Four.
There were four areas that contained a KFC, a Central Plaza, and a Yaowarat street. Statistically improbable, but apparently, Lady Luck was not on their side. They stared at the online map with four large red circles, each containing the landmarks. And the circles were nowhere near each other. Six never sounded like a larger number. They needed help, someone who knew the lay of the land and the language; it was taking far too long for them three to search up everything online and to interpret the kidnappers' Thai. So Morris and Margaret called their local contacts; most were at work, but two agreed to come in after knowing their urgent situation.
To make a difficult situation impossible, Jeremy exploded with a staggering realization: "We forgot to ask her what type of car she was in."
He then calmly took a red marker, pulled up his shirt sleeve, and wrote a single word across his entire arm– CAR. Then he wrote it again. And again. And again. Then he threw the marker across the room. Morris and Margaret exchanged glances – they had never seen the amiable Jeremy so angry before. With his face buried deep in his hands, Jeremy could be heard mumbling, "Technical advisor...technical advisor? What are you?" Two minutes passed, then five, then ten. The self-abasement continued.
Eventually, Margaret could stand it no more, and put a hand on the sullen man's shoulder, "Jeremy, it's time to move on. Come on, it's time to do your job." Perhaps it was her choice of words, or perhaps it was her timing...whatever it was, it brought Jeremy to his feet, where he uttered a single sentence before walking out of the office: "Maybe I'm not fit to do my job anymore." Their gaze followed him out, then...nowhere. They knew better than to make him stay.
He eventually returned, as wordless as he had left, to the relief of his peers. It did not matter where he went, or that he looked just as sullen as before...all that mattered was that he had chosen to return. Back at his seat, with one sleeve rolled up all the way, he watched over the phone with a look of grim determination.
So, without sufficient information to mobilize the police, they resorted to the suspenseful wait around Morris' desk, waiting for the Thai locals to arrive, waiting for Mya to call.
YOU ARE READING
When Hope Calls: A Human Trafficking Story
Короткий рассказOne phone call. One kidnapped girl. One impossible rescue mission. When the staff of a human rights NGO receive a call from a distraught girl, Mya, claiming she had been kidnapped, they are thrown on a gut-wrenching quest. They don't know who...
