Ben felt his heart beat hard and fast in his chest, the sound of it thundering in his ears as he sat quietly in the backseat of the SUV. His captors had tied his hands and pulled a ski mask over his head backwards. The doors were child locked as well as the windows. The boy knew because he'd tried them both. None of the captors spoke, not to Ben nor to each other. It was unsettling sitting in near darkness and silence. His mind rushed, trying to think of a way to leave a trail for Fraser and Maggie to follow. Nothing seemed to be at hand. Ben felt much younger than his fourteen years as he rode. He missed his mother, Aunt Maggie, and even Fraser a little. The boy knew, somehow, that both mounties were looking for him and in the end everything would be alright.
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"Alright there fellas, this is top priority." Ray spoke, quickly briefing the group of investigators gathered around him outside Chicago Ice. Dressed in jeans and a Chicago Bulls t-shirt beneath a long sleeve denim shirt. Mr. Crook had made coffee and, because gratuities were against the regulations, charged the investigators fifty cents per generous cup. Fraser and Maggie stood around the new lieutenant as he directed traffic and resources from behind the ice rink. Blue lights swirled and uniformed cops wandered around the perimeter, most drinking coffee, and all of them on their toes.
"What's your take on this, Fraser, could the boy have run away for any reason?" It was the first question that Ray would have asked any parent. When he heard those words come out of his mouth they sounded wrong. Ray gritted his teeth as he waited for Fraser to reply.
"No, we had just finished playing hockey, and getting ready to have lunch in the dining area." Maggie answered, worry evident in her voice. She felt as though she knew Ben better than anyone around to speak for him.
"Ben didn't run, Ray, three men in a large, American SUV were waiting for him, they had one man on this side of that window," The mountie pointed with his hat to the frosted glass still hanging open several feet away. "The second one who climbed out was lighter, probably five foot seven, one hundred and fifty pounds, a woman possibly, but the other two were proximately my size, most likely armed." Fraser's keen eyes studied the tire tracks from a distance as two of the forensics team poured a fine, cement like mixture into a mold set across the tire tracks. With any luck they would be able to identify what specific type of vehicle had been waiting on the kidnappers.
"Do you know of any reason anyone would have to take Ben?" Again, Ray hated the words coming out of his mouth, but he had to ask.
"I'm not certain just now, Ray." Maggie heard her half-brother keep something from his best friend and wondered at it. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from blurting out the truth. Looking at Ray, Maggie knew the police lieutenant hadn't bought it, but he wasn't about to press his best friend for more details.
"Alright, well, Det. Midkiff is taking Mr. Crook's statement right now, I've got uniforms checking for other eye witnesses, you know the drill." The police lieutenant shrugged, knowing Fraser knew procedure probably forwards and backwards.
"Thank you, Ray." Fraser looked up from studying the tracks, his face almost in profile against the gray sky behind him. With a sigh the mountie put his broad brimmed hat back on and turned away from Maggie. Wordlessly, he turned and walked back toward the rink. Diefenbaker trotted behind his human friend. Aurora came to stand beside Maggie who stayed to talk to Ray.
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"Good evening, Ben Metcalf." A deep, authoritative, male voice spoke from out of the darkness. The boy searched the murky room around him for the source of the gravelly voice. He couldn't tell how much time had passed or how many miles the kidnappers had driven. Ben did however know that he was hungry, that breakfast had been a long time ago.
"Who are you?" Ben's voice broke and became shrill.
"That is none of your concern, Ben, what is your business, however, is where the money your mother had hidden from her first heist in Alaska." Ben felt a heavy hand on his head, then the ski mask being pulled off. It didn't make it any easier to see the man questioning him. He still sat in the back of the Ford Explorer's backseat. It sat inside a dark garage that smelled of motor oil, gasoline and dirt.
"I don't know where Mom hidden the money, or if there even is any money." Anger flared in the mountie's son as he sat bound with zip ties around his wrists and ankles.
"Now I just don't believe that to be true, we're still missing over a million dollars, and we want it back, if we don't get it we are prepared to begin chipping away at your burgeoning family, starting with the dogs, or wolves really." The voice took on a sharp edge, as sharp as the hunting knife Ben had stolen.
"You can kill them all and I still wouldn't be able to tell you where the money is, for all I know Mom spent it all." The boy wrung his hands as he spoke, frustrated that he couldn't get away and that people kept asking him about something he knew nothing about.
"Then let me rephrase my question, tell me everything you know about that heist you've ever heard, and do it now." Somehow the edge of the kidnappers' voice grew sharper, more insistent.
"Mom won't talk about it, that's when she met Fraser." Ben shrugged insolently.
"Fraser, as in Benton Fraser, attached to the Canadian Consulate." The sinister tone in the man's voice chilled Ben, it worried him. Fraser wasn't the easiest nut to crack, but the boy sensed he cared about him.
"Yeah, so?" Ben saw the man talking to him lean forward, his features still shrouded in darkness. Light from the Ford's courtesy lights gleaned off the man's head. Tufts of gray and white hair lined the skin toward his crown.
"You've been very helpful, Ben, if things work out you'll be turned loose very soon." The kidnapper leaned back into the darkness. Fear gripped the mountie's son like the zip ties binding him.
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"Victoria Metcalf, you have a phone call." The dull eyed guard spoke slowly, his coffee colored fingers adjusted his belt, the baton and other paraphernalia pulling his pants down around his hips. The curly headed inmate pushed a strand of hair away from her hazel eyes. She'd had a bad feeling all day but couldn't put her finger on the reason why. Victoria waited for the door to slide to her right before stepping out.
"Hello," She waited for a voice to come through from the other end.
"Ms. Metcalf, this is someone who has your son, Ben," She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. From the other end of the line she heard her son's voice, asking "Who are you?"
"What do you want, where's my son?" Victoria demanded, tears beginning to obscure her vision.
"I want the money you stole in Alaska, tell me where it is and your son will be released, unharmed." The male voice sounded nonchalant, as if the weather was changing soon.
"How do I know you won't take the money and kill him anyway?" Victoria's mind raced, examining the situation from every angle.
"Simply put, you don't." His voice was so calm it scared Victoria. It's really scared when the bad guys are scared of other bad guys.
"How are we going to do this, I want my son, you want the money." Her voice was stronger than she felt.
"Tell me where it is, Victoria, and this will all be over, your son will be release and he can get to know his father after all these years." Sarcasm dripped from the cultured voice so far away.
"Fortitude Pass." The two word phrase came out with something akin to weight across the phone. "In order to get it you'll need Benton Fraser, he's the only one who knows how to find it." Tears betrayed the lady bank robbers' feelings as she sat in the gloomy cubicle waiting.
"Very good, Victoria, very good." The self satisfied voice on the other end spoke just before the line went dead. She hung up the black phone and motioned for the guard to take her back to her cell.
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