Chapter Thirty
" guys are going to have to untie my hands and let me sit up, if you want me to find the drive for you," I said in as calm a voice as I could muster. I could feel my phone buzzing in my back pocket ever few minutes, and I knew that Ryan and Cece knew that I was missing. I just hoped that they were smart enough to figure out that I had set my phone up so that they could track it on my computer.
"Nice try," said the sinister voice. "But you're not getting loose."
"Then you're going to have to take a crash course in computer programming," I said. "Because one of us has to type in the program codes."
I listened as the two kidnappers whispered quietly for a few minutes, and then the goon said, "Okay, I'll type. Tell me what you want me to do."
I quickly began reeling off the most complicated programming language I could remember from my senior thesis seminar just to test their level of computer knowledge. Thirty-seconds into my instructions, the goon yelled, "What the hell are you even talking about?"
"You guys do understand that programming if far more complicated than doing a simple Google search, don't you?" I replied in as condescending a manner as I could muster.
"Yeah, but I don't even understand what language your speaking," the goon said. "Is that English?"
"No, it's coding language," I sighed. "It's akin to being fluent in a foreign language."
"Well, I'm definitely not fluent," the goon said.
"Then we're going to have to figure out another way to do this," I replied. "Either you're going to have to learn the language quickly or you're going to have to let me get up and program the computer to access the files. Your call, gentlemen."
Again, they whispered, and as their voices rose and fell, I knew I'd hit a nerve. They were going to be forced to let me up if they wanted to locate the drive. If they didn't let me up, they were going to be hampered by the fact that neither one of them were coders. I threw up a little prayer that they would not call in someone who did know how to code because then I'd be screwed.
"Fine," the sinister voice said in a clipped tone. "We'll let you up, but you're going to be tied to this chair while you do your job."
"Fine," I said as waited for them to loosen the straps that were holding me down. I was expecting the sinister one to undo me, but it was the goon who did it.
"Don't try and be sneaky," he warned as he loosened the ties around my shoulders. "I'm going to have my gun on you the whole time, so one wrong move and you're toast."
"Gee, thanks," I said as he undid the strap around my waist and I sat up. "It's so reassuring to know that one wrong move and I'll be shot."
"You know what I'm saying," he said as he pulled off the strap that held my legs firmly to the table. "Don't pull anything."
"I wouldn't dream of it," I replied in a saccharine tone. "Where's the computer?"
"Over here," he said lifting me off of the table. My legs were a bit weak and I felt light headed as the blood in my body flowed back where it belonged. I stumbled as I walked toward the desk and the goon caught me tightly by the arm and yanked me back to a standing position. "Ouch!"
"Walk straight," he ordered.
"I'm a little dizzy from being tied to that table for four days," I said overdramatizing the time.
"Four days? Hardly. More like twelve hours," he laughed. I nodded as I rubbed my arms and did a few knee bends. Now I knew how long I'd been missing. Surely, Ryan and Cece were looking for me. "Sit here."
I sat down in the chair and surveyed the computer. It was older than my laptop, but I was familiar with the make and model, so I quickly went to work pulling up screens and starting to code a program that would make it look like I had a lock on the hard drive.
"Can I have some paper and a pen?" I asked.
"What the hell do you need that for?" the good said.
"I need to sketch out a few formulas before I input them," I said. The truth was that I needed to sketch the room so that I didn't forget what it looked like or where things were. My phone began vibrating in my pocket as I did, but I didn't dare answer it. If the kidnappers hadn't taken it from me, that meant they didn't know I had it and I wasn't about to give up my lifeline now.
"Here," the goon said as he pushed a stack of paper he pulled out of the printer tray and a pen at me. I immediately recognized it as TriCorp stationary because of its unique watermark, and suddenly I felt very hopeful. I had an idea of where I was even if I wasn't certain. "Do whatever it is you do."
"Thank you," I said as I began writing random formulas on the top sheet of the pad.
"How the hell do you remember all those numbers?" he asked as he watched me write.
"They're codes, so they all fit together," I replied. "It's kind of like asking how you know how to form a sentence."
"Huh, that's interesting," he said sounding completely uninterested. I shrugged and returned to writing formulas occasionally looking around the room as if searching for the next equation. On the second sheet of paper, I wrote the formulas in a rectangle the size of the room and put various formulas in places where doors and windows were. My goal was to snap a picture of the drawing with my phone's camera and send it to Cece and hope that she'd be able to interpret it. I still had no idea where I was, but at the very least I could provide her and whoever was going to rescue me with a blue print of the room.
"Are you okay?" I asked the goon. He was slightly bent over in his chair with his arms wrapped around his waist.
"Yeah, fine. Why?" he said as he tried to sit up.
"You don't look so hot," I shrugged. "Just being nice."
"My gut is killing me," he confessed. "I need a bathroom, but I can't leave you here."
"Why not just anchor me to the desk?" I suggested. I knew there was no way I would be able to escape, but at least I could get him to leave me alone with my phone.
"Good idea," the goon said as he nodded and slipped a cable around my leg, then around the leg of the desk and back around the base of the chair before locking one end into the other.
"Did you just use a bike lock on me?" I asked incredulously.
"Yep, good catch," he grinned as he twirled the keys around his forefinger. I watched him as he walked to the back of the room and into what looked like a supply closet. "Don't go anywhere!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said in a flat voice as I heard the door slam. I wasn't sure if there was a bathroom back there or if he'd exited out a back door. I quickly added the door to my formula drawing as well as a small verification that only Cece would recognize before I reached into my back pocket for my phone. I pulled it out and saw that there were fourteen missed calls from Cece. She was probably frantic with worry and pissed that I'd gone missing.
I snapped a quick shot of my drawing, then quickly texted the photos to Cece before deleting the message, turning off the phone and shoving it back in my pocket. Behind me, I heard the click of a safety being turned off.
"Nice try, missy," the goon said as he crossed the short distance between us and grabbed my phone out of my pocket. "What did you send?"
"Nothing!" I protested weakly. "I just wanted to keep a picture of the formulas I've written. It's like art, you know?"
"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, babe," he said shaking his head as he turned on my phone and held it out to me. "Unlock it."
I knew better than to resist, so I unlocked it and handed it back to him. He began opening the programs looking for messages I'd sent, but when he didn't find any, he eyed me suspiciously before stuffing my phone in the pocket of his track jacket.
"We'll just wait for the boss to come back and see what he has to say about this," he said. "Get back to work."
"Yes, sir," I said as I saluted and turned back to the computer hoping that Cece had gotten my message and that she could decipher it before the boss returned.