It was December 23rd and I was sitting in one of those god-awful uncomfortable chairs at gate H-18 in Terminal 3 at Chicago's O'Hare International Airport, really angry I was most likely going to have to call my Dad to let him know I wasn't going to make it home to Boston for Christmas. Here I was, stranded, due to some freak blizzard that was continuing to drop an inch of snow an hour in Chicago, Boston and everywhere in between. The storm, according to the meteorologists, had no plans of letting up soon. The roads were so bad I couldn't chance it and rent a car either. Not only was I going to miss Christmas, I was going to miss our annual tradition of Christmas Eve Mass and then having dinner at the restaurant of my choice to celebrate my birthday, which is Christmas Eve. It has been something we have done together every year since my Mom passed away. I was an only child and it crushed me that I wasn't going to make it home. I pulled out my cell phone and called my Dad. I traveled enough for a living, as my Dad did for pleasure since he had retired a few years before, so we both knew the chances of flight's being cancelled during the winter due to weather. He understood and I think he was more concerned about me than he was about spending Christmas alone. "Dad, really. I'll be fine. I promise. I mean there's been so much snow that has come down there is no chance in hell I'll make it back to my apartment anytime soon. There are currently no taxi's, ubers or lyfts servicing Chicago. Someone said that the "L" has been shut down too. This storm is out of control. Good thing I was just bringing a carryon on the plane with me. I can at least freshen up a little later if I can't get home tonight. Not that the thought of staying in the airport overnight excites me in the slightest. I'm only fifteen miles, a mere thirty minutes, from my own bed and I have the feeling I'll be sleeping in the airport tonight. And you should see it Dad. This place is insane right now. There's so many people. The restaurants and bars are absolutely packed. I didn't have a chance to eat since breakfast and it's 6:00pm here so I'm going to see if I can at least get a seat so I can get something to eat. I'm starving." I told him. "Christine, are you sure? I don't like the thought of you at the airport overnight by yourself. If you can get out of there and get home it would make me feel a lot better. Yes, I know you're a smart young woman who can take care of herself but it would definitely make me feel better if I knew you were safe at home." he replied.

After promising to text my Dad in a couple of hours to let him know if I made it home or if I was still stuck in the airport I headed to the Publican Tavern in the terminal hoping I would find a seat at the bar. I somehow lucked out and got the last empty seat at the end of the bar. After ordering a glass of wine I looked at the menu and decided on a burger and fries for dinner. As I sipped on my glass of wine I noticed two gentlemen, seated at a nearby table, who looked a little shady. I was a General Manager of an upscale boutique hotel in downtown Chicago so I tend to notice people who look out of place or like they were up to something. I couldn't put my finger on it but one of them was sweating profusely and the other one kept looking side to side. When the bartender delivered my food I asked if there was a manager who I could speak with. I was definitely not getting a good feeling from these two men and I wanted someone else to be aware of their presence. The manager, a really good-looking guy in his early – mid thirties with brown eyes, brown hair and a growing beard, came over and asked if everything was okay with my food and the service. After telling him my concerns I was surprised he quickly brushed me off by telling me he would check on them and to enjoy my meal. Without approaching their table I watched him walk over to a corner table where a couple sat and he leaned over to talk to them. Whatever, I thought to myself. I wouldn't be hiring him to work at any of the restaurants in my hotel. I decided to double check and see if the El was definitely not running. If it was I would make the hour trip home by public transportation. Before I finished eating I noticed two more people had joined the table the Restaurant Manager had stopped by earlier. I was starting to get a really uncomfortable feeling so I quickly asked for my check and threw down some cash.

I reached the entrance of the restaurant at the same time the as two men. Behind us I heard a gruff voice yell "Chicago PD. Stop right there Ramon. We have you surrounded." Before I knew what was happening the guy with the shifty eyes grabbed me, turned us around to face the voice and put a gun to my head. He said "Nice try Voight, but your mistake was trying to grab me here. I may not be able to get on a flight at the moment, but I do have this cute little thing as my hostage. I know you're not going to make me kill this beautiful white girl now are you?" he said as he backed us out of the restaurant. "You know Voight," he continued "there's just more than me and Rico in the airport today. Who says I don't have guns on you right now? You tell your people to put their guns down while me and red here go for a nice walk and get to know each other a little better" he finished as he kissed my forehead. "You know I can't let you do that, Ramon. We don't want anyone to get hurt here today. Why don't you let her go and you and I can go for a walk together?" the man Ramon referred to as Voight said. "Are you okay, miss? Just stay calm and we'll get you out of here shortly." he finished. I couldn't say a word. I was completely frozen. I kept trying to tell myself in my head I was going to be okay. I refused to die today. Not the day before my thirtieth birthday. Not two days before Christmas. Not until I found someone for my Dad to spend the rest of his life with. I had too much going for me. "I think I'm going to keep red here and take her with me when I leave the country." Ramon said "What do you think Voight? Do you think she'll like living with me in Colombia? I think she will. Tho she is a little too gringo so I'm not sure if she will understand the language. What do you say red? Do you understand Spanish, eres un buen pedazo de culo?" he said licking the side of my neck all the way up my face. I'm still terrified but this guy makes me want to vomit at the same time I kick him in the balls. "Personally, asshole, I always thought my breasts were better than my ass. If you refer to me as a fine piece of ass or touch me with that disgusting smelling mouth of yours forget about them shooting you I'll kick your ass myself. Please shoot him and get him the fuck off of me" I yelled. "Hahahaha! I picked a feisty one. I'm gonna have some fun breaking you baby!" he said as he dragged me further back.

I looked to both sides noticing the section of the terminal we were in had been cleared of all passengers and airport employees. The rest of the customers who had been eating and drinking in the Publican had been escorted out the employee entrance. It was me, Ramon, Rico and a bunch of cops. "Halstead. Do you have a shot?" I heard Voight ask. I couldn't hear the response but saw Voight shake his head to the other three cops next to him. "Ramon, let's talk about this. We don't want anyone to get hurt today. Why don't you let her go and you and I will chat?" "You must think I'm fucking stupid Voight. Let me tell you this. Whatever happens now isn't going to be the end of it. There's more people in the airport and you know the Cartel won't let you push them out of our city." he said, laughing almost taunting the cops. "Please let me go. I don't want any part of this. I have nothing to do with this." I begged crying. He tapped the gun against my forehead again and laughed at me. He whispered in my ear, "I'm almost done with you sweetheart but I'm not letting you go." He then said "Voight, I'm going to kill red here and set off the bomb in the airport unless you do three things for me. The first is you get a plow out there to clear off the runway. I want a Cessna C560 Citation Encore fueled up and attached to the jetway of Gate H-9. I want a clear path out of O'Hare. No cops or military jets anywhere in nearby airspace. I also want a million dollars loaded onto the plane by your very own sniper, Detective Jay Halstead. Lastly, I want Detective Halstead, the one who blew your entire undercover operation, on the plane waiting for me. If all of that happens, and Halstead is unarmed, I'll let red here go after Rico and I have a little fun with her." "Some of that I can do for you Ramon, but it's going to take a little time. I'm also not letting you take Halstead. He wasn't responsible for your sister's death. You know that Ramon. He did not shoot Mariana. She was high on the drugs you gave her when she got into a fight in that bar." "Shut up! Don't you mention my sister's name. Get me what I want Voight or red here dies along with everyone else near the bomb I planted." he yelled. Ramon dragged me back, even further until we were now standing in the doorway of the Admiral's Club. I knew, if he pulled me thru that door I was going to be raped, beaten and killed before the cops met his demands. Dear God, I thought closing my eyes, please get me out of this...please help me...I don't want to die. I didn't realize I had said the words out loud until I heard a new voice say "It's going to be okay. I'm here Ramon. Let the girl go." I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful man with hard green eyes standing ten feet in front of me. "Back up Halstead! Don't come any closer or I will shoot her!" Ramon yelled as he pulled me inside of the Admiral's Lounge. Before he could close the door he yelled "You have one hour to meet my demands and then red's death, Voight, is on you and Halstead!"