Author's Note: This is my first JQ story. It's been kind of a while since I saw the show, but it was great when it was still on the air so please forgive me for any inaccuracies. I'll try my best to keep the info accurate and everyone somewhat in character. This story takes place several years into the future when everyone is much older. Don't own JQ.
Missing
Bogotà, Colombia
"Rachel, wake up sleepy-head; it's almost time for school." The tall red-head walked quietly into her three year old daughter's room and sat quietly on the edge of her bed. She shook her gently.
"Rachel?" The little girl opened her eyes weakly and smiled at her mother.
"Five more minutes, mommy." She said before turning over to continue sleeping.
"Uh-huh, not this time, honey. You're not getting five extra minutes from me." She bent down and began tickling her daughter. The little girl squealed in delight and curled up into a ball as she tried to avoid her mother's invasive fingers.
"Ok, mommy, I'll wake up, I'll wake up." She managed to get out between laughter.
"I thought you would." Rachel climbed out of bed, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
"Do I have to brush my teeth?"
"Yes, honey, you have to brush your teeth." The girl pouted a little as she took her mother's hand and padded towards her bathroom.
"There have been reports of further fighting between the Colombian army and the FARC. As many as thirty FARC fighters were reportedly killed in the latest offensive by government forces; however we cannot confirm the exact numbers…"
"I wish you would turn that down, honey." He looked over towards his wife and daughter as they descended down the stairs.
"Sorry, I just got a little caught up." He turned the television off and picked up a newspaper on the table.
"Daddy, is the fighting going to stop?" The little girl walked towards her father and sat on his lap.
"I don't know, Rachel. I hope it does." The girl smiled.
"I'm not afraid because I have you and mommy here to protect me."
"Yes, you do sweetie. You are a very lucky little girl." He hugged her tightly.
"Here's your cereal." She handed her daughter a bowl of cereal. The little girl got off her father's lap and sat between them.
"So what's your day looking like?" He asked as he drank his coffee.
"Well, today's a Wednesday so that means I have to make house calls in the village on the outskirts of town. What about you?" He sighed.
"I have a meeting with the President at nine and I have to go to the airfields from one to four to supervise training for the new helicopters."
"Sounds like fun." He shook his head.
"You and I must have different definitions of fun." He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. After emptying the remnants of his coffee cup into the sink, he picked up a set of keys hanging on the wall.
"Here, why don't you take the Jeep today, since you're going to the village?"
"Are you sure? I thought that it was your baby." He chuckled and kissed her on the top of her forehead.
"That would be you, Jess." He checked his watch.
"I better go. I'll see you tonight." He grabbed his daughter and spun her in the air eliciting a few giggles.
"Be a good girl today, Rachel."
"Ok, Daddy." He put her down and kissed his wife quickly on the cheek before leaving.
"Bye, Stephen." She called out after him. She turned towards her daughter.
"We better go, Rachel." She took her hand and they walked towards the garage.
The green Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up in front of St. Anne's Catholic School.
"Ok, honey, have a good day at school. I'll pick you up at three today."
"Ok, mommy, I will."
"I love you." She leaned over towards the back seat and kissed her daughter. Rachel opened the door and slid out from her seat. She walked slowly towards the welcoming arms of a nun. She turned around and waved at her mother before continuing forward. Jessie waved back and after making sure that she was inside the school, drove away.
She carefully maneuvered through the narrow streets and couldn't help but admire the quaintness of the old Bogotá Viejo with its old churches and balconied buildings. It was a stark contrast to the modern section which housed skyscrapers and the headquarters of banks and multinational corporations.
Twenty minutes later, she reached the back roads leading to the small village community outside the city. The roads were unusually quiet today as her Jeep was the only car on the road besides a police car several yards behind.
"Why has that policeman been following me this whole time?" She asked herself. She eased off the gas and pulled over towards the side of the road. The police car followed suit and the officer stepped out of the car and walked towards her SUV.
"Is there a problem, officer?" She asked rolling down the window.
"No, senorita, no problem at all; I just wanted to make sure that you were safe." He replied with an overly charming grin.
"Well, I appreciate your concern, officer, but I travel this same road every Wednesday and I haven't had any problems yet. Now if there's nothing else, I think I'd like to be on my way."
"Of course, senorita. However, I would be careful; there has been much fighting going on and it would be a pity to see a beautiful woman like you fall prey into the wrong hands."
"I'll take your consideration to heart." She rolled up her window and drove off in a huff. He chuckled and took out his radio.
"I've stalled her for a while. Is the barricade set up? Good, she's on her way."
She shook her head in disgust as she sped off. That police officer had some nerve speaking to her in that patronizing, oily tone. The clock on the dashboard now read 11:20 A.M. She was almost half an hour late. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and felt her entire arm tense in frustration.
"I should file a complaint with the police department." She muttered. "Of all the ..."
Before she could finish her sentence she saw two construction workers run onto the street, each holding a road barrier. She slammed on the brakes, causing the SUV to skid forward, narrowly avoiding a collision.
"What the?" She heard a screech as the police car stopped a few feet behind. The two construction workers pulled black-ski masks over their faces and pulled out their handguns.
"Oh my God." She felt her heart skip a beat as she saw them approaching her car. Her heart racing, she turned on the ignition and shifted the gears into full reverse, slamming the SUV into the front of the police car. One of the workers fired his gun twice into the air. At that moment, several men dressed in camouflage and also wearing ski-masks sprang from their positions in the grass and sprinted towards the road. One of the men tore the door open and grabbed her by the wrist. She struggled mightily, but with a grunt, he threw her face-down on the ground. She felt the cold barrel of an automatic rifle behind her head. The other men kept their guns trained on her as well. The police officer chuckled as he got out of the car.
"I told you, senorita, about the dangers that lie on these roads." One of the men grabbed her by the hair and pulled her so that she was on her knees. She stared at them with a terrified expression.
"Please, I'm not a part of this! I'm just a doctor!" Another man walked over and placed two strips of duck tape over her mouth and eyes, muffling her screams. The police officer grabbed her hands and hand-cuffed them behind her back. Two men dragged her by the elbows as they started moving quickly into the woods.
"Wait a minute, where's my share? You promised me five hundred up front." The officer grabbed one of the masked men who did not respond.
"Where's my money?" He bellowed into his face. The masked man reached into his jacket pocket and tossed the officer a wad of cash. The officer smiled as he flipped through the wad.
"It's always a pleasure doing business with you." The masked man simply grunted and walked towards the woods.
It was unnaturally hot in the office. The slow-turning ceiling fans didn't help much as it allowed the hot air to circulate and diffuse making the situation miserable.
He wiped his brow and waved a rolled-up newspaper as a fan. He cleared his throat to get the attention of the secretary who was busy typing.
"Excuse me, I'm Stephen Connors. I have a meeting with the President." She looked up at him and quickly looked back at the monitor. She looked back and gave him a generic smile.
"Yes, Mr. Connors, the President is expecting you. Please follow me." She got up from her seat and walked down the hallway towards a large office at the end of the hall. She knocked gently on the door.
"Mr. President? Mr. Connors is here for his appointment."
"Send him in." She stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. He walked in and closed the door behind him. The president was squinting over some financial reports. He looked up and smiled wearily at Connors.
"Mr. Connors. Please sit down." He pointed towards the seat. He put down the papers he was working and took off his black rimmed glasses. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you." He said, massaging his temples.
"I guess it beats looking at figures."
"It certainly does. Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Connors?"
"Well, sir, I am pleased to report that the Apache helicopters you ordered are ready and waiting at the airfields." The president smiled wryly.
"Wonderful. This adds a whole new dimension to this fight." Connors opened his brief case and took out a large manila folder. He opened it and removed several stapled packets.
"Here are some specs for the helicopters detailing its full capabilities. I also have a balance sheet which I think that you will find to your liking."
"You're making me look at numbers again?"
"Well, Mr. President, Boeing has authorized me to offer you these helicopters at a discount rate. Think of it as the United States and our company's thanks for continuing to fight both terrorism and drugs." The president laughed and took a sip of his coffee.
"You know, Mr. Connors, I would do this even without your government or your company's aid, albeit it would be much more difficult." He adjusted his glasses before continuing. "I made a promise to the people when I was elected; that I would go after these terrorists and I intend to keep that promise." Their conversation was interrupted when the secretary knocked on the door.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President, but Mr. Connors has a phone call on line 2. It's the American embassy." Connors frowned at the news.
"Thank you, Maria. Please patch it through to my line. Mr. Connors can take his call in here." The woman nodded her head and returned to her desk.
"Probably just something with your passport, a minor incident." He said reassuringly. The phone rang and Connors grabbed it on the first ring.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Connors."
"Yes, this is he."
"My name is Sean Devine; I'm with the American embassy."
"Yes, yes, I know. Is something wrong?"
"Mr. Connors we have reason to believe that your wife was kidnapped early this morning." Connors jaw dropped and his face turned an ashen white. The president leaned in closer to hear their conversation.
"Are, are you sure about this?"
"The Colombian police found an abandoned green SUV on one of the back roads leading away from Bogotá. It appears to have sustained some damage on the back bumpers. They ran a check on the license plate and it matches your wife's." Connors let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"What can we do?"
"I suggest you come over to the embassy right away. It will be better if we meet face to face."
"I understand." Devine offered some brief condolences and hung up. Connors placed the phone back on its base, his hands trembling. The president reached over and gently placed his hand on top of Connor's.
"We will find her Mr. Connors. I promise you that we will not let them get away with this."
The American embassy was housed in a fairly unassuming gray brick building that is sandwiched in the middle of the busy shopping section of the city. The only thing that stood out was the small American flag that is draped over the entrance.
Connors screeched into the parking lot and slammed the door shut on the blue BMW.
"I need to talk to Sean Devine." He managed to exhale after sprinting up the steps of the office. The receptionist was about to reply when the door to the office behind her opened and a well dressed young man who looked like he had just graduated from an Ivy League college stepped out and gave him a grim smile.
"Mr. Connors, I was expecting you. Please, please come into my office." Connors walked in and slumped on the seat. Devine closed the door after him and walked behind his desk.
"Can I get you anything? Some coffee or water?" He shook his head exasperatedly.
"Mr. Devine, I want to get to the point. Is there anything you can do for my wife?" Devine sighed and shook his head sadly.
"Mr. Connors, you've done enough business with our government, especially the DOD to know our policy about negotiating with terrorists."
"But surely there's someone you could call in the State department? What about the various advisers we have in Colombia? Surely, they can do something." Devine shook his head again.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Connors, but there is very little that we can do officially. What we can do is publicly condemn the kidnapping and put pressure on the Colombian government to secure the release."
"That's not going to do a damn thing and you know it." Connors struggled to keep his voice from rising. Devine sighed heavily and took out his business card.
"Why don't you wait until they make contact? They always demand a ransom. Let us know if anything happens." Connors held his head in his hands and gave a defeated sigh.
"All right Devine. I'll call you." He took the card and slunk out of his office; his shoulders slumped and back hunched; the very portrait of a broken man.
The church bells rang three times signaling the end of the school day. The little children held the hands of the nuns as they walked towards the waiting cars of their parents.
He saw Rachel walking out with Sister Margaret, her homeroom teacher. He sighed at the thought of having to explain Jessie's disappearance. He slowly got out of the car and walked towards the little girl who appeared shocked at seeing him.
"Daddy?" He extended his hand towards her and she took it gingerly.
"Hey, babe."
"I thought Mommy was coming to pick me up today." They walked slowly towards the car. He opened the right rear door and helped put on her seatbelt.
"Mommy's going to be a late coming home today, sweetie." He turned the key in the ignition and drove away slowly.
"Where is she?" The little girl asked quietly. He paused before responding.
"She's working. She won't be back until later." Rachel gave him a thoughtful expression.
"Ok."
The car ride home never felt so long.
"Rachel, why don't you go upstairs and play in your room for a while? I'll let you know when dinner's ready."
"Ok, daddy." The little girl ran upstairs. He watched her, marveling at the bliss of childhood innocence. After hearing the door close he walked to his private study. He poured himself a glass of scotch and sat back on his black office chair. He took a big sip and exhaled deeply.
"Mr. Connors?" Miguel, the butler knocked on the door.
"Yes?"
"General Uribe called earlier this afternoon. He said that you had missed the inspection at the airfields and wanted to make sure that everything was all right."
"I'll call him back later, thank you Miguel."
"Of course." He waited until Miguel left before unlocking a side drawer. Inside laid a small manila envelope. He opened it and removed a folded letter. He read it carefully before folding it back up and placing it back in the envelope. He then picked up the phone and made the call he had prayed he would never have to make.