Impossible Odds

was using a fake name and if he might actually be our NGO’s security manager. Then he identified himself as the assistant to Daniel Hardy, our regional security advisor. I knew Hardy well enough that it would have been consoling to hear his voice. I had no idea why we weren’t speaking to him instead of this stranger, leaving me to wonder if something was wrong on their end as well.
    Finally something happened that was recognizable from the world of sanity. Mohammed announced he had a few security questions to ask me by way of confirming my identity. I knew the office kept questionnaires we all filled out for just such emergencies, containing preset personal questions.
    Mohammed asked me the name of my first dog. I told him it was Sadie and added we got her in Indiana. He liked that answer and asked a second question, then a third. I was only too happy to play the game until he was satisfied, if that was what it took to get a message to Erik and my family assuring them I was unharmed.
    But at that point Jabreel snatched the phone away and began challenging Mohammed himself. He didn’t know Mohammed either, and he sounded suspicious. Jabreel paused and asked me if Mohammed worked for the NGO, so we both lied agreeably and answered, oh, yes, he worked in Nairobi and was a colleague. Even though it wasn’t true, there was no reason not to vouch for him. If Jabreel didn’t know him then he wasn’t on Jabreel’s side, and if he wasn’t on Jabreel’s side we had to consider him on ours.
    There was no more communication than that. What a disappointment. Although I was glad to send a proof-of-life messageback home, even by a circuitous route, I had no explanation for not being able to connect using the phone numbers for Erik or for my dad. What was that about? There was nothing else to cling to but the voice of a man we vouched for but actually didn’t know, who claimed to work for our company. But being in communication with somebody was at least something to cling to. It was a bit more than just another straw to grasp at—maybe something closer to a good-sized stick.
    Throughout the short phone conversation the Chairman stood back with Abdi, staring at us with bleary red eyes. With the call finished, the Chairman barked an order, and we were herded back into the cars and driven back to the Banda place. There they force-walked us back out into the open field and placed us down on the ground again and onto the damp sleeping mat, ending that day the same way the four preceding days had ended, with the waving of a gun barrel and the shouted command, “Sleep!”

CHAPTER TWELVE
    They were several days into Jessica’s kidnapping, and the phone conversations between Matt and Erik were becoming contentious. Erik knew Matt was on their side, but it fell to Matt to be the messenger of misery in keeping Erik’s expectations in line with those of the experts on the Crisis Management Team.
    “Matt, I still feel ashamed for not going in to get her. I think my contacts could track her down, and I know trained men who will go with me! I’m telling you, I think we could locate her.”
    “Erik, I promised you we would put all our resources into this. I’ve kept that promise so far and I’m going to keep it until we have Jess back here with you.”
    “I trust you, Matt, but do you know where she is? I need to know.”
    “I can’t say.”
    “What? Matt  . . .”
    “I can’t tell you, Erik.”
    “What? Why?”
    “She needs you here. We can’t risk having you attempt to go get her yourself.”
    “Wouldn’t you, if you were in my shoes?”
    “I might. Plenty of guys would want to. But if I did, it would bea stupid mistake. I would be letting my feelings get the best of me and cause me to make some macho dash to get her. Even an assault by the best-trained men in the country is full of risks.”
    Erik sat on the edge of his bed and gave a heavy sigh. “All right. All right. I want to do this however it’s best. So—what options do we have?”
    “There are three conditions that have to be met before we can go in for Jess: one, if we believe her to be in immediate lethal danger; two, if her health fails; and three, if negotiations have completely stalled.”
    “Okay, but since you convinced me about the risks of an assault I don’t want anybody authorizing a raid without telling me, you understand? She’s my wife, Matt. And if there’s just one guy with a gun to her head when your men get there, it won’t