hell he really was, had blindfolded him. The room he was now in was
small and bare. Water dripped in one corner and the air was thick with
the odor of mold. He sat on a rickety chair across from the one door.
There were no windows. The only light came from a naked overhead bulb.
He could hear someone on the other side of the door. They had taken his
watch, so he had no idea what time it was. His captors brought him food
at very irregular intervals, which made it difficult to ascertain how
much time had passed.
Once, when food was brought to him, Jason had noticed his lap-top
computer and cellular phone resting on a small table just on the other
side of the door. Other than that the outer room was much like the one
he was in. The silver case had been taken from him. There had been
nothing in it, he was now reasonably certain. What was going on was
beginning to become clear to him. Christ, what a sucker! He thought of
his wife and child, and how desperately he wanted to be with them again.
What Sidney must be thinking had happened to him. He could barely
comprehend the emotions she must be feeling right now. If only he had
told her the truth. She would be in a position to help him. He sighed.
But the bottom line was that telling her anything would have put her in
danger. That was something he would never do, not even if it meant
never seeing her again. He wiped the tears from his eyes as the image
of eternal separation fixed itself in his head. He stood up and shook
himself.
He wasn’t dead yet, although the grimness of his captors was far from
reassuring. However, they had made one mistake despite their obvious
care. Jason took off his glasses, placed them on the concrete floor and
carefully scrunched them with his foot. He picked up one jagged piece
of glass, positioned it carefully in his hand, then walked over to the
door and pounded on it.
“Hey, can I get something to drink.?”
“Shut up in there.” The voice sounded annoyed. It wasn’t De-Pazza,
probably the other man.
“Listen, dammit, I’ve got medication to take and I need something to
take it with.”
“Try your own spit.” It was the same man’s voice. Jason could hear a
chuckle.
“The pills are too big,” jason shouted, hoping someone else might hear
him.
“Too bad.”
Jason could hear the pages of a magazine being leisurely turned.
“Great, I won’t take them and I’ll just keel over dead right here. It’s
for high blood pressure and right now mine’s clear through the roof.”
Now Jason could hear a chair scraping the floor, keys jangling.
“Step back from the door.”
Jason did so, but only a short distance. The door swung open. The man
held the keys in one hand, his gun in the other.
“Where are the pills?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“In my hand.”
“Show ’em to me.”
Jason shook his head in disgust. “I don’t believe this.” As he stepped
forward, he opened his hand and held it out. The man glanced at it.
Jason swung his leg up, connected with the man’s hand and sent the gun
flying.
“Shit,” the man yelled. He hurtled toward Jason, who met him with a
perfect uppercut. The jagged glass caught the man right across the
cheek. He howled in pain and staggered back, blood streaming down from
the grisly wound.
The man was large, but his muscle had long since started to turn to fat.
Jason exploded into him like a battering ram, smashing the older man
flat against the wall. They briefly struggled, but the far stronger
Jason was able to hurl the man around until he collided face first with
the cinder-block wall. One more serious head thrust into the wall and
two vicious punches to the man’s kidney’s and he slumped to the cold
floor unconscious.
Jason picked up the gun and ran through the open doorway. With his free
hand he scooped up his laptop and cell phone. Stopping for a moment to