"Please let me go!" pleaded the teen, her long black hair soaked with her tears.
"Sorry Miss, but I can't do that." replied a deep male voice from the front of the van. They kept moving for many hours. Perhaps further than she had ever traveled before.
"What are you going to do with me?" she tried, when she didn't think her bladder control could last another second.
"We're almost there. Then it's none of my concern."
About twenty minutes later, the van stopped. Minnie was gagged and blindfolded, then pulled out of the vehicle by strong arms. Once she heard the van door click shut, she fought for all she was worth.
Unfortunately it was useless, there were at least two other men. One grabbed her legs, while her original abductor swung her over his shoulder. A third was standing further back, laughing. This one sounded like a smaller person.
"Find my daughter NOWWWWW!" a large, well tanned man with thick black hair roared into a tiny cell phone. The other end was silent for several seconds. Then there was the sound of a phone obviously being picked up off of a tile floor.
"We are doing everything in our power, Mr. President. You have my word."
Once he heard that confirmation, he hung up without another word. All of the various branches now had their orders. She would be found alive and well.
"Miss Freemont, I trust that you have had ample time to refresh yourself?" asked a thin, middle aged man, not much taller than Minnie. He eyed the empty plate, and half finished glass of orange juice.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. Now that she knew for certain that she had been kidnapped for political reasons, much of her old fire had returned. They weren't going to hurt her, at least not any time soon.
She channeled all of the anger that she had for herself. Sneaking away alone to meet a cute boy, who had just been enrolled into her class, had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.
She stared her captor down. Uncomfortably, he looked at his designer shoes. "Miss Freemont, I have a little request. I need you to read a little script, then you should be able to go home soon."
Curious about what they wanted from her father, she accepted the sheet of paper. The words had been printed on it in bold, large letters.
"Daddy, I'm fine for now. But the men who have me want you to pardon everyone who was arrested because of the Parsingers Day Uprising. As soon as they are free, I'll be on my way home."
She looked him in the eye, and smiled. "I'll read it for you. I just want to go home." she said sweetly, attempting to sound vulnerable and a little scared. It didn't work.
Minnie knew her father. He would never give in. But if she could delay them, while appearing to cooperate, she would give him much needed time to locate her.
"Excellent. Shall we begin?" he asked, pulling out a small camera.
"This is going to be aired all over the world? I'm a wreck!" replied Minnie, going into full teen girl mode.
"You look fine. This isn't a beauty pageant." the man reminded her.
She simply looked at her clothes in disgust, and ran her hands through her hair. This could be a really great stalling tactic, she thought with satisfaction.
Every second counted. The longer it took for her to make the video, the better the chance that she would be found before they realized their demands would never be met.
"You caught the abductor? Was she with him? Is she okay? What did he tell you?"
"We don't know anything yet, Mr. President. She wasn't with him. I called you as soon as he was handcuffed. He's being taken in for interrogation now."
"I'll be there in ten minutes." he replied, hanging up amidst protests on the other end of the line.
Soon one of the most influential men on Earth was standing in front of a large man, whose hands and feet were shackled. The prisoner was also firmly attached to his seat by sturdy chains.
"So you didn't want to talk to the nice agents, Mr. Cailing? Now you get to talk to me."
Six hours later, Mr. Freemont walked out of the interrogation room and gently closed the door. In his pocket was an address for a restaurant in Peachville, Georgia. On the other side of the door, a man sat staring blankly at the ceiling. His neck rested at an odd angle.
Deciding not to take any chances, he discreetly gathered his best investigators as well as one of the top SWAT teams in the nation.
"I love the clothes! But I have this awful cold, and it makes my voice sound stupid!" pouted Minnie.
"Enough! I have given you everything you asked for. We've wasted two days on your little teen makeover! Either you read it NOW, or you will have more to worry about than a cold!" yelled the small man.
This was the first time he had ever raised his voice to her. While far from scary, it gave her the opportunity to act scared. She had known the camera shy act would only work so long. Now she would have to let her father know what the situation was. But she could also appeal to her kidnapper by showing them a frightened child.
"You saw it here first, the heartbreaking plea of a sweet young girl, who is now a political pawn. And this concludes our special report. Please join us at nine, for the latest developments on the Minnie Freemont hostage situation." said an attractive young female reporter, trying to force compassion and concern into her voice.
"How much longer before we land?" asked the President, switching off the large screen television.
"About three minutes, Sir."
He smiled... First he would get his daughter, then they would pay.
Soon, the SWAT team had the restaurant surrounded. In minutes, they had a plainclothes detective posing as a young homeless girl confirm that Minnie was in fact there.
Then things happened fast. The result was five of the men guarding the restaurant were dead, and three injured. The small thin man was found in an improvised saferoom with Minnie. Once she realized what was happening, she overpowered him. When they found the two, she had used her sheets to wrap him up like a mummy.
"Honey! Did they hurt you?"
"No Daddy, but I'm so glad to see you!"
"Load up the survivors on my plane." ordered Mr. Freemont, addressing a sharpshooter. He then hugged his daughter to him, and smiled.
Six months later, Mr. Freemont sat in an observation room. The short, thin man next to him was weeping.
"It was all your doing! You bribed the judge, or there's no way they would have even gotten 25 years! You're a monster!"
"Let's not throw around accusations." he replied, gloating. "But if that were true, wouldn't that mean their deaths are on your head?"
"But every last person from the Parsingers Day Uprising, and my guards? Why! We never harmed a hair on her head. I even bought her new clothes so she wouldn't be embarrassed."
"Because... Nobody crosses me and lives." He whispered into the ear of the man he planned to torment until it ceased to be fun. And wrath was always fun, in Mr Freemont's opinion.
At first it might have seemed good, a father driven by worry expressing his wrath. It helped to drive him to get his daughter back, even if that meant being cruel.
But in the end, when not tempered with mercy and good judgement, wrath is a terrible thing. It can bring one over to the dark side.
Cover image made on Canva, using their gallery