The Abduction: A Novel (11 page)

NINETEEN

SHOWING MAJOR ELSTON
and his wife the film of their daughter was one of the hardest things Kat had ever done. But even as she was doing it she felt the satisfaction that came from doing well something that most other people would find impossible.

Am I a monster? Should I be crying too? Or is it good that I’m clear-headed and focused at times like these?

She recalled the conversation she’d had earlier with Saito, when he’d phoned to tell her the Elstons wanted her kept on the investigation. “Which makes me wonder how they even knew you were coming off it. You’re trouble, Tapo.” But he’d said it without rancour, only a grudging admiration. “Since they like you so much, you get the shitty job of telling them what’s happened.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll be glad to.”

Well, “glad” might have been a slight exaggeration. As well as showing them the film, Kat had to explain that their daughter had been abducted from a swingers’ club. Her father had managed to sit through the video without breaking down – unlike his wife, whose animal howling had echoed round the house – but he flatly refused to accept that Mia would have gone to such a place voluntarily.

“There must be some mistake. Either she was lured there, or she didn’t know what kind of club it was. She’s underage, for Christ’s sake,” he added furiously. “A child.”

“Actually, the age of sexual consent in Italy is thirteen,” Kat said. “Fourteen, if one partner is several years older. Sixteen if a priest or teacher is involved, and eighteen for prostitutes. Club Libero operates an over-21 door policy, but that’s discretionary. And all the evidence we’re hearing suggests Mia went there of her own accord.”

In response, the major only clenched his fists, visibly struggling not to hit something.

It was Holly who said carefully, “Sir, I’m an officer’s daughter myself, and I grew up on a base very much like this one. Sometimes you can find yourself caught between two different cultures – between trying new things, and being the person your… the military wants you to be. So you do your experimenting in secret. My bet is that Mia didn’t go to the club for the same reason as the other patrons. I’m guessing that when she found out there was a place like that almost on her doorstep, it seemed different and exciting, and her curiosity simply got the better of her. Think of it as proof that she’s a brave, bright, curious young woman, not that she’s disrespecting you.”

The major shook his head in disbelief.

“There’s something else I need to inform you of,” Kat said. “It appears that Mia’s kidnap is politically, rather than financially, motivated. But a kidnap protocol has been put in place, all the same.”

“‘Kidnap protocol’? What’s that?”

“If the kidnappers ask for a ransom, it’s illegal to pay it.”

The major stared at her. “But that’s madness. We’ll pay anything, do anything…”

Kat shook her head. “That would leave you open to prosecution. And to prevent it, your bank accounts have been frozen.”

“But… how do we buy groceries? Food?” the major said, stunned. “How do we live?”

“You’ll be given a small allowance by the state. I must warn you not to try to circumvent this system. It’s for everyone’s good, and the penalties for ignoring it are severe.” It was true that the number of kidnaps in Italy had fallen dramatically since kidnap protocols had been introduced, but she thought it better not to mention the tragedies that had also occurred, when criminal gangs had assumed that people who were desperate enough would somehow find a way round them.

“Civilian Liaison will make sure you have everything you need,” Holly said quietly.

“And I’ll need to take Mia’s laptop,” Kat added. “Our specialists will look for anything on it that might be relevant.”

Major Elston shook his head. “There’s nothing there. Only homework and emails from friends.”

“How can you be sure?”

He hesitated. “I was… keeping an eye on it.”

“In what way?” she said, puzzled.

He fixed her with a steady look. “I installed some software that monitored her internet use.”

“You mean, like a filter?”

“This is more thorough than a filter. It actively scans for questionable activity and sends me daily reports, or alerts me in real time if anything untoward is happening. If necessary, I can see everything she’s seeing, watch what sites she visits, read her messages…”

Kat was too surprised to respond. Holly said, “Was Mia aware you were doing this?”

“She knows that unregulated use of the internet worries me, and that I’m a responsible and pro-active parent. But I never specifically shared with her that I was monitoring what she did online.” He caught Kat’s expression. “There are dangerous people out there, Captain. So-called friends who aren’t really who they seem. Sites dedicated to explicit materials, gambling, subversive philosophies. And then there are the security implications. Imagine if a teenager mentioned online that her father’s unit was being deployed to a particular country. That information could be useful to America’s enemies.”

“You could have talked to her about the dangers,” Kat said. “Explained how to stay safe.”

“I did. The software was just a backup. And in the event, it was never necessary. Her online activity never gave me any cause for concern.”

“Nevertheless, we’ll need the laptop,” Kat said firmly. “Yours too, if you have logs of the sites she’d been visiting.”

Upstairs, as they bagged Mia’s computer, Holly said, “You think he was being overprotective, don’t you?”

Kat nodded. “Yes. But it’s more than that – I think he’s got it completely wrong, somehow. Remember what Toomer said? Mia was teasing him about explicit things she’d seen on the net. Then there was her Carnivia account. And it’s a fair bet she found Club Libero online too, just like Daniele did. If her father was using spy software, how come he didn’t pick up on any of that?” She gestured at the computer. “Somehow, whatever’s on here must be part of it.”

TWENTY

AFTER SHE’D MADE
the film setting out the kidnappers’ demands, they took her back to her cell. On the mattress was her reward: a plate with some bread and a piece of cheese.

Harlequin had watched her eat, then taken the plate away. “Rest,” he’d ordered.

She’d tried, but there were too many thoughts going through her head. So now she knew why she’d been kidnapped: because of the new base, Dal Molin. She was aware that it was a contentious issue with some of the locals – the walls surrounding Camp Ederle were covered in graffiti about it, and the bigger demonstrations and rallies got a paragraph or two in
The Outlook
, the base newsletter – but she’d assumed it was only a small minority who cared one way or the other. Most of the Italians she met seemed really friendly.

All the same, the discovery gave her hope. She had an idea that if they’d been asking for a ransom, it might have been more difficult; she knew the Pentagon didn’t pay out for kidnaps, in case it encouraged others. And her own parents were hardly wealthy. But her captors, it seemed, just wanted some kind of local referendum. That, surely, was no big deal – no one could object to a democratic vote, could they?

But even as she thought about it, she realised that was precisely why the authorities might not like it. She didn’t know much about Italian politics, but presumably being forced into a democratic exercise by what was effectively a terrorist group would be a humiliation for the government. And if a majority voted for the Americans to leave, it would create a problem for both countries. America would have to ignore the wishes of the host nation’s citizens, which in turn would fan the flames of the protest for years to come.

Far easier, perhaps, just to leave her here.

She wondered if the kidnappers were prepared for that. It seemed like they were prepared for most things.

The chain rattled at the door of her cell. It was Harlequin, beckoning her.

“Come.”

As directed, she walked into the larger room, where she stopped short at the sight of a rope, hanging over a thick roof beam. On the floor was a coil of hosepipe that also hadn’t been there earlier. Bauta stood to one side, watching.

“Move.” Harlequin pushed her, making her walk to where the rope was. When she was in position he said, “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

Startled, she didn’t react immediately, and he shouted furiously, “The prisoner will remove her clothes.”

She did as he ordered, trying not to look at either of them. When she was finished he produced the handcuffs he’d used on her before. “Wrists.”

Obediently she held up her wrists for him to cuff, although her heart was racing.

He tied the rope to the short chain linking the handcuffs, then reached for the other end, pulling on it to raise her hands until they were above her head. Then he tied the free end to a bolt in the wall.

The flash of anger she’d witnessed when she’d been slow to obey him had vanished now. He seemed calm – almost, she thought, as if he were deliberately steeling himself for something.

He said stiffly, “I regret that this is necessary.”

He turned and gestured to Bauta to start recording.

DAY TWO

TWENTY-ONE

AT PRECISELY 4 A.M.
all known members of the Azione Dal Molin protest group were roused from their beds. Their computers and phones were seized, and their partners and families told to leave so that search teams could take apart their homes.

The suspects were brought back to the Carabinieri headquarters. Because there were so many of them, the interviews were still going on at 9 a.m. when Saito went into the press conference.

Flanked by the prosecutor on one side and Mia’s parents on the other, he read out a short statement. A teenage girl, the daughter of an American officer based in Vicenza, had been abducted. A group calling itself Azione Dal Molin, which had recently come to the attention of the Carabinieri in the context of another investigation, had claimed responsibility. All known members of the group had now been taken in for questioning.

Saito looked around the room, confident that everyone there understood the implications of what he was saying: the Carabinieri had acted swiftly and decisively. “Needless to say, this is a very fluid situation, against an enemy who is not afraid to use terror tactics on an innocent victim. However, the Carabinieri remain confident of an early arrest, and of course Mia’s safe return.”

Holly, sitting just behind Major Elston and his wife, translated the general’s words for them. They seemed almost mesmerised by the barrage of flashes from the photographers’ cameras.

Saito paused. “Although there are no indications that Mia has been harmed, I should warn you that this film is not pleasant viewing.” He turned to the screen behind him and nodded to a technician to start the video.

The Elstons had their backs to the screen, as did Holly, so it was only when she saw the shock on Saito’s face that she realised something was amiss. She looked round.

The film they’d seen yesterday had started with Mia in the van, hooded and bound. But it was a different image that was on the screen now. Mia was standing. Her shackled arms had been pulled over her head by a rope attached to the ceiling, forcing her up onto her toes. She was naked.

A crude caption appeared:

NUDITY IS USED TO CAUSE PSYCHOLOGICAL DISCOMFORT, PARTICULARLY IF AN INDIVIDUAL, FOR CULTURAL OR OTHER REASONS, IS ESPECIALLY MODEST.

The picture held on Mia shifting her weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other. Another caption appeared:

THE WRISTS ARE SHACKLED TO A BAR OR HOOK IN THE CEILING ABOVE THE HEAD FOR PERIODS RANGING FROM TWO OR THREE DAYS CONTINUOUSLY, AND FOR UP TO TWO OR THREE MONTHS INTERMITTENTLY.

The film cut back to Mia. A figure wearing a Harlequin mask entered the frame from the left. He was holding a hose. As water gushed from the end, he sprayed Mia with it, causing her to shriek in terror and shock.

THE MINIMUM PERMISSIBLE TEMPERATURE OF THE WATER USED IN WATER DOUSING IS 41°F, THOUGH YOU HAVE INFORMED US THAT IN PRACTICE THE TEMPERATURE IS GENERALLY NOT BELOW 50°F SINCE TAP RATHER THAN REFRIGERATED WATER IS GENERALLY USED.

Holly turned to the Elstons, who still hadn’t looked round. “Sir, Mrs Elston, you need to come with me,” she said urgently. “Now.”

The major took one look at her face, then put his arm around his wife and bodily pulled her to her feet. “Follow Boland.”

She got them out by the nearest door as quickly as she could, trying to ignore both what was happening on the screen and the cameras that turned to follow their progress.

When they were outside, Major Elston took a deep breath. “Thank you, Second Lieutenant. I take it that wasn’t something my wife would want to see?”

“I don’t think it was, sir, no.”

“What was it?”

“Really, sir, I don’t exactly know.” She hesitated. “The kidnappers appeared to be spraying her with water.”

But she didn’t tell him about the last thing she’d seen, just as the door closed on the conference; another title flashing onto the screen, above the heads of the assembled journalists.

HAVE YOU WORKED IT OUT YET?

TWENTY-TWO

“
IT SEEMS THE
original film wasn’t a clip at all, but a kind of embedded link,” Holly said. “In other words, when the kidnappers updated the footage on the server, the original was replaced by the new film.”

“Where’s this footage being hosted?”

“Carnivia – a social media site based here in Venice. The site’s owner, Daniele Barbo, is being questioned.”

“They think he had something to do with it?”

“Not necessarily, but the Carabinieri want to examine his servers to see if the source code gives any clue to the kidnappers’ location. So far, I understand, Barbo is sticking to his blanket policy of not cooperating with the authorities.”

She’d been summoned to update Colonel Carver, Major Elston’s commanding officer. He sat in the middle of a long table, flanked by serious-faced staff officers and a sprinkling of men in dark suits she assumed were kidnap specialists. She wasn’t introduced, but she knew a council of war when she saw one.

Carver shook his head angrily. “I spent a lot of time and money trying to contain the anti-Dal Molin activity. Instead, it looks like they’ve managed to get the whole world looking our way, and put a young American’s life in jeopardy at the same time. I suppose the Italian media are all over the story?”

“Affirmative, sir.” She took some printouts from a folder and placed them in front of him. Carver picked up the top one. It was from the blog written by the political campaigner Raffaele Fallici. Entitled “Persona Non Grata”, it usually consisted of an angry polemic against the various failings of the establishment. But today, perhaps because he was mindful of his own putative role in the affair, it was entirely devoted to a denunciation of Azione Dal Molin’s tactics – “From which, for the avoidance of all doubt, I hereby distance myself unreservedly. Indeed, there is nothing more likely to turn the sound judgement of the Italian people against the anti-Dal Molin movement than the damaging and irresponsible hijacking of a worthy cause by those whose overriding mentality is simply that of terrorists. In one reprehensible action, they have handed the moral high ground in this affair straight to Washington.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” Carver said, passing it on.

Many of the papers already had the story up on the breaking news sections of their websites, illustrated by photographs of Mia taken from the internet. As most of the pictures were several years old, they had the effect of making her look even younger than she actually was. The headline in
Il Gazzettino
was fairly typical: “
INNOCENZA RUBATA
”, it screamed, above a particularly fresh-faced shot of the stolen innocent in question. The writer had somehow discovered that Mia had signed up to an abstinence movement; she was, he went on to say, the embodiment of the religious values that, more than anything, continued to unite their two nations.

“Several papers have asked us for a quote,” Holly said. “Do you want me to draft something?”

Carver fixed her with his gaze. “Tell them that America will hunt down and destroy our enemies wherever we find them.”

“Roger that, sir.” She hesitated. “Although technically, it will be the Carabinieri who’ll do the hunting down here, since this is Italian territory.”

Carver waved the objection away. “Then you’d better write some of that soft-soap stuff you people in Liaison always write. Just try not to be too obsequious to America’s adversaries, will you, Second Lieutenant? Every sign of weakness here is another haji emboldened to blow up our troops over there.”

“And Richard and Nicole? How are they holding up?” one of the staff officers asked quietly.

“Mrs Elston is in a bad way,” Holly said frankly. “The doctors are keeping her heavily sedated – they think it’s the best thing for her at this stage. The major’s coping pretty well, all things considered.”

“Major Elston is one of the toughest fighting men who ever served in this brigade,” Carver said. “A decorated hero and an inspiration to his men. He won’t buckle, no matter what pressure he’s put under.”

Holly said nothing. Mia was clearly the apple of her father’s eye, and it seemed to her that no man could fail to be destroyed by the knowledge that his daughter was being treated in such a way.

“But you’re to come to me personally the moment he shows any signs to the contrary,” Carver added. “I want daily updates. And I particularly want to know any details of the Italian investigation that aren’t being placed in the public domain.”

One of the men in suits said, “The Carabinieri’s record for pulling off successful rescues in situations like these stands at about sixty per cent.”

There was silence while the rest of the room digested this. “And the other forty per cent?” someone asked. “Are they killed by the kidnappers?”

The specialist shook his head. “Most die during rescue attempts.”

This time the silence went on even longer.

“So we offer what we’ll call ‘training and support’,” Carver said at last. “Effective immediately. That is to say, when they do locate her, we’ll jump in and take over as necessary. Meanwhile, we’ll have a team of our own people double-tracking the Carabinieri investigation, in the hope we find her before they do.”

“Affirmative, sir. I take it you don’t want the Carabinieri to know that’s what we’re doing?”

“Too right, Second Lieutenant. When the life of an American innocent is at risk, diplomatic niceties come second. Mia’s safety is our only priority now.”

She saluted. “Roger that, sir.” He nodded to show she was dismissed.

Leaving the war room, she headed over to the far side of Camp Ederle, to the Education Block. In theory, three different American universities offered courses here, helping soldiers gain the qualifications that would get them jobs when their military careers were over. In practice, those who used these facilities were mostly wives and retirees; as, indeed, were many of the teachers.

She found a small classroom marked “CH12 – Roman Civilization” and knocked.

“Come on in,” a familiar voice said.

She smiled a greeting to the white-haired man by the window. She often consulted Ian Gilroy about matters relating to her work, given his long experience of running the CIA’s Venice section before his retirement, but it was something more specific that had prompted her to arrange this meeting today. One of his cases, back in the period of turmoil in Italy known as the Years of Lead, had concerned the kidnap of the young Daniele Barbo, whose mother was American. Daniele had been mutilated by his kidnappers, but she knew that many in the intelligence community believed that, had it not been for Gilroy’s behind-the-scenes counsel, the outcome could have been far worse. Daniele’s father had evidently agreed, subsequently appointing Gilroy to the board of his art foundation, a role he had continued to hold ever since. Daniele himself, though, took a rather different view. Since the Foundation controlled all the family’s wealth, Gilroy was now effectively Daniele’s guardian in financial matters, something the younger man deeply resented.

She updated him on the Carabinieri investigation, just as she had Carver, with the difference that this time she added a summary of Colonel Carver’s remarks as well.

“An interesting situation,” Gilroy said thoughtfully when she’d finished.

“In what way, sir?”

“It just seems curious that the kidnappers should have chosen Daniele as their conduit, given his own history. It gives a strange kind of…
symmetry
to the story, doesn’t it?” He mused for a while. “Do any of the news reports mention Carnivia?”

“Most of them. But it’s Fallici who’s going the furthest, on his blog.”

Gilroy got out his reading glasses as she handed him the printout. “‘It is literally incredible,’” he read out loud, “‘that an organisation can be permitted to exist whose sole purpose is to facilitate the propagation of pornography, to make possible anonymous slanders, to facilitate tax evasion and petty crime, to break all the laws of our country, and to spread malicious innuendo and rumour. That it has the effrontery to reside right here, in our own country, rather than in some desperate and despotic tax haven, says more about the inherent corruption and political apathy of our nation than even the ongoing scandal of our crime statistics. For the crimes on Carnivia.com are potentially numberless. Even now, it could be that the abduction and subsequent brutalisation of a thousand more Mias is being planned within its darkest corners. I have long supported the freedom of the internet. But with great freedom comes great responsibility. Is it too much to ask that the authorities finally exert themselves to bring this festering cyberslum under something resembling control?’” He raised his eyebrows. “Fiery stuff.”

“It sure is.”

“What is it, Holly?” he said, noticing her hesitation.

“Daniele spotted that some of the messages he was sent were lifted word for word from CIA directives. It seems a fair bet that the captions on the films were, too.” She gestured at the printout in his hand. “Assuming the kidnappers have more material to quote from, and that it’s all going to be blown up by the media, what are the political implications of this?”

“Ah, Holly. As ever, you’ve thought about the bigger picture that your more gung-ho colleagues have missed. It was a great loss to Langley when you decided to enter the military, I hope you know that.” He considered. “In answer to your question, it probably depends on what else the kidnappers have, and how they choose to use it.”

“Think I should do some more digging? See what else might be coming out?”

“Indeed I do, Holly. It’s what you’re best at. Let’s try to figure how this might play out for Mia, before any of these hotheads unleash their dogs of war.”