Thursday, September 28th
Michael Jakes's home was really more like a cabin, set back in the woods off of a blacktopped road. The main room was large and contained both the living and dining areas. The kitchen was separated from this room by a small island. Two small bedrooms and a bathroom sat off of the main room. Most of the furniture was wooden, inexpensive but practical; a typical bachelor pad.
Jonathan Brady sat staring at the floor, his chin in his hands and elbows on his knees. He had managed to sleep for a few hours, stretched out on Jakes's lumpy couch. Now it was early morning, and he was thinking about what he would say to Victor Pearson.
"Where do you start with someone you haven't seen in almost 15 years? There was so much he wanted to say to his former partner. Too much. He wanted Victor to know how much pain he had caused those around him. The pain had been eating at Brady for almost 15 years now.
"You don't have to tell him. You're going to make him feel it." The call must be business only. Brady glanced at his watch. He would keep Victor hanging for one more hour, then wake up Mike and the kid so they could make the first call.
Vaughn opened his eyes and saw nothing. He blinked several times, but the darkness held. He couldn't see. He tried to reach his hands up to his eyes, but they would not move. Something was holding them behind his back. He couldn't move his legs, either. Vaughn panicked and jerked as hard has he could, trying to free himself, but nothing would move. He rolled too far to the left and fell to the floor, landing painfully on his tied wrists. Vaughn heard rapid footsteps coming towards him and a door opening.
"He's awake," a voice above him chuckled. Then everything came back; the two men, the van, the gunshots. Apparently, it wasn't just a dream.
"Get up," the voice above him commanded. He reached down and untied Vaughn's ankles, then jerked him to his feet. Vaughn's legs felt as if they were made of rubber. They shook and he stumbled, nearly falling down. The muscular man steadied him. Gradually, the circulation returned and he was able to stand.
The man half led, half dragged Vaughn towards their destination. He still felt disoriented, and being blindfolded certainly didn't help. Finally they stopped, and Vaughn heard a door open in front of him. The man shoved him through it and untied the ropes around his wrists. "I'll wait out here, but don't try anything. You've got two minutes."
Vaughn immediately pulled the blindfold off of his face. After being in the dark so long, the light seemed unnaturally bright and harsh. He squinted and blinked until his eyes finally adjusted. He was in a small bathroom. Vaughn looked around for something he could use as a weapon, but there wasn't much. It looked like a typical bachelor's bathroom with only the basics: towel, toothbrush and paste, bar of soap. Toothpaste spots decorated the mirror, and a few wet towels were piled on the floor. His eyes fell on a prescription pill bottle. Michael Jakes.
After he finished, Vaughn washed his hands, wincing as the cold water hit the bands of raw skin on his wrists were the ropes had been. He splashed water on his face and the back of his neck, and scooped up large handfuls of it to drink. His stomach growled loudly in response, reminding him how hungry and thirsty he was.
"Time's up," Jakes called from behind the door. Vaughn complacently put his hands behind his back and leaned against the sink. As Jakes reached for him, Vaughn clenched his fist and swung, moving his body as well as his arm to put more force behind the blow. He felt it solidly connect, but not with his captor's face. He looked up to see his fist stopped by Michael Jakes's large rough hand, which had come up to block his own.
Jakes glared down at him. "Nice try." He jerked Vaughn's arm back down and around behind him, making Vaughn wince. "I'll let it go this time." He quickly retied Vaughn's wrists, tighter this time, it seemed. The blindfold was left behind, seemingly forgotten.
"Why are you doing this?" Vaughn asked as he was led out of the bathroom. "Is this all about money?"
"For me it is," Jakes answered.
"And for the other guy?"
"Brady? For him, its personal," Jakes replied quietly.
Before Vaughn could ask what that meant, they were in the living room. The other man, the one Michael Jakes called Brady, was standing in the middle of the room. The one who killed Ted. He didn't have the muscular build that his partner did, but his penetrating gaze more than made up for it.
Brady looked Vaughn up and down critically, then reached for a cell phone that was lying on the scratched coffee table. A handgun rested next to it. "We're going to make a phone call," he explained to Vaughn. "You keep your mouth shut unless I tell you to say something. Got it?" Vaughn glanced at the gun and nodded in agreement.
The small brass clock quietly chimed seven times. Victor glared, ready to put his fist through it. He had just spent the longest night of his life in alternating periods of pacing around his study and sitting staring at the phone. He had gone through his address book and the records of every Peradyne employee, trying to find anyone who had a motive to kidnap his son.
Frank Miller entered the room with two steaming mugs of coffee. Victor accepted one and nodded his thanks.
"Did you find anything?" Frank asked, motioning to the papers scattered across the desk.
"A lot of things, actually," Victor answered. "People I've fired, people who were involved with the original Peradyne, people who didn't like my…my 'business methods.' But I can't think of anyone who would stoop to this." Victor looked Frank directly in the eye. "I do what I have to do to accomplish my goals, Frank, but I'm not a swindler. I've never cheated anyone."
"I know that, Victor," Frank replied. "But you have to keep in mind that anyone who would do something like this isn't…normal. They may be taking a small incident and blowing it out of proportion. Or it may just be someone who knows you have a lot of money and wants to take advantage of that."
Victor shook his head. "Based on what he said on the phone, it must be someone from the past."
"Do you think he was just trying to throw you off track?" Frank asked.
"I don't know!" Victor snapped, waving his hand and upsetting the coffee mug. Dark brown liquid spread across his desk. "Damn it!" He was frantically trying to save his papers from the free flowing coffee when the phone rang.
Victor froze. The phone rang again. He set the papers on the floor, took a deep breath, and reached for the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hello, Victor." The voice on the line sounded vaguely familiar.
"Who are you? Where's Vaughn?"
"Do you really think I'm going to tell you all that?"
Victor stiffened. "I don't know who you are, but be advised that you are taking on much more than you will be able to handle. If you hurt my son-"
"You'll do what? I'm the one in charge this time, not you. I suggest you stop talking and start listening."
Victor clenched his jaw. "I'm listening," he said with great control.
"Good. You have several things that I want. Now that I have something you want, I propose we make a business deal."
"Tell me what it is you want, and let me speak to Vaughn, and I'll consider it," Victor replied coolly.
"You're not in a position to make demands, Victor!" the voice shouted.
"If you know me as well as you claim, you'll know I don't make blind deals," Victor said. "Now let me talk to my son."
"Fine," the voice said curtly.
On the other end of the line, Brady handed the phone to Jakes, then picked up the gun. He placed the barrel against the side of Vaughn's head. "Say hello to your father," he hissed.
Vaughn's mouth was suddenly too dry to talk. He had never been around guns before. He had never even seen one up close. Now one was touching his head. All he could think about was that the man's finger might slip on the trigger.
Vaughn managed to swallow. His brain finally remembered how to talk.
"Hello," he said softly, wishing his voice didn't sound so shaky.
"Vaughn." Victor felt his breath catch in his throat. "Son, are you OK?"
"I'm OK." He wanted to say so much more, but Jakes was handing the phone back to Brady already. Thankfully, the later was also lowering the gun. Vaughn felt himself relax slightly.
"Satisfied?" Brady asked.
"Not until I get my son back."
"That can be arranged. Listen up. I want two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, cash."
"Kidnapping for money," Victor said. "How cowardly."
In the background, he heard what sounded like a smack. "You hear that?" Brady asked. "That was the sound of your son paying the price for your attitude. Next time he will get more than just a black eye.
"You-" Victor began, then stopped. He gripped the edge of his desk until his knuckles turned white. "What else?" he finally managed.
Brady wondered if Victor could hear him grinning through the phone line. "I want the plans for Peradyne Two. And the power source. I want the floating ball, Victor."
"Floating ball?" thought Vaughn.
For the second time in less than a day, Victor felt almost light-headed with shock. He was silent for a full twenty seconds, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. "I don't know what you're talking about," he finally managed to say.
He heard a another smack, and the sound of someone crying out in pain. Victor felt sick to his stomach as he realized it was Vaughn.
"You better figure it out very soon, for your son's sake!" Brady snarled angrily. "Get the money, the plans, and the ball by 6 tonight. I'll let you know when and where to meet me. Oh, and Victor...if you call the police, I will not only kill your son, I will ruin you. How would you like for the media to hear about your research? Everyone will know what Peradyne Industries really is." There was a click, then the dial tone sounded.
Victor sank into his chair, stunned. Frank Miller looked at him inquisitively. "Well? What did they say? What do they want? Do you know who it is?"
"He knows everything..."Victor mumbled. "It could only be one person...but he couldn't, he wouldn't..."
"Victor, what are you talking about? Who is it?"
Victor finally looked up, as if just then realizing that Frank was still in the room. "What he asked for... only four people know about it, or have ever known about it. Me, Sarah, Kelly Trent, and Jonathan Brady."
"Brady?" Frank looked at him sharply. "Who is that?"
"My old partner," Victor explained. "He helped me start the original Peradyne Labs. We were almost like brothers once. He was a brilliant scientist, and a friend."
"What happened?"
"The explosion," Victor replied, marveling at how the same incident seemed to find new ways to haunt him all the time. "His younger brother Charles was hired as a technician. They were very close. He was killed in the accident. Although he never said it, I think Jonathan always blamed me somehow. Our relationship was never the same after that."
Victor got a far-away look in his eyes. "We both lost a lot that day. We were both in a lot of pain. Things became very strained between us. Jonathan worked with me for another six months or so, then went to another company." Victor looked up at Frank, confused. "Come to think of it, I haven't heard from him since then."
Frank shook his head. "So you're telling me that this guy that you haven't spoken to or seen in fifteen years has suddenly just appeared and kidnapped your son? It doesn't make sense."
"Nothing about this makes much sense," Victor said, standing. "But he knows about Peradyne, and the power source…the only other person who would know those details is Kelly Trent."
"Maybe she is responsible," Frank suggested. "Or maybe she is in on it. She could've hired someone else to do the dirty work."
Victor shook his head. "I know Dr. Trent. Although I don't trust her, I know she wouldn't put my son in danger. She would never do something like this."
"You said this Brady guy would never do something like this either," Frank reminded him gently.
Victor took a clean piece of paper and a pen from his desk and began writing. He handed the notes to Frank.
"This is the info I have about Brady: his full name, date of birth, the city he moved to. I want you to find out everything you can about him."
Frank nodded. "Sure. What are you going to do?"
Victor glanced at the large telescope in the corner of his study. If he lost the power source, he lost everything he had been working for his whole life. Again. "But if I lose Vaughn…"
"I don't know," he finally sighed.
Vaughn's breath came in short gasps as he focused on breathing in and out. The burning pain in his stomach finally began to subside as Brady turned off the cell phone and tossed it back onto the table.
He leaned down to peer at Vaughn's face. "Good job," he said, as if Vaughn was some kind of dog who had just performed a trick. "You might even get something to eat later. I'm going out," he informed Jakes as he stood up straight. "I have some business to attend to. Tie him back up, hands and feet. Make sure he can't go anywhere, and don't leave until I get back. I don't want any stupid mistakes to mess this up."
Jakes complied, and Vaughn was once again left in the dimly lit bedroom alone, wondering what was going to happen to him next. He couldn't help but think that the kidnappers letting him see them and hear their names was a very bad sign.