Jack tried to chase the van down the street, but he knew he wouldn't get
far in his weakened condition. Soon he turned and went back to the house
and immediately woke Edith. She wanted to call the police, but he said no.
Edith gave him a look saying she thought he'd gone a little crazy, but said
nothing. She went to the kitchen and did little things to keep busy while
Jack made his phone calls.
Jack immediately got in touch with the CIA. If anyone could find his daughter, it would be them, and they would be quick about it. His call was immediately taken by a man he knew. He was grateful for this and was put in touch with the person who could help him. He asked for them to do a check on the van. He described it in the best detail he was able, which wasn't very good because it was dark and he hadn't gotten a good look at it. He was also able to give them the first three letters of the license plate number.
Meanwhile, Edith was in the kitchen cleaning up some things, trying to keep her hands busy. She knew if she didn't that she would start to cry or worse, and she didn't want that. After only a few moments, she sat down at the table. She realized she could hear Jack's conversation in the next room.
She tried to tune it out, knowing it was none of her business, but she couldn't help it. Who could he be calling, if not the police? And, it sounded like he knew the people he was talking to. As far as Edith knew, the only people Jack knew well away from home were the people at the airplane company. How could they possibly help him find Sydney? Edith certainly didn't want him to know she'd been listening so she didn't ask about it. She put on some coffee, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep the remainder of the night, and dismissed his conversation from her head.
Jack returned.
"I called the authorities and described the van. They put out a report, but I don't think that will help. I can't for the life of me think who would want Sydney, or why they would want her."
******
When Sydney finally woke up, she recognized nothing in her surroundings. She was indoors, that was about all she knew. It wasn't an empty, abandoned sort of place. It was an apartment, obviously lived in. She was in what was clearly a bedroom. She was alone, for now, and so stayed very quiet so none of those men-- whoever they were-- would know she'd woken up. All she knew was that she wanted her father to come and get her out of this place.
Sydney heard some voices outside of her room and held her breath. Surprisingly, she wasn't tied up. She was simply laying in the bed with the comforter they had taken her in sprawled beside her. She did not panic. She knew her father would find her, and that in just a few hours she would be home. Unfortuantely, things did not turn out as Sydney had hoped.
Those strange men, who never did tell Sydney their names, seemed content to largely ignore her. They seemed to trust she wouldn't try to escape, and spent most of their time on the phone shouting at someone. Sydney hoped that one of them was her father, that having them call the house might help him find her quicker.
The only time they paid her much attention was at mealtimes. They brought her three a day, though she barely at any of it. Sydney was smart enough to realize that if they were making sure she was fed and had somewhere to sleep, they didn't want to kill her. Probably they wanted money, she supposed.
She couldn't think of anything else they could want. Unless it had to do with her father. He did work for a big company doing very important work. Maybe her kidnappers were someone he had dealt with and he had angered. So they'd stolen her to get their revenge on her father. She cried a little at this and fell asleep.
Weeks passed, and her father never came. She knew that he wouldn't leave her here, that he was probably working all day and night to get her back.
She hardly ate and became very thin and very weak. It wasn't until after a month had passed that they took her into a different room, during the night, and began questioning her about a prophecy. She was a very smart child and knew what a prophecy was, but she had never heard of one. She told them she didn't know anything, and they got meaner each time she said it.
Sydney's solution to this was to stop talking. She supposed they'd still get angry and beat her up, but she didn't know why she should bother talking when she didn't have the answers they wanted. She had a very good imagination and considered making up a whole story, and then decided they would easily know she was lying. Sydney no longer talked at all, or ate anything by the end of that month. The one thing she did do was sleep as much as she was allowed.
****
Meanwhile, Jack continued looking for his daughter. He found there were 4000 vans of the same color, year, and model with the same first three license numbers. That was a dead end. He brought in specialists to search the house and street for any clues. Nothing was found. The kidnapper wore gloves and the van made no marks on the road. He was beginning to think it was going to be impossible. He had all this technology at his fingertips and none of it could help him.
Even as he worked so hard to bring Sydney back home, he became more and more convinced it was his fault she'd been taken in the first place. He'd known how dangerous most of the people he dealt with were. Yet he'd never even considered installing a security system on the house, or anything. Now it was too late to do any good.
Worst of all, he feared Sydney would blame him, too. Edith didn't, she only wanted Sydney back home. But he was Sydney's father, it was his job to protect her, and he'd failed. She would be right to blame him as much as he blamed himself. He laid awake nights wondering where on earth she was. After a few weeks, he bagan to grapple with the idea that she may no longer be alive. At first, there had been phone calls, but they were too short to be traced. Now the calls had stopped, which was somehow more frightening than receiving them.
Jack felt so helpless that he wanted to cry, but he never did. He had never cried in his life, not even at Laura's funeral even though it hurt him deeply. He thought about going out to look for her himself, but knew that would be a very stupid thing to do. He knew the CIA wouldn't let him have off for much longer now. He'd already had three weeks off, the rest of his alotted vacation time, and he knew they were going to want him to go on another mission soon.
When another week had gone by, he did get a call from his CIA contact. They were understanding and told him to take off as long as he needed. However, two days later, Sloane called him and wouldn't take no for an answer. Jack was so angry he went to the office to tell Sloane off himself. It crossed his mind that it could damage his reputation there, but right now he didn't care about anyone or anything except Sydney.
"You have to understand, that's my daughter out there! I need to find her. Maybe you would understand better if you had a daughter of your own. What if she was taken? It would be a different story, wouldn't it?" Sloane said nothing.
"I cannot go on this mission. My daughter is more important. You have plenty of others in the company that can go."
"You're the one that has been dealing with these people and getting us the things we want. No one else knows but you, and that is why we need to have you do it. I'm sorry Jack."
"I don't want your apologies, Mr. Sloane. I want time off to find my daughter. I've given you nearly all of my time these last few years. It's bad enough I miss the good parts of her life. Now, when she really needs me, I refuse to turn my back on her. If you won't give me time off graciously, I'll quit."
Jack immediately got in touch with the CIA. If anyone could find his daughter, it would be them, and they would be quick about it. His call was immediately taken by a man he knew. He was grateful for this and was put in touch with the person who could help him. He asked for them to do a check on the van. He described it in the best detail he was able, which wasn't very good because it was dark and he hadn't gotten a good look at it. He was also able to give them the first three letters of the license plate number.
Meanwhile, Edith was in the kitchen cleaning up some things, trying to keep her hands busy. She knew if she didn't that she would start to cry or worse, and she didn't want that. After only a few moments, she sat down at the table. She realized she could hear Jack's conversation in the next room.
She tried to tune it out, knowing it was none of her business, but she couldn't help it. Who could he be calling, if not the police? And, it sounded like he knew the people he was talking to. As far as Edith knew, the only people Jack knew well away from home were the people at the airplane company. How could they possibly help him find Sydney? Edith certainly didn't want him to know she'd been listening so she didn't ask about it. She put on some coffee, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep the remainder of the night, and dismissed his conversation from her head.
Jack returned.
"I called the authorities and described the van. They put out a report, but I don't think that will help. I can't for the life of me think who would want Sydney, or why they would want her."
******
When Sydney finally woke up, she recognized nothing in her surroundings. She was indoors, that was about all she knew. It wasn't an empty, abandoned sort of place. It was an apartment, obviously lived in. She was in what was clearly a bedroom. She was alone, for now, and so stayed very quiet so none of those men-- whoever they were-- would know she'd woken up. All she knew was that she wanted her father to come and get her out of this place.
Sydney heard some voices outside of her room and held her breath. Surprisingly, she wasn't tied up. She was simply laying in the bed with the comforter they had taken her in sprawled beside her. She did not panic. She knew her father would find her, and that in just a few hours she would be home. Unfortuantely, things did not turn out as Sydney had hoped.
Those strange men, who never did tell Sydney their names, seemed content to largely ignore her. They seemed to trust she wouldn't try to escape, and spent most of their time on the phone shouting at someone. Sydney hoped that one of them was her father, that having them call the house might help him find her quicker.
The only time they paid her much attention was at mealtimes. They brought her three a day, though she barely at any of it. Sydney was smart enough to realize that if they were making sure she was fed and had somewhere to sleep, they didn't want to kill her. Probably they wanted money, she supposed.
She couldn't think of anything else they could want. Unless it had to do with her father. He did work for a big company doing very important work. Maybe her kidnappers were someone he had dealt with and he had angered. So they'd stolen her to get their revenge on her father. She cried a little at this and fell asleep.
Weeks passed, and her father never came. She knew that he wouldn't leave her here, that he was probably working all day and night to get her back.
She hardly ate and became very thin and very weak. It wasn't until after a month had passed that they took her into a different room, during the night, and began questioning her about a prophecy. She was a very smart child and knew what a prophecy was, but she had never heard of one. She told them she didn't know anything, and they got meaner each time she said it.
Sydney's solution to this was to stop talking. She supposed they'd still get angry and beat her up, but she didn't know why she should bother talking when she didn't have the answers they wanted. She had a very good imagination and considered making up a whole story, and then decided they would easily know she was lying. Sydney no longer talked at all, or ate anything by the end of that month. The one thing she did do was sleep as much as she was allowed.
****
Meanwhile, Jack continued looking for his daughter. He found there were 4000 vans of the same color, year, and model with the same first three license numbers. That was a dead end. He brought in specialists to search the house and street for any clues. Nothing was found. The kidnapper wore gloves and the van made no marks on the road. He was beginning to think it was going to be impossible. He had all this technology at his fingertips and none of it could help him.
Even as he worked so hard to bring Sydney back home, he became more and more convinced it was his fault she'd been taken in the first place. He'd known how dangerous most of the people he dealt with were. Yet he'd never even considered installing a security system on the house, or anything. Now it was too late to do any good.
Worst of all, he feared Sydney would blame him, too. Edith didn't, she only wanted Sydney back home. But he was Sydney's father, it was his job to protect her, and he'd failed. She would be right to blame him as much as he blamed himself. He laid awake nights wondering where on earth she was. After a few weeks, he bagan to grapple with the idea that she may no longer be alive. At first, there had been phone calls, but they were too short to be traced. Now the calls had stopped, which was somehow more frightening than receiving them.
Jack felt so helpless that he wanted to cry, but he never did. He had never cried in his life, not even at Laura's funeral even though it hurt him deeply. He thought about going out to look for her himself, but knew that would be a very stupid thing to do. He knew the CIA wouldn't let him have off for much longer now. He'd already had three weeks off, the rest of his alotted vacation time, and he knew they were going to want him to go on another mission soon.
When another week had gone by, he did get a call from his CIA contact. They were understanding and told him to take off as long as he needed. However, two days later, Sloane called him and wouldn't take no for an answer. Jack was so angry he went to the office to tell Sloane off himself. It crossed his mind that it could damage his reputation there, but right now he didn't care about anyone or anything except Sydney.
"You have to understand, that's my daughter out there! I need to find her. Maybe you would understand better if you had a daughter of your own. What if she was taken? It would be a different story, wouldn't it?" Sloane said nothing.
"I cannot go on this mission. My daughter is more important. You have plenty of others in the company that can go."
"You're the one that has been dealing with these people and getting us the things we want. No one else knows but you, and that is why we need to have you do it. I'm sorry Jack."
"I don't want your apologies, Mr. Sloane. I want time off to find my daughter. I've given you nearly all of my time these last few years. It's bad enough I miss the good parts of her life. Now, when she really needs me, I refuse to turn my back on her. If you won't give me time off graciously, I'll quit."