Chapter 211: Fishing Lure II: Roman
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Ed asked about my plan to draw out the kidnapper.
"I think I need to be somewhere public. Stan will stay with me and you two can be the lookouts, search for the kidnapper."
"What if he doesn’t try it - or even worse, if he succeeds?" Marcus asked me.
"You have bulletproof vests, don’t you?" I asked. "Yeah, but they’re not 100%."
I looked directly in Marcus’ pupils. "I know. I want Hannah back. I’ll take the risk."
I was willing to do almost anything to find Hannah. In such a short time she had become everything in my world. When I woke up in the morning, I rolled over and smiled at my luck to have found her and, through unconventional circumstances, made her my bride.
Sometimes I had a nightmare that I was single, out at a club, looking to find someone, but no one wanted to dance. I would go from woman to woman, searching for a date. In the dream, I’d start to get depressed, not being able to find a suitable companion. It would give me the feeling that I’d be alone forever. Then I’d wake up in a cold sweat and see Hannah next to me and blow out a long sigh of relief. I had an amazing, beautiful, loving wife.
That recurring dream for some reason really stuck with me - feeling alone and isolated in a sea of gorgeous women. With Hannah, I felt alive; my body zinged from her touch, and her laugh made me feel like a flustered boy.
I needed her to be okay.
"Alright then," Marcus agreed, "but we’re going to take some precautions."
We decided that the best place to make myself visible would be a little park in the city. It had a low building beside it that Ed and Marcus could use as a lookout point. They believed they’d be able to get access to the roof and set up camp there.
While I was slightly nervous, my desire to find Hannah trumped any worried feelings I felt. If putting myself out there helped me find her, I was more than willing.
Ed set me up with an ear piece so he could talk to me during the event, which we dubbed "operation fishing lure."
I would be the lure, the shiny, moving thing that, hopefully, would hook the kidnapper. With the earpiece, Ed could let me know if I was in danger or if he was seeing anything.
Marcus would focus on the parking area, waiting to see if a black dented car showed up. It was an operation where we all played a part from the get-go: Marcus, the fisherman; Ed, the fishing line; me, the bait. The last part of the equation was Stan - the shark. He knew to swim just close enough and pounce if he saw something he didn’t like.
We filled Stan in on the plan, and he felt comfortable enough with the ruse. He also elected to wear a bullet proof vest, just in case.
All in all, I felt confident our plan could work.
While I really didn’t have a reason to go to the park, we all concluded I should look like I was going for a jog. I donned my running gear with the vest underneath my workout hoodie. I didn’t want to involve anyone else in our ruse, being cautious that no one else got hurt.
I looked a little thicker than usual, but was still able to jog. Once Stan was suited up and fitted with an earpiece as well, we were ready to go.
No one had known where we were going before we had left for the club, so I didn’t notify anyone of my plan to go for a run in the city.
Hoping that he kidnapper was just going to follow me from my house or some road that led into the city, I drove with caution, looking in the rear view mirror at all the traffic. I had no idea if the kidnapper had followed me. There was no black car anywhere in my rear view.
When we arrived at the park, I stopped the car and parallel parked near the south entrance. The leaves on the trees, rustled in the gentle wind. Stan had been with me in the passenger seat, and he got out as we headed into the park.
"We’re surveilling the scene," Ed communicated to me.
He and Marcus had taken off ahead of me, heading to the building to man their posts. I didn’t want to look up, so as not to give away their position, and I remembered not to put my hand to my ear.
"Find a spot by a tree and do some stretching. If you stop moving, maybe your stalker will take aim."
I did as he suggested, leaning on the tree, than pressing against it to stretch out my muscles. I made sure to use little movements so I wasn’t completely stationary, making a shot to my head more difficult. Still, I hadn’t even begun jogging, and I was starting to sweat.
Stan stayed nearby. He did his best to look casual, but there was no way he couldn’t look menacing with his muscular frame. With the bulletproof vest on, he looked even bigger.
By that point, I figured the kidnapper knew I had retained Stan as my bodyguard, but that hadn’t stopped him from taking a shot at me in front of the club.
"Start jogging toward the North entrance," said Ed.
I took off in a slow jog, scanning the terrain around me.
Not many people were at the park, even though it was a sunny crisp day. A man played fetch with his dog while a couple relaxed on a blanket in the grassy area. There were two moms walking around the path with strollers and one older gentleman jogging, and that was about it.
Stan stationed himself on one of the park benches near the path that circled the park. Even though he wouldn’t be right beside me, I knew he’d be watching me. Plus, Ed could communicate with him via the earpiece and let him know if he needed to reach me quickly.
Continuing north like Ed suggested, my feet padding along the paved path at a quick clip. While I felt a little exposed, I also reasoned that it was hard to hitting a moving target. If I stayed on my feet and continued to move around, I hoped to be able to draw the kidnapper out and remain unharmed.
On my second lap around through the vivid green grass lawn of the park and the swaying trees, Ed encouraged me to keep going. "We don’t see anything yet. Keep it up. You’re doing great."
I hadn’t been running long, so I still had plenty of energy left. At the same time, I had been hoping someone had managed to get eyes on the kidnapper.
On the fifth lap, I was starting to get tired, frustrated that no one suspicious had turned up.
"Just one more," Ed said, "then I think we should wrap it up."
My legs moved in a methodical rhythm, and my breathing labored as I circled the park bench where Stan sat for the sixth time.
A little past the bench, Marcus called out. "I see a black car. Pulling away from the East side. Roman, turn around go back to the bench and start stretching again."
He and Ed made their way down the staircase to the building and took off toward the car. They sprinted toward the direction of the car, but unfortunately, they lost view of it soon after.
Walking back to the park bench where I waited with Stan, I could tell "operation fishing lure" had failed.
"Did you get anything?" I said.
"We didn’t get a good look, but..." Ed started to say.
"Yeah? And?"
Marcus held up a little slip of paper. "But we did manage to write down the license plate number."
I looked at the little slip of paper in Marcus’ hand like it was some kind of treasure we’d uncovered from the deepest depths of the ocean.
"It’ll only be a matter of time," said Ed. "We can catch him." He smirked.
"So what are you waiting for?" I asked.
"We’ll go back to the office, see what we can find out," said Marcus.
I felt satisfied. The plan had worked, and I was still alive. Ed and Marcus should be able to find out some information, and soon we’d be rescuing Hannah. The winds seemed to be blowing in my favor, and I high-fived each of the guys.
"Let’s go," I said, the adrenaline still pumping from my run - and the risk I had taken. I was high on endorphins from the danger, the exercise, and now the good news about the license plate.
Hannah would be back in my arms in no time.