The Piper's Children by Iain Henn

Author:Iain Henn [Henn, Iain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

My father, Clayton Farris, was an assistant director of the FBI at the time of my kidnap. After my rescue, I remembered him telling me how he was in the study of our home in Mount Pleasant, Washington DC when he received the anonymous email. The sender advised him to click on the link in the email if he wanted essential information about his daughter.

She’s not at a friend’s place as you currently believe.

I recalled my father describing how his heart thumped as he watched a video of me in a confined space. He’d listened to my raspy breathing and the fear rose in him.

He’d called his office and put the finest minds in law enforcement to work. In the following hours, they made no progress in tracing the transmission. I could hear my father’s words when he explained the email had been routed and rerouted around the globe like a ball in a digital ping-pong match.

He’d admitted to me that strange thoughts zig-zagged through his mind. He’d always grieved that his late wife, Cordelia, had not been around to see me on stage in school plays, trying out for the junior cheerleaders, achieving distinctions in science and math. But he was glad she wasn’t witnessing this.

He’d told me how the video feed had ended and a dialog box appeared in the center of the screen.

Clayton, I know your people have tried to locate me. Waste of time. But I guess you had to try. Human nature.

He told me how sickened he’d been that this monster was communicating with him by his first name.

I’d asked to see the email, I knew he’d kept it, but he’d said no. I needed to concentrate on recovering from my ordeal, he said. Years later, when I graduated college and began my training at the FBI’s Quantico Academy, I’d pressured Dad to show me that email. I said it would bolster my determination to be the very best agent I could be. I knew my father hadn’t wanted me to follow in his footsteps, I knew he thought I’d never been the same person since the kidnap. And I hadn’t been. He’d relented, though, and showed me the email.

It’s time to act on my request, Clayton. No more playing Mr. Big-Time. Forget that now. Your daughter has ten minutes of air. Act now, and she lives.

I’m prepared to make it a little easier for you to decide. I’ll provide a little countdown so that you know precisely how much time your daughter has left. Your daughter or your career. It’s tough making the big decisions, isn’t it?

Nine minutes now, and counting…

At the same time my father had been reading those words, I had freed my hands. Empowered by my mother’s voice and my mother’s hand, I had pushed on the lid of that box over and over. In a fit of unnatural strength, I’d shifted it enough to create a handhold. I’d pushed and slid it further and further until there was just enough room for me to slip through.

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