Chpt. 35 CPOV:
"Tell me what we know," I demand walking into Escala.
Sawyer, Gail, Barney, Welsh and a bunch of new security team members that I've never met are all in the security office of Escala when Taylor and I arrive back. The flight seemed to take forever to get back to Escala but I know we made good time when I check my phone as soon as we land. I have been trying to reach Ana on her cell phone since we left but it keeps going to voice mail.
"The power was cut to the apartment at approximately 4:52 this evening, approximately ten minutes after Gail and I left to go to the market. The backup generator kicked in at 4:58 however by that point the apartment was empty," Sawyer explains.
"Are you telling me that it took someone six minutes to get Ana out of the apartment?" I ask surprised.
"Yes sir," Sawyer says.
"How did he get up here?" Taylor asks.
"It appears he took the service elevator," Barney says bringing footage to the screen in front of us. "We can see him here entering the elevator; we assume this is the person however we cannot confirm it since we don't see him getting off the elevator."
"What about when he leaves? How does he leave the building?" I ask.
"We believe this is him….with Ana," Barney answers, bringing a still shot up on the screen.
In the shot, you can barely make out two adults one rather large gentleman and another petite female. The image is somewhat blurry, but the people in the picture have tried to hide their identity quite well. The man is wearing all dark clothes, with a baseball had and hood over his head. He is wearing large sunglasses and has a scarf wrapped around half of his face. His arm is wrapped tightly around the waist of the female next to him who we believe is Ana. It's difficult to know for certainty that it is Ana, but the time stamp on the picture is moments after the backup generator would have kicked on in the apartment. She is dressed in almost matching attire, a large dark colored sweatshirt with a hood and baseball cap covering her face. She is wearing large sunglasses and her hands appear to be bound in front of her. He appears to be holding something against her side, I gulp in fear assuming it's either a knife or a gun.
"Who the fuck is that?" I demand.
"We are running him through facial recognition right now," Welsh explains.
"Is it possible it is Hyde?" I ask knowing it's a stretch.
"We checked sir," Welsh pauses. "He was removed from life support and was declared dead at 10:17 this morning."
"What about Elizabeth? Could she be behind this?" I grasp desperately.
"We don't believe so sir," Welsh says. "As you know she has been under constant surveillance since she was released on bail. We have been monitoring all of her movements, phone calls, emails and visitors; she hasn't left her apartment all day. We confirmed she was in there by having one of our security team members pose as a delivery person for a neighbor. Nothing suspicious appears on her cell phone, house phone, email accounts or bank accounts."
"So we have nothing?" I sigh in realization.
"We will find her sir," Taylor assures me but I can hear the uncertainty in his voice.
"As of right now, nothing is more important than finding Ana. Any project you are currently working on takes a back seat to this. Spare no expense, I don't care who we need to pay off for information or what we need to do you will find Ana!" I scream.
For the next hour, everyone is scrambling over the apartment which has turned into a make shift command center. The local police department arrives to take a statement from me even though they already questioned Sawyer and Gail. They had the nerve to ask me if someone can verify my whereabouts tonight at the time Ana disappeared, as if they were suggesting that I had something to do with it. I nearly punched the officer when he asked that question, if it wasn't for Taylor I would probably be sitting in jail right now. Taylor nearly pushed me out of the room before providing the officer with the information of where we were this evening including the names of several staff members at the university who could vouch for my presence throughout the entire day. As a last ditch effort, we verify with Kate, Elliot, Mia and my parents that none of them have seen or heard from Ana today. Of course this raises red flags and we have no choice but to tell them that we don't know where Ana is at this point. Kate tries to insist she needs to be here but thankfully Elliot is able to convince her that there's nothing she can do from here and that she should stay at home incase Ana tries to reach her there.
"Welsh, I received a text message from a blocked number," I announce as I look at my phone.
"Give me your phone, we can view the message through the computer to insure it doesn't install a virus onto your phone," Barney says.
I reluctantly comply and hand my phone over to Barney; I would much rather just hit the read button on the phone incase this has something to do with Ana but I know that Barney has a point and he is the best at what he does. A couple of minutes later, he has run a virus scan and announces that I can open the message.
I click the button that Barney tells me to as he steps away, clearly not wanting to invade my privacy if this isn't related to Ana. Personally I could care less, there's nothing else that matters right now than finding Ana.
"FUCK!" I scream as I sit back in the chair.
On the screen before me is a distorted picture, but one that clearly shows Ana attached to a large wooden X in some dark room. Her back is to the camera but I can tell it's Ana, there is no mistaken it is her. The bastard has nearly stripped her of her clothing, leaving her only in a bra and panties before he tied her with rope to this cross. When I see what appear to be lashes across her back, I feel so sick with disgust that I literally lose my dinner in the garbage can nearby.
"Sir, there is another message," Barney says.
If you ever want to see your girlfriend again, I want 10 million dollars and access to a private jet. I will be in touch with further instructions. Do not involve the police or she will die.
"Welsh, get the money…call whoever you need to, just get the fucking money," I demand.
"Yes sir," he says picking up the phone no doubt to wake up the president of the bank where we do all of our business at.
I'm passing the room, waiting for the next text message from whomever this is who has Ana. I'm silently begging them to stop hurting Ana and to not hurt our baby. Over the last couple of weeks it finally felt like our lives were settling down; we had become so much closer emotionally since Ana became pregnant than we ever have. We started talking about our plans for a nursery; Ana chose a guest room next to the master bedroom that she likes for the nursery so I have arranged for Elliot to do a little work on the room before we start decorating it for the baby. Our time both in and out of the playroom has been just as amazing as it always is. As I recall our last time in the playroom, I find myself standing in the room remembering that night fondly. I walk over to the chest of drawers and pull out the picture of Ana I took that night; she initially tensed up when she heard the click of the camera but the next day I showed her the picture and explained that the only camera in this room is a polaroid therefore there is no chance of anyone else seeing her naked. The picture shows her breasts beautifully bond with a red silk ribbon, pushing them up just slightly so that with her hands behind her back they are on full display. I walk around the room further, thinking of all the times we have been in here, remembering all the different toys and equipment we have used in the short time we have been together. After a few minutes of wondering around the room, I find myself staring at the cross against far wall in the room. Instantly I see the picture of Ana that this bastard sent me; of her back full of lashes as she is tied to a similar cross god only knows where. I immediately try to pull the cross of the wall but of course I can't, it's bolted on too tightly. I pull all the belts, whips and paddles off the wall, throwing them against the cross forcefully. After seeing that image of Ana, I could never use any of these things on her beautiful body again. Every time I see a belt, I won't be able to shake the image of the lashes from Ana's back.
"Sir?" Taylor quietly enters the playroom, likely alarmed at the loud noise.
"I want this room dismantled as soon as we find Ana," I say firmly.
"Sir?" he asks.
"I want it all gone," I repeat.
"Yes sir," he replies.
"Why hasn't he contacted me again? What does he want?" I fall to the floor as it all becomes too much.
"I don't know sir but I promise you we will find him and we will bring Ana home," he vows.
"What did she ever do to deserve this? Why would someone want to hurt her?" I question.
"She didn't do anything sir. He is a fucking psycho; there is something seriously wrong with him if he thinks he can get away with this," Taylor says.
"You have to find her Taylor," I sob. "I love her….I can't lose her….them. They are my life, please…"
"We will sir," Taylor confirms. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"
"I can't possibly sleep! What if he calls? What if he texts me? What if she tries to reach out to me?" I question.
"Sir, just lay down for a few minutes. I will keep your phone with me at all times, if he contacts you I will wake you," Taylor says.
"I'll lay down, but I know I won't be able to sleep," I reluctantly agree.
Taylor helps me to my feet before heading downstairs as I head to our bedroom. As soon as I open the door, I smell Ana. Her sweet scent is everywhere in this room, it overwhelms me the moment I walk in. I lay in our bed, the one that we shared less than 24 hours ago and hold her pillow close to me deeply breathing in the scent of her shampoo. I sob into the pillow, completely losing the ability to control my emotions anymore. I can't lose her, she is absolutely everything I have ever wanted even though I had no idea it was what I wanted. I never thought I would be settling down with a woman, that I would be living with someone I love or that I would be expecting a child. I never saw myself as the husband or even father type. However, the last few weeks I have realized that I can't picture my life without her. When we were standing in the guest room last week talking about turning it into a nursery, I could see myself holding a baby in my arms which surprised the hell out of me. Since then, I've been thinking of all the ways our lives will change once the baby gets here, and I'm looking forward to every one of those changes. I could care less what my father thinks, the only thing that matters to me is Ana and the baby.
I must have fallen asleep because when I wake and look at the clock I see that it is nearly three in the morning. I take a fast shower, change my clothes and make my way downstairs to the security office which is still buzzing with activity.
"What's the update?" I ask.
"The facial recognition is still being ran against the footage from the service entrance and parking garages. We don't have any leads on who took Ana yet," Taylor explains.
"Where are Barney and Welsh?" I ask.
"They are in the guest room catching a few hours of sleep," he answers. "Welsh spoke with the owner of the bank, the ten million dollars was securely delivered here about an hour ago. We have it locked in the safe in your office until we have further instructions."
"My phone?" I ask.
"Nothing sir," he says handing it back to me.
"Mr. Grey, here's some coffee and a light sandwich," Gail hands me a plate and cup. "I thought you might be hungry."
"Thank you Gail," I smile sadly. "You should get some sleep too."
"I slept for a couple of hours Mr. Grey, I'm here for whatever you need until Ana is found," Gail says.
"Thank you, I appreciate the both of you and everything you are doing to find Ana," I tell Gail and Taylor.
Hours pass by slowly, I can't stand not being able to do anything. We cannot trace the phone that sent me the message; according to Barney it is an older style cell phone that does not have GPS capability. He says these are often sold as disposable cell phones which cannot be traced to a specific person. Facial recognition has not resulted in any hits; the quality of the photo is too poor. Welsh has sent the video footage to a friend he has who works at the FBI to see if he can clean it up at all so we can get a clue as to who took Ana. We have combed through her email accounts, both person and work, nothing stands out. We called her assistant, Stacy, as soon as the sun rose to see if anything had happened at work the day before but Stacy reported her meetings had gone as expected and that Ana left in good spirits. We found Ana's cell phone, crushed in just next to the service elevator in the parking lot.
Ding
My phone alerts me to a new text message, my heart drops imagining what it can be. I know I need to get the phone to Barney so we can screen for any viruses and find out what the sick bastard has sent us now. In the back of my head though I think as long as I don't open the message, nothing has changed. What if something has happened to Ana? What if he has hurt her? What if something happened to the baby? I could care less if the fucker wants more money, I would empty my bank account and liquidate all my assets if it meant getting Ana back safely.
"Barney," I hand him my phone without saying a word.
Barney sees the notification and immediately goes to work. Just like last time, within seconds the message is cleared as to not having a virus and he instructs me to open the message. I take a deep breath before clicking the button on the computer; instead of a still shot this message is a video. I feel the blood drain from my face the moment the video starts playing; I fall into the chair that is thankfully behind me.
From the video:
Ana is literally hanging from the large wooden X that looks like it is propped against a wall. Exhaustion and pain must be taking over, because her body looks completely lifeless. For the first few minutes of the video there is no movement, no sound; I can barely see Ana's back rising and falling as she breaths. She is in the exact position she was from the still shot; her body literally hanging from the rope that binds her wrists to the end of the cross.
"Are you ready to submit to me?" Says a deep voice from beyond the camera view.
"Never!" Ana says strongly despite the obvious exhaustion.
He positions himself closer to Ana, but still away from the camera, preventing us from identifying him; seconds later a riding crop lands harshly on Ana's back. Her body jolts against the cross, but she doesn't make a sound. I can't see her face from the angle of the camera, but I can only imagine how much pain she is in right now. The cross itself looks like it's made from rough wood; you can see cracks and splinters in the wood even from this distance. The beating continues for some time; I close my eyes not wanting to watch what is happening to her.
"Grey…instructions for the money drop off will be sent through a text in the next couple of hours. Come alone – do not notify the police of she dies," the voice says before the video cuts off.
Silence fills the room, once again we are stuck waiting, being forced to play his little game if I have any hope to see Ana again. Gail brings in fresh coffee, juices, an assortment of Danishes and fruit for everyone just as the video has ended. I'm thankful that she didn't see it; it's going to be hard enough for anyone in this room to get the image of Ana's broken, bleeding, tortured body out of their heads.
"It has to be someone who is involved in or at least familiar with the BDSM lifestyle," I announce. "He referred to her submitting to him."
"Okay, that gives us something to start with," Welsh says.
Taylor and Gail are the only ones who knew about my involvement in the lifestyle prior to today; but right now I could care less who knows about the type of sex I have as long as it means I can get to Ana before the fucker hurts her even more than he already has.
"Why wouldn't he just force her to submit?" Barney asks quietly.
"The BDSM lifestyle requires consent of both parties to engage in a scene," I explain. "If she does not consent to be involved in a scene, the dominant cannot force her into one."
"But he can kidnap her," Barney mumbles.
"It must be part of his sick fantasy," I speculate. "He likely believes that if she agrees to submit to him that she will have then chosen him over me. That she would then be his sub."
"So we need to look at people in the area who might be involved in the lifestyle," Welsh says.
"That is going to be easier said than done," Taylor explains. "Any reputable BDSM will not release their member list. Privacy is highly guarded in this lifestyle, as I'm sure you understand-"
"Fuck! I know who it is!" I exclaim as realization hits me.