Adelaide
I force myself to look around.
The stench is worse than anything I’ve experienced before. And I’ve experienced some of the worse condition. I mean filled bedpans smell better than this place.
Urine, sweat, and stale vomit assault my nostrils. It’s nearly enough to make me puke.
But if I vomit, I’ll only add to the awful smell.
It’s difficult to work out how many my captors are. There’s very little light inside this tiny room I’m being held captive in.
From the little I can see, there are maybe three or four of them.
They look young.
I doubt any of these thin-looking boys are the mastermind behind the kidnapping, if that is what it is. The room has the same bare dirt walls the mud huts in my village have, and yet I know we’re not there anymore.
Once they grabbed me, gagged me, and put a bag over my head, I lost my bearings. And I know I was thrown into the back of a truck. It wasn’t a long drive, but a rough one.
Of course, that means nothing. With the deluge only a short time before, the roads wash away quick, leaving huge potholes.
My throat feels parched. I’m in desperate need of some water, but I won’t ask.
Ironic, really, the minute Ford turns his back disaster strikes.
Would he gloat if he knew?
I doubt it. Ford was not the gloating type.
If Ford had stayed…
I stop the thought process. It’s useless.
Ford was long gone. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything for me.
Even if he hears about this, he’ll be back in the US and then what? It’s not like it’s a five-minute cab ride to come and rescue me.
No. I can’t count on Ford to come to my aide.
Sten will be worried sick and spewing. He’ll be spewing because he warned me this would happen. At the same time though, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to me.
I wonder what their plan is.
No one has come and told me anything. I’m guessing they know who I am.
What they won’t know is that Dad is a hard nut to crack. He won’t just give in to some ransom demand.
On the contrary, Dad will move heaven and earth to make sure he won’t have to spend a dime on my release. His philosophy is simple: no one forces him to do anything.
He hates terrorism. He hates the use of force to get what you want. Come to him with a good idea, business proposal, or something else you need money for, he’ll listen.
Funny how people aren’t able to think outside the box.
Yes, we have money, but no, we’re not unreasonable selfish people.
I sigh and close my eyes again.
With any luck, I’ll survive for at least the next day without water. I’m not sure how game I’m going to be to consume anything these people are going to offer me, if they’re going to offer me something.
Movement at the tiny window high off the ground catches my attention.
I fix my eyes there, but can’t see anything. Must have been my imagination.
Anyway, it’s too soon for anything to be happening. I doubt these people—whoever they are—have even made contact with anyone in my family.
Of course, I shouldn’t stare at the window; it might arouse suspicion. I let my eyes move over the ground. We’re definitely in a very basic mud hut here.
The floor is plain dirt. A pebble lands at my foot.
I gasp.
One of the young boys looks over and points his gun at me.
My heart rate increases, and I start to cough.
Was the pebble my imagination, or was someone trying to send me a message? And if so, who?
Oliver?
I doubt it. That man was probably long gone.
If I ever get to speak to Ford again, I’m going to tell him how useless Oliver had turned out to be.
The boy who pointed his gun comes over to me.
“You quiet,” he growls and threatens me with the weapon.
I swallow.
“Water,” I mumble for lack of something more intelligent to say.
It’s intimidating to have the barrel of a gun in your face. Dad always told us that if we were to be kidnapped, no one would want to harm us since we were only of use alive. But I’m not so sure right now.
Come to think of it, how many times did Dad ever get kidnapped?
Luckily the boy loses interest and joins the others who seem to be arguing over something. It looks like one of them is holding a mobile phone and is trying to work out how to watch an important soccer match played today.
I roll my eyes.
How typical.
Although, I know that should please me a little. If there’s an important soccer match going on, they’re not going to harm me today.
It’s a silly thought really, but I grab it like a drowning man grabs a twig to save his life.
And then there’s another pebble. This time I don’t look up.
Instead, I try and slow my breathing and focus.
What could be the meaning of this?
With my mind working overtime, I don’t see him at first. In fact, for the briefest of seconds, I think I may be imagining him.
But when he holds out a tiny flower for me to see, my heart practically tries to burst through my chest.
If Edgar was here that could only mean one thing.
He was here too. Ford had come to rescue me.
I bite my lip so as not to throb.
And then, before I know what’s happening, the small room fills with an awful smelling mist. It spreads quickly.
Before I lose sight of those who are holding me captive, I see their worried faces and the confusion in their eyes.
What follows is total chaos.
There’s a massive bang, then the sound of bones breaking. If this is Ford coming in Rambo style, I already feel sorry for these boys.
I want to scream but no sound escapes my lips. Instead, I’m gripped by a coughing fit.
Before I recover, his hands are all over me.
“Are you hurt? What did they do to you?”
His eyes are right in front of me.
“I’m fine,” I whisper and feel the tears roll down my cheek.
With his right hand, he wipes them away, and then he kisses me.
I’m not sure, but I think I can hear one of the young boys groan.
Ford leaps to his feet, and I see his fist collide with the cheek of one of the young men.
“Don’t,” I scream involuntarily.
He looks at me.
“Just don’t go over the top,” I whisper.
Ford grabs some rope and quickly binds arms and legs.
Then, he comes back to me, and with one swift movement, he cuts through my ties.
I sigh and fall into his arms.
He bear hugs me. In fact, he’s squeezing so tight I fear he might break a rib or two.
“I’m fine,” I mumble over and over and feel Ford’s soft kisses on the top of my head.
I’ve got about a million questions, but they’ll have to wait till later.
“Let’s go,” says Ford and lifts me up.
“I’m not hurt,” I say, and I snuggle into his chest and link my fingers behind his neck.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself stepping over this filth.”
I stare at the poor boys, blood over their faces.
“They aren’t to blame,” I whisper. “They were forced to do this. Poverty leaves people to do terrible things.”
Ford says nothing.
“How did you find me?”
He pulls out a compass.
“My best friend and closest work colleague left me this before he died. He told me it’ll always lead me to where I need to go.”
I swallow. I’m sure there’s more to this story.
Part of me also wants to know what of the man who masterminded this, but then again, maybe some knowledge is highly overrated.
“Where’re we going?” I mutter into his shirt, but I don’t actually really care.
As far I’m concerned, he can take me wherever he wants to.
“Back to the village.” Ford explains.
Outside, I squint in the bright sunlight.
“Where’d you get this from?” I point at the rusty motorbike.
“Long story,” he grunts.
I’m pleased he hasn’t changed in the short amount of time we’ve been separated.
He lowers me onto the bike and then looks around. He lets out a soft whistle, and Edgar appears by his side.
I watch as he gives the little critter a treat.
“Good thinking to send Edgar in first,” I say and wrap my arms around Ford’s waist as he gets the motorbike going.
I survey our surroundings. We’re truly in the middle of nowhere. The boys had taken me to some long abandoned hut of a farmer somewhere between two villages.
A shiver runs down my spine as I realize how lucky I’ve been to have Ford come back for me.
This could have ended up far worse.