"It's been over a week since the teenage son of a Seacouver couple..."

"This poor family was so close to getting their child back only to have him ripped away from them...."

"The whole country has been following the story of the Washington State couple...."

"If you have any information, please call..."

"A ransom of $150,000 was prepared for the boy's safe return..."

"No word yet of the boy's condition..."

"Tessa." Duncan took the remote and put the TV on mute. "You're just driving yourself crazy."

"It's all that is on now. They were talking about us on Good Morning America, this morning. The whole country knows about us." She put her head on his shoulder. "I can't take this. How much longer until they just find his body?"

"Don't think like that. We'll get him back. All we need is for them to tell us what to do next."

They sat holding each other, until the phone rang. Duncan and Tessa jumped to answer, waiting for the cue from the FBI agent with them to tell them they could pick it up. But it wasn't their phone. It was a second line the FBI had set up.

"Mr. MacLeod." The agent handed the phone to Duncan.

"MacLeod," Duncan answered.

"Mr. MacLeod, this is Lieutenant Travett. We just got word from the kidnappers."

"What did they say?" he gestured Tessa to the phone.

"They want half a million dollars in two weeks."

"Half a million?" Tessa repeated.

"That's fine," Duncan said. "We'll get the money and have it ready for them. Did they tell you anything about Richie? Is he okay?"

"We don't know. They didn't say."

"Is there a way we can get in touch with them? We just want to know if he's okay."

"There's nothing we can do along that line. But we'd like for you to come down to the station. We have a few ideas on how to get the boy back a bit sooner."

"We'll be right there."

It took them less than ten minutes to get to the station and be seated in Travett's office.

"How did they get a hold of you?" Duncan asked.

"Here." Travett handed Duncan the letter, in a protective plastic sleeve. Richie's handwriting sloppily covered the page, tilted at an awkward angle.

"half a million on october 28 same time same place no cops"

"There was also a picture."

"Can we see it?"

"You don't want to. He's a little beat up."

"What?" Tessa demanded.

"It looks pretty superficial. Just a bloody nose and some bruises."

"Then why can't we see it?"

"You said you had some ideas to get him back?" Duncan changed the subject.

"We've called a press conference in an hour. We haven't promised them anything, but we think it would be a good idea for you to go on camera. Make a statement."

"What good would that do?"

"We want the kidnappers to see Richie as more than a meal ticket. We need to make him as human as possible. Also, we want a picture of him to put around the city. Just in case anyone saw anything."

"You want to plaster his face all over the city?" Duncan asked. "What good will that do? Why don't you just ask people to report it if they've seen a kid that's been tied up and is being held against his will?"

"It's all about making him human, real. The kidnappers live somewhere in this city. They're going to see the posters."

"We don't have any pictures of him," Tessa said. "He's only lived with us for a month."

"We've led the press to believe that he is your son. We need to come up with something. The last thing we need is these guys to panic when they find out they got the wrong kid."

"So what do we do?" Duncan asked. "We don't have any pictures; we can't change that."

"I could draw him," Tessa suggested. "I'd just need a few minutes to do it."

"Okay." He picked up his phone. "Can I get some sketching materials in here?" He hung up. "It'll be here soon. In the mean time, we need to decide what you're going to tell the press."

Duncan and Tessa stood side by side behind a podium in front of the sea of reporters.

Duncan looked down at the prepared statement in his hands. "My name," he said into the microphone. "is Duncan MacLeod and this is my wife Tessa. Sometime between the hours of eight pm and two am October eleventh our eighteen year old son, Richie, was kidnapped from our home. We got together the original one hundred and fifty thousand dollar ransom and prepared for the drop. Unfortunately, at the time of the drop, we were interrupted by a rookie police officer and they got away with Richie again. We have just gotten word that the ransom has been raised to half a million dollars and we intend on paying every cent of it to get our son back. All we ask of the people who have our son is that they don't hurt him and return him unharmed as was our original agreement."

He put the paper down and turned with Tessa to go back into the station, reporters shouting questions at their retreating back.

Lieutenant Travett took their place at the podium. "We are making copies of a drawing of Richie, sketched by his mother and fliers to put out over the city. If anyone has any information please contact the police. As of right now, we have no suspects in the case and are still looking for clues."

Across town, Mary stared at the TV as the news played a repeat of the press conference from that morning. She got a good look at the grieving mother, who stood silently by her husband.

"Richie MacLeod," she repeated.

"What?" Collin asked, looking up from his paper.

"That's the kid's name. Richie MacLeod."

"Mary, do yourself a favor and don't get attached to this kid. He's just a check ready to be cashed."

"He's a boy."

"And thinking like that is what's going to get us caught."

"Collin, the whole country is talking about this. Do you really think we're going to get away with this?"

"We have two weeks to figure it out."

Duncan put a protective arm around Tessa as they pushed their way though the crowd of reporters that had taken up residence in front of the store.

"Do you have any comments?" one reporter asked.

"Any news about your son?"

"How are you holding up?"

"How much longer until you get your son back?"

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"Are you worried?"

"Any response to the allegations that you were involved?"

Duncan let Tessa in the car, then went around to the driver's side to let himself in.

"I hate those people," Tessa spat, trying to hide her face from the cameras. "How could they think we had any involvement in this?"

"The first place people look is at the parents," Duncan said, maneuvering the car into traffic. "We know we aren't to blame, the cops know and so do Richie and whoever has him."

"Duncan, it's been four days and they haven't contacted anyone."

"I know how long it's been, Tess," Duncan snapped. "I'm just as worried about him as you are."

"I never said you weren't!"

"You sure act like it! Always blabbing on about it!" He pulled into traffic.

"Well, I'm sorry if I can't act as if nothing is wrong!" she yelled.

"I'm not either!" He looked at her.

"The hell you aren't! You sit downstairs working on your paperwork and precious business while he's out there somewhere scared and alone with no one to take care of him!"

"I'm worried, Tessa! I'm scared! And I'm angry! There's nothing I can do for him and I hate that! I'm supposed to take care of him and he's out there somewhere now and I can't help him! I hate that!" he yelled.

"Then why can't you just say that?" she demanded.

"Because I'm trying to be strong for you! Someone has to be calm and rational!"

Someone honked as Duncan started to veer into their lane.

"I can be strong for myself, Duncan MacLeod!" Tessa continued to yell. "I'm not the helpless woman you think I am!"

"I never said you were helpless!"

"You certainly implied it!"

"I did not!"

"Just shut up!"

"You started all this!"

"Duncan!"

"Tessa!"

"Agh! Look out!" Tessa screamed, covering her face with her arms and the car veered off the road.

Mary jumped when there was a knock on their apartment door. She looked out the peep hole and saw two uniformed officers standing in the hall.

"It's the cops!" she whispered urgently to Collin. "What do I do?"

"Go in the back room," he ordered. He waited until she had disappeared to open the door. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Have you seen this boy?" one of the officers asked, handing him a flyer with the drawing of Richie on it.

"Isn't he the kid on the news?" Collin asked.

"Yes. Have you seen him?"

"No. I haven't. Did someone see him around here?"

"Not that we've found. Do us a favor and keep your eye out. If you see anything suspicious, please call the number at the bottom."

"Of course I will."

"Thank you, sir."

"Of course. Good luck finding the kid." He closed the door.

He sat on the couch and dropped the flyer on the coffee table.

"What did they want?" Mary asked coming out from the bedroom.

"Wanted to know if I'd seen the kid."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them he was at your parents' house, wadaya think I told them!"

Mary picked up the flyer and read it.

HAVE YOU SEEN OUR SON?

RICHARD "RICHIE" MACLEOD

5'8", BLONDE HAIR, BLUE EYES,145 lbs.

DATE MISSING : OCTOBER 11, 1992

In the middle of the paper was Tessa's drawing of Richie, his hair a little messy and a cocky grin on his face.

"He has blue eyes," Mary said. "I bet he's really cute without all that tape on his face."

"You don't need to worry what he looks like," Collin snapped. "All you gotta worry about is keeping him quiet for another ten days."

"Maybe we should just take him home," she mumbled. "I mean, his parents are really worried."

"You wanna go back to turning tricks for strange men?" Collin asked.

"No, of course I don't."

"Then the kid stays."