Authors: Jack Parker
Ess sat on the immense bed in the over-sized bedroom, and waited. She had no choice but to wait. After the man with the broken nose had his men force her through the gigantic, elaborately adorned entry doors of the most ostentatious house she had ever laid her eyes on, she was dragged up a needlessly wide staircase that rose higher than the stairs to her third floor apartment. Ess made sure that the climb proved a challenge for the men, as she would not go to her doom peacefully. However hard she fought, though, in the end she ended up in an opulently decorated bedroom that was nearly twice the size of her own home.
The dark wood paneling and intricate deep-colored Indian style rugs lent
a
menacing feel to the space. The massive four-poster bed looked like an antique monstrosity in the middle of the room, while a dimly lit corner held a sitting area that consisted of a very formal looking chair and love seat. In front of an unlit fireplace, which had an ornately carved cherry wood and white marble mantle piece, sat an exceptionally dramatic chaise lounge. It looked poised and ready to catch a swooning damsel upon the entrance of Dracula or some other sinister creature.
If Ess hadn't been in dire circumstances, she would have been somewhat diverted with the spectacle and the grandeur. As it was, it only lent an aura of malice to her predicament.
Once in the room, the man with the broken nose gave her
a
quick tour, which was rather uncomfortable and awkward for both parties involved. He directed her to the large walk-in closet just off of her en suite bathroom. There were many outfits for all occasions, or so he made her aware, and all the clothes and shoes were in her size.
"Boss had all of your sizes and preference information given to a personal shopper. She took care of the details. If there's anything in there you don't like, Boss will have it replaced with something else." He didn't bother to hide his disinterest and distain for her as he spoke. Lastly, he instructed her to clean up and rest. It was late, and Angoli wouldn't be seeing her until the morning. "I'm leaving now. Too much girly shit for me for one day. Someone will be along to fetch you in the morning for breakfast. You'll be eating with Mr. Angoli, so you better be ready when you're called."
With that he swept out of the room, followed by his thugs who had been hovering at the doorway.
Ess spent a good hour checking any possible modes of escape, the obvious one being the door. She found that it had been locked from the outside, and there appeared to be no lock on the inside. How unfortunate. Her kidnappers could keep her in, but she wouldn't be able to keep them out. Next were the two large windows. The panes could be swung open, but there were bars blocking any attempt at escape. Even without the bars, the drop looked far too risky to attempt without causing severe injury. Even a ballsy move like climbing up the fireplace's chimney had been thwarted by the narrowness of its chute.
As all hope of escape diminished, Ess began to give in to the idea of her capture. She would have to play out her part for as long as she could. With this resolution in mind, she headed to the bathroom. The one positive thing to come of this change in circumstances would be
a
real shower.
The bathroom held
a
surprising number of products that Ess used on a daily basis, from her face lotion to her deodorant. There were a few extras, as well, such an imported Japanese night cream and a deliciously scented bottle of Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel. A quick rummage through the closet revealed a full wardrobe in her size, most of the clothes were actually in her taste, with a few gaudy exceptions.
Obviously, the kidnapping had been well planned out. They had to have broken into her apartment and gone through her things in detail in order to be so well prepared for her arrival. Ess had never even noticed. She never suspected anything in her home had been out of place, and had been so oblivious and passive to everything in her life that she didn't even realize it had been invaded. She became angry with herself for being so truly unaware. It was all her own fault that she found herself in this dilemma now. If she had only paid attention to the world around her, she could have been prepared, and may have been able to prevent her own demise. She had only herself to blame.
She resignedly turned on the shower and began to clean up. If there could be any chance for escape now, she must be alert and ever ready. There were no deluded hopes and vain plans now. Her only possibility would be opportunity . . . and maybe Max?
So, after the comforting shower, she simply sat on the bed, waiting for opportunity to offer itself, and fearing to permit herself to sleep. The bed proved very comfortable, however, and at long last, sleep finally did prevail.
The next thing she knew, someone had entered her room and thrown open the curtains. The light came streaming in, stinging her eyes, and making her surroundings appear out of focus. It was morning. Such sudden alertness caused her heart to pound the blood into her head, producing sharp pains throughout her skull. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed
a
man standing beside her bed.
The wait was over.
* * *
"Tell me, Max," Manda turned towards the back seat, "Why was it you said that calling the police would be useless?" Max had mentioned it yesterday when they were walking to the car from the cabin, but he had never elaborated. Manda forgot to be skeptical about it at the time, so she decided to make up for it now as a means to break up the long silence in the car.
"Because," Martin interrupted before Max could speak, "Marcus Angoli controls the police force, along with every other government office in the city. They jump when he says jump and they look the other way when he gives them the ol' wink-'n-nod."
Manda gave him a dirty look for answering a question that had not been directed towards him, but continued her inquiry. "How come I've never heard of this guy then, since he has so much sway in the city? I would think that he'd be mentioned on the news or in the paper, or he'd be in the social gossip columns."
Martin had the answer on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated, lest he should receive another severe look from Manda. "Go ahead, Martin." Max cued. Obviously, Martin loved having all the answers on Angoli. He had always been
a
bit of a gossip about what he knew. That's how Max had come to be so informed about the man; and that's probably why, despite Martin's best efforts, Angoli would never promote him from his position as acquisitionist.
"Well, Mr. Angoli doesn't want to be in the media. He has control of that, too. Any kind of spotlight, whatsoever, jeopardizes his control. Can't have the federal authorities looking his way, so he stays behind the scenes. Kind of a recluse in a way. But no one makes
a
move without his approval."
"I see." Manda turned back around in her seat to ponder the new information. After a few minutes she asked another question. "So, all we have to do is get the feds involved?"
Roden and Max stiffened. What a simple answer. Why didn't they think of that before? But Martin counseled them that it wouldn't work. "As smart as that sounds, if we were to inform the feds of the kidnapping, they would just contact the local authorities so that they could avoid 'stepping on anyone's toes'. The local authorities would offer up some kind of lie or excuse or something in return. I just don't think it would go anywhere."
"Well, I don't believe a word you say. You are a liar, a thief and
a
kidnapper." Manda accused. "Not to mention, a horrible date." Max couldn't help but laugh in reaction to that last part, and Roden gave him a stern look through the rearview mirror, which went ignored.
"As much as I hate to say it," Roden spoke up, "I think Martin is right about that one. It would take quite a bit of convincing to get the feds to look into the corruption of the local precincts. Besides, it could take a while before they cut through all the red tape and move in on the local law enforcement's turf. We need to work fast. There is no time to lose on this. We can get the feds involved after we get Ess away from Angoli."
Everyone grudgingly agreed with that, and made the decision to move forward with
a
plan.
"What kind of security system does this place have?" That seemed to Roden to be the logical place to start.
"Oh, the security system is excellent. Very high tech. Not to mention, there are guards." Martin unleashed the negative aspects so that he could impress them with the only positive one. "I do happen to know one weakness, though. One little hiccup in the system that they don't know about. I actually used it once to get in and acquire
a
little artifact for another old client of mine. It was a posthumously exhibited painting by Ary Scheffer. My client owned quite a few of the others already, but Angoli would not sell him the one in his possession for any amount, just to spite this man. I told the guy I could acquire it, and I did. Got top fee, too. They still don't know who did it or how it was done. Angoli had the entire local police force working on it, too. Apparently - and this is the best part - he didn't have it insured. A man like that should know better; but then again, I do believe he came by it illegally himself."
"OK," Max prompted, "So what is this weakness?"
"There's a security fence around the entire property. It looks like a tall cast iron fence, but between the metal posts are lasers. If you put your hand through the posts, the laser will sting you. If you leave your hand there for any length of time, the laser power increases, and it stuns you. The same lasers are positioned above the fence, as well, so that you can't scale it.
"However, there is a spot, rather secluded, where even the dogs don't think to look. . . "
"Dogs?" Manda interrupted. "There are dogs?"
"Well, yeah," Martin replied, "What over-the-top security system would be complete without dogs?"
"Well, what do we do about them?" Manda asked, sounding
a
little distressed.
"That's the easy part. They may be trained killers, but they're still dogs. Give them something to munch on, and you're their best friend. These pretzel sticks here that Dr. Roden bought back at the gas station should be enough. Toss them a few of those, then toss them one of these pills, and they won't bother you again."
Martin pulled
a
sandwich bag out of his jacket pocket with a few pills in it. "What the hell are those?" Manda demanded.
"Rohypnol." Martin responded matter-of-factly.
"Rohypnol?" Roden, first stunned, quickly turned livid. "You mean roofies? Damn it, Martin, what the hell are you doing with those?"
"Never know when they could come in handy." Martin seemed to think it was nothing at all to possess the drug.
"Oh, my god! That's a date rape drug!" Manda appeared in to be in a new state of extreme emotion that Roden had not yet seen from her.
"Were you intending to use those on Manda during your date?" Roden's revulsion with Martin reached an all time high.
From the seat beside him, Max stared Martin down, ready to wallop him once again. Such an atrocious act could not go unpunished.
Martin became a little scared at that point, "No, no." He pleaded his side. "I had no intentions, whatsoever. I just keep them around for necessary circumstances; and in my line of work, there are many necessary circumstances. Really, I had no intentions with Manda at all."
While no one could find it in them to completely believe him, they let the accussations drop for the time being. Max did, however, confiscate the pills with a disgusted look of warning aimed towards the man next to him. Finally, Roden found his voice and asked Martin to continue with his explanation on the security weakness.
"Ah, yes, yes. Where was I?" Martin, happy to change the subject, quickly complied with the request. "Ah, yes, there is a secluded spot, where water collects when there has been a lot of rain. I've tested the lasers in that area because they often get flooded in the puddle. The water shorted out a couple of those lasers a long time ago, just as I had suspected. No one has ever caught on. At least they hadn't as of three years ago, when I broke in. If that is still the case, then we can squeeze through the bars there."