Man Detox: A Novel Read online

  “I am telling you the truth, sir. I met her by accident and somehow ended up exchanging contacts.”

  Ethan stopped short of saying he showed up here on her invitation. That was a secret between the two of them. No one else would know unless she told them. He wouldn’t know if he was set up or not by finding out what she told them more than confessing details himself.

  “So, you are saying, if I understand you correctly, an accidental meet up resulted in an international romantic rendezvous?”

  “More or less. I have no reason to lie out of trust and respect for the situation.”

  Was he saying too much? For all the talking, Ethan couldn’t be sure he had established any kind of meaningful connection with Roger. What makes a man do such a thing?

  “So, her price?”

  “I am will willing to discuss both conditions and resolve this situation peacefully as I am sure you will want to do as well.”

  “What kind of situation do you think this is?”

  “I couldn’t hazard a guess, sir. I am just expressing my willingness to work out a deal with you.”

  “You don’t fucking express willingness. I tell you what to do, and you do it. Do you understand? This isn’t your little boardroom negotiation. I’m not some fucking novice!”

  Ethan took his eyes off the mole on the face and looked down on the ground. This was too intense. His heart started racing again. What if he is forced to call a number? What if he had to lose something to free her?

  “I understand. I am totally with you on that,” he said putting his focus back on the spot and talking calmly.

  Ethan had been through plenty of tense board meetings where ideas and proposals get shredded to pieces in the interest of revealing the valuable truth with no consideration for wounding each other’s ego. He needs to find a way to establish what the man wants.

  “What is the ideal scenario for you, sir?”

  “You don’t get to ask a fucking question!”

  Roger got up from his chair and walloped him in the face a couple of times. For the first time, Ethan could feel something trickling down his nose at the same time as a metallic taste was filling his mouth.

  “You have five minutes to decide. I want a number for her,” Roger lowered his head and whispered in his ear while tapping his shoulder.

  As the door closed behind him, Ethan could hear a renewed exchange in Spanish from a nearby spot. This was horrible, completely unimaginable. He has the life of a stranger he knew little about on his hand. The clock was ticking, and he needed to figure out how much she was worth to him all the while not knowing whether she put him up to this disaster or not.

  ∫---∫

  Chapter Sixteen

  In a corner office of a three-story office park building in Mountain View, CA, an emergency protocol had been triggered.

  “Sir, we have failed to establish contact on five attempts so far,” said a former military police officer with cropped top head of hair and biceps the size of thighs.

  “What are we waiting for then?” Rob asked, frustrated and angry. He was the leader of an eleven member elite commando unit providing private security and surveillance services to the ultra-wealthy.

  Colonel Rob Ratner had had a distinguished military career in the Army followed by a stint in the Joint Personnel Recovery Agency at Fort Belvoir, Virginia. Since then, he had successfully parlayed his experience into providing training and protective services to the new crop of millionaires and billionaires.

  While most of his peers focused on the east coast servicing old money clients and those that made their wealth in finance, Rob had moved to Silicon Valley on instinct to establish one of the first security firms in the area. First comer advantage and his unique ability to deal with young and brash clientele had secured him a firm footing in the business lifting him to the ranks of millionaires in few short years.

  For the expensive retainer fee, clients get a full service of training, oversight, and rescue operations. It was never a pleasant day when he gets the news that one of his clients might have disappeared from their radar on international travel. It was never a good sign.

  The first assumption at all times was, after electronic pinging efforts fail at regularly specified intervals, that something had gone wrong. There was an escalation protocol in place to immediately initiate the search and rescue operation. This effort was mostly complicated by the clients’ interest to minimize publicity at all cost, which meant he needed in-house capability to design and execute the missions rarely needing to rely on government resources. Too much bureaucracy meant precious time was wasted and lives would likely be lost.

  The news now was one of his youngest clients, Ethan Anderson, was likely kidnapped on his travel to a resort in Mexico.

  “What do we know so far?” Rob asked the team of three officers huddled around a table. The walls in the room were plastered with maps of Mexico and the southern region of the United States. On the opposite wall, a map of Cancun with concentric circles drawn centered around one location.

  “We had regular electronic contact throughout travel into the resort and subsequent hours. It appears client left his personal cell phone on the premises. We don’t see movement at all until it went silent.” The lead officer started his briefing from a lectern. “Primary model, the subject left valuable belongings inside a secure safe. The signal indicates less than a yard of movement from said location before the radio silence. We believe the device was extracted and destroyed at the very same location.”

  “What does that leave us with? Has the resort been notified?”

  “Yes, sir. Preliminary inquiry shows sighting of the client at a wedding ceremony followed by a walk on the beach with another individual, an attendee of the wedding on whose invitation the client had gone to Mexico.”

  “Do we know anything about this individual?”

  “Irene Angela Harwin, age 23. Residence, Denver, CO. Works at the University Hospital there as a Registered Nurse. No established contact or connection with the client before this event except for the use of airline mileage credits to book tickets for Ms. Harwin in the aftermath of the accident we talked about yesterday.”

  The officer continued pointing to a map of the resort marked with the locations of the pavilion where the wedding reception was held and the walkway where Ethan and Irene were last seen.

  “This is not good, team! This is a clusterfuck! Has he activated the SLR?” Rob asked showing all the appropriate anger about the risks Ethan had taken by going into hostile territory with no backup or a clear plan of action.

  The System of Last Resort (SLR) was a clandestine tagging and tracking technology developed for the military that wasn’t yet available for commercial use. A highly sophisticated and miniature device is embedded in an inert capsule and implanted in the body, usually on the thighs or buttocks. When activated, the device emits distress signal to a network of satellites with more precise global positioning capability than customarily used in commercial GPSs.

  For precisely the high sensitivity and classified nature of the system, it is neither publicized nor routinely used. It is programmed to be auto activated when signals are lost from the electronic device with regular GPS capability or the individual triggers it following a strict sequence of non-random movements that are intended to track blood oxygen, carbon-dioxide, adrenaline, and cortisol levels.

  “We were getting intermittent signals until radio silence. Initially, all movements were limited to inside the compound, on the borderline of communication range between client’s phone and the system. Client assured us there was nothing to worry about on one occasion and promised to engage us if the need arises.”

  “Of course, he would say that. It is not his job to worry. It’s your fucking job to worry about him and make sure everything is in order.”

  Rob was belligerent. What he was hearing was terrible all around. No clear proof of safety other than the loose connection to someone Ethan hadn’t been seen with be
fore. Then, there was the issue of not instinctively activating protective measures when the SLR had kicked in.

  “When was the last signal received?”

  “19:45, the reception had been intermittent up to that point. We believe the poor signal coverage in the area contributed to the problem. The device could also have been tampered with. Trainees are advised to protect the area of implantation. In a kidnapping scenario, the client’s hands are likely tied, and there could have been physical damage as well.”

  “When is the extraction team arriving on the ground?”

  “They will be there in less than three hours, sir. Here is a detailed plan of action,” the officer passed a folder forward on the table identifying suspect hideout locations.

  “Has there ever been kidnapping from this location?”

  “Not to our knowledge, sir. The government has good control of the area to protect the tourism business. The resort is 9.7 miles from the airport.”

  “Hard to believe an impromptu attack plan can be devised on short notice. Do you suspect there is inside knowledge? How many people know of client’s itinerary?”

  “Three. The travel agent, assistant, and us, sir.”

  “This must be an inside job. I don’t understand why these clients don’t let me do my job!”

  Rob was angrier for not having insisted on an accompanying bodyguard when he learned about the trip. He could appreciate Ethan’s concern about optics, but who gives a fuck about optics when safety is compromised?

  “I want a thorough screening of all wedding attendants. Are we giving up on SLR?”

  “Unless the client performs a heroic feat, it will be difficult to activate it if there was already no response from the distress of assault and transportation phases.”

  “Didn’t you tell me he was a good trainee? Possible that he was able to control the normal body responses in the interest of maintaining acute situational awareness.”

  “Yes, sir. That is one likely explanation.”

  “Let’s meet when the extraction team lands on the premises. Come and get me if there are new developments.”

  Rob rose from his chair and went to his office. He needed to make sure everything was proceeding as planned. So far so good, he thought. He knew how reckless some of his clients can be in assuming they are omnipotent, and he had a narrow window of success. A lot was riding on this rescue mission, which will be the first for his firm. He needs to get Ethan out alive or else his business will soon be history.

  ∫---∫

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ethan was absolutely sure there hadn’t been five minutes since Roger left. A technique he had been warned against during his training. Every instinct a hostage has leads him to believe the captors would try to exhaust any sort of hope and patience one has. But the trick they use most often was trying to create imbalance and chaos fomenting unpredictability. He remembered that last sentence. Roger said he would wait five minutes before he left. Now he was back in less than two minutes.

  The two minutes didn’t leave much time to think through options. He had been trying to trigger the device implanted in his body for many hours now. He couldn’t be sure if he was located or not. He had been promised no more than 12 hours extraction response anywhere in the world. He couldn’t also be sure if it had been that long already.

  Ethan had tried to will himself be panicked, hold his breath, and otherwise strain his body, even while still tied to the chair. All in the hope of increasing his blood carbon dioxide and adrenaline level. Whether it was his training or his own natural instinct to be calm under duress, he had no hope of kicking his cortisol level high enough for reliable detection.

  The one thing that worried him most was the kick to his gut and right thigh when he first arrived at this location. He knew there was a chance the device inside him might have been damaged from that incident.

  The only way he could increase his chances was if he were allowed the use of his hands. He could apply targeted pressure to the implanted area to enhance sensitivity. He worried that won’t happen soon enough to save his life.

  None of those considerations were now relevant as Roger sat next to him with a cup of water. He stretched out his hand and presented the red party plastic cup to Ethan’s lips, which were sore from the impact. He now felt a cut on the top lip as he tried to drink the water.

  Ethan was tempted to refuse for fear he might be poisoned. But he knew the psychology behind what Roger was doing. The man was trying to ingratiate himself with him; the good old good cop bad cop strategy to soften a target. He drank the water with overly expressed zeal and said, “Thank you!”

  “Well, where were we?”

  “Pricing,” Ethan said.

  “Yep, that’s right. You are gonna tell me what Irene is worth to you.”

  “As I mentioned, I want to be absolutely honest with you. You have been more than considerate with me. You probably expect me to say nothing and deny any feeling for her. The truth of the matter is, I do care about her.” Ethan said feeling energized. “I am here on her invitation to attend a wedding. Look, I am happy to pay anything to let her go. There is a large contingent of wedding attendees who I am sure by now are nervous and may start raising alarm about this situation.”

  “Price!” Roger smacked him in the face again. This time his fingers struck the cut on his lips. Acuter and more piercing pain than before.

  “At least one hundred thousand. I am being totally honest with you. I have resources I can arrange to be delivered to you quickly. We don’t want to complicate this situation further. I am sure the authorities are concerned as well… I want to work with you on this… Please, I mean that sincerely.”

  “Let’s forget about the authorities. Let me worry about them. So, one hundred thousand, huh?”

  “Yes, at least that…”

  “That’s nothing for someone of your stature. Which means you don’t care if something happens to her.”

  “Not at all. I sincerely want to work with you. Why don’t you let her go, and you and I can work out a deal? If they see her, my business associates will know they have something to work with…”

  Ethan was trying his best to find an angle he can exploit. His problem was he wasn’t dealing with a novice negotiator.

  “They will know I mean business when I send them your fucking fingers one stub at a time.”

  “What do you suggest then? Tell me. I am more than willing to hear.”

  “Here’s the deal. I want fifty million in cash. Another fifty million in company stocks. How does that sound?”

  If there was any doubt in Ethan’s mind about Roger’s seriousness, this was an absolute nail in the coffin. All his training had indicated these kinds of rogue, and hostile elements usually ask for money or physical assets. Not Roger, and that wasn’t a good sign.

  Why would the man want stocks? That would require a series of legal transactions that could easily leave a trace. What was the upside on this? How could Roger possibly know about his companies? The answer to the questions was this was a serious and well thought out kidnapping operation.

  “I want in on the IPO,” Roger said, relieving of Ethan of the mystery.

  If the example of Facebook and Google IPOs were any indication, Ethan’s company, Sky Technology Works, stands to benefit a staggering amount of early interest in the company. Lots of wealthy individual and institutional investors have been vacuuming all available shared in the private market.

  The audacious request for shares and mention of the IPO were immediate red flags about Roger. These pieces of information meant that this was a man connected to the inner workings of Silicon Valley, motivated as much by controlling a piece of the latest big thing as money alone. The question was, how was Ethan going to be able to convince the man to let him go without giving up a huge portion of his assets?

  “Sure. I am sure we can arrange for that. I’m sure you would expect me to negotiate with you on the terms.”

  It was a
terrible idea to appeal to the better angel of Roger. All the last statement had gotten him was repeated assault on his body. One blow more painful than the last. The man had neither the interest nor the patience to negotiate with him.

  The blows to his body continued unabated. His breathing halted as he nursed the pain. His chair flipped to the side and collapsed taking his body and slamming it to the muddy floor. Ethan’s head recoiled from the collision before it bobbled and settled leaning against his shoulder. He was sure a few bones were broken in his body from the collision. Before he could think of anything worthwhile to say, Roger stormed out of the room.

  From the slanted position, Ethan’s eyes filled with tears, mouth overflowing with metallic taste, he looked on in a blurry vision. His body was failing him. He was about to learn the meaning of losing consciousness.

  The numbness in his body and the constant ringing in his ear reminded him of a flat-lining heart rate monitor. He hoped he wasn’t too weak to die for this. He couldn’t die. He had so much to live for. As his focus vacillated between the flickering kerosene lamp and the condition of his immeasurable pain, the memory of Irene laughing flooded him. Right there, on the beach, as they held together and danced. How carefree and effortlessly beautiful she looked... How she didn’t take herself seriously…

  It all came to him as if replayed in the wide screens of his closed eyes. Full of color and vivacity and zest for life. He couldn’t lose let alone die, he told himself, for he wanted to have more of those moments. Irene Angela Harwin was now worth more than anything money could buy. A rare find worth everything he had.

  Before Ethan was lost in his thought, he heard Roger walk back inside the room and say, “By the way, your friend wants to tell you she is sorry and she will see you soon.” This was followed by an odious laughter as if to underscore the seeming naiveté of the statement.