pull before they pull theirs.

That was Jack’s job. The negotiator. The string puller. The string finder. His “string-theory” had worked so well he had gained some fame around the city. Yet, this fame made it worst. See Jack hated the fame, because to him it robbed the victims of justice. The only justice for all those dead would be if everyone stopped pretending to live cute little lives so oblivious to the truth that life was a badly knit sweater waiting to unravel. Jack was unraveling.

He didn’t have a wife to loose, a dog that would die, children who could despise him, or even friends to betray him. Jack had never needed any of these. He wasn’t even a drinker or a drug addict. Somehow Jack wasn’t the normal cop who unravels into a bottle or violence. Jack unraveled into blank spaces of time that he just lost, never to get back again. This was a problem when you’re negotiating so he had taken a hiatus. A nice long vacation that looked like it might just turn into retirement until the note showed up on the mayor’s breakfast plate.

They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and the mayor should’ve just skipped breakfast that day because the how day just went straight down the toilet. Her boy had been sleeping over with some friends. He had been on his way to school, when he stopped to tie his shoe. It should’ve been a nice short walk to his elementary school. The other boys were racing to see who could get there first. Then the boy’s shoelace came untied and that’s when it happened. He just disappeared.

No witnesses. No 911 calls. There was nothing to indicate anything. The teacher even forgot to call roll. But then the note showed up on a nice eggs benedict. Must’ve been a bad egg.

Maybe it was fate. That very morning Jack had come in to make sure everyone knew he was still alive and doing well. Some new recruit hungry and green had been lapping up the war stories of some of the senior agents. Someone jokingly asked Jack what his worst case was. Which one kept cool Jack awake at night? The idiot new it was a bad idea right after the wordless left his stupid mouth. Jack’s face went blank, his eyes stopped moving from face to face and looked the dumb-a*s square. Then Jack stared right through the loudmouth and deep into his memories.

“There was one. Every case has a mistake. A parent who doesn’t pay up, trying to out man a thug, or maybe an over-eager young buck trying to make his first arrest. But there was one that did me right. One that had me guessing till we found the body in the river. B*****d never even collected a dime. He just disappeared, faster than the kid did. He didn’t follow the rules, he didn’t call, he didn’t demand. He didn’t even put down a dollar amount. All we got was notes. No time, nothing. The parents didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know any better. We tried everything. He didn’t play by the rules.” Then Jack just froze and stood there. The room was silent, and after a couple minutes people peeled off and slunk into their offices. Jack shook it off once everyone was gone and walked to the door.

The phone rang. Jack wasn’t going home today. The b*****d was back. Jack and his boss drove over the mayor’s house and Jack gave it to her straight.

“Ma’am I don’t mean to be insensitive but we have a fine timeline here. I know that people are telling you how to handle this one, to stall, to not pay. But this b*****d doesn’t play by those rules. I know. I played him and I lost. I lost a boy, about the same age as your boy. Please don’t make my mistakes.”

“Agent, I heard you were good once, but you really have cracked,” said the husband.

Jack ignored him and stare right into the woman’s eyes, “Ma’am I’m not lying. You have to trust me. I’ve seen way too many of these to tell you otherwise. If I thought we could stall this guy, I would be the first and the best. I could buy enough time to get his own mama to make the arrest. This man don’t play by these rules. He didn’t even put a dollar amount down.”

“Agent, that’s enough. You’re scaring my wife and you need to leave.”

A police officer walked up with two notes.

“you write the future now”

That was it. The other note was blank. Jack didn’t miss a beat, “Ma’am this is the exact same man. I don’t have time to prove that. But you have to listen to me.”

“No! Get him out!”

As the officers were hauling out the protesting Jack the mayor stared into his eyes. She was helpless and couldn’t find the right words, but she begged him to do what he needed to do.

So, he did. He went to 5th and Broadway with a duffle bag stuffed with all his money. Jack had been a frugal and spartan man. He never owned or bought much, so a lot of his paycheck went into savings for retirement, but Jack would work till his last day to get this b*****d. He had it all, several hundred thousand dollars.

He was planning out the ways to get this b*****d as he was alone, standing on a street corner. A bus stopped in front of him, and then it all went black.

He woke up in a dark room, tied to a pipe. The sniffling and muffled sobs of a boy had woken him.

“Ah, you woke up,” came a voice out of the darkness.

“Who are you?” croaked Jack.

“I am the game changer,” said the voice. There was a silence and then it asked, “why you? You’re not connected to the mayor’s family. You’re a semi retired FBI agent.”

“You remember a little boy named Donald Summers?”

“Yes, such a tragedy.”

“B*****d!”

“Watch your language in front of the boy,” hissed the voice. “It was a tragedy! A tragedy that his parents didn’t care. Like you did. You show up here, with what I can only expect is your life savings for a boy you don’t know.  They gave nothing, but you would give everything,” it kept hissing. There was a silence, filled with sniffs and little sobs. Then suddenly a man jumped at Jack, grabbed his face and yelled, Why?!”

“Cause I’m going to get you, you b*****d!”

“What?”

“Donald was the only one I lost. Other died, yes, but because no one listened. But that one was all me.”

“So, what you promised the Summers their boy would be avenged?”

“Something like that.”

The man laughed and let go of Jack. He asked, “and who is going to come for you?”

“What?”

“This boy’s mother is standing on the corner of 5th and Broadway with every penny and jewel she could grab. I know its not for you. So, you’re going to die. No one is coming for you, you don’t have a wire, you don’t have a radio. No one knows you’re here.”

The man took the boy and left.

Jack was alone and he was trying his best to grasp the situation. He was trying to fidget out of the knots or break the pipe. Then the man came back, he opened the door and was backlit. He came back empty handed.

“You probably want to know what happened. Well, I will tell you why I do what I do. Then I’m going to kill you. See I have to tell someone otherwise, I’ll come unraveled.”

“Then don’t.”

“What and come unraveled and spill my guts to the police?”

“Yes.”

“At least you don’t lie. But now I need you to listen.” He walked over and gagged Jack. “See it all began with my parents, as all bad things do. My brother got very sick, and though we had a lot of money my parents didn’t pay for the experimental drug. It was just too expensive. I tried everything, I sold cookies and lemonade. I designs T-shirts. Nothing helped. Nothing worked. He died, alone, because my parents didn’t want to lose the money they spent on the family vacation. So, now and then I pick a child and see how much a parent is willing to give. Our lovely mayor would’ve given it all. She was so lovely. I let her keep her money, on one condition. I needed her to sacrifice you. Give up her job, her money, her house, or save your life. Too bad her husband showed up with some of your buddies. She’s so compassionate and he just doesn’t care about you. I’m not really sure what she’d have said, but its to late now. So, how do you want to die?” he walked over and removed the gag.

Jack was silent.

“At least tell me if you liked my story!"

Jack was silent.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk I’ll cut it of you.” The man grabbed a knife and scraped it up Jack’s arm shaving the flesh off.

Jack was silent.

The man threw the knife next to Jack’s head. It was now stuck in the pipe, so the man started beating Jack.

Jack was silent.

The man started to rage. Yelling and screaming at Jack. He starting running in and out of the room, bringing in more torture devices waving them in front of Jack’s face.

Jack was silent.

Finally, the man brought in a table and a set of chairs. He put two pieces of paper on the table and then handcuffed Jack to the chair. Jack’s right arm he left free, it was flowing with blood anyway. The man pushed a pen into Jack’s hand and put it on the paper. The other piece of paper said, “write your future.” The man was sweating and grunting with the effort of torture.

Jack was silent. He didn’t even move.

The man then went crazy. He started slamming the table. He banged Jack’s chair with wrenches and chains. Finally he walked out. Jack fidgeted with cuffs. The chair was metal, but he found a way to slide his feet out. The man had left a saw on the table. He grabbed it with his hand. Despite the blinding pain, he began sawing through the cuff chain.

The man came back the next morning. Expecting a more complaint victim. Hunger is the worst torture, mix it with loneliness and get whatever you want.

All he found was a note on the table.

“I’m going to get you, you b*****d”

© 2012 Heyns


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

257 Views
Added on August 27, 2012
Last Updated on August 31, 2012
Tags: drama, thriller, tragedy, crime, ransom, cops, family, negotiators

Author

Heyns
Heyns

Portland, OR



About
Trying to figure out if writing is just a hobby or a love that can take care of me and my little family (wife, cat and me). Otherwise I crunch numbers, lame. Any constructive criticism would be gre.. more..

Writing