Impossible Odds

chimed in and made it clear to Erik that every word he spoke would count. The slightest misstep could ruin everything, and therefore he didn’t dare indulge in the sort of anger-based response he had used in that prison.
    He would have to make the call alongside their communicator, Mohammed, along with the professional negotiator, with the FBI and CMT members standing in the next room and listening in. Jess would be surrounded by those kidnappers. Still, if they agreed to put her on the line, Erik would actually hear her voice for the first time since this all began. He was cautioned not to express any emotion to the kidnappers, and to remain calm and steady. The CMT’s position was going to be that the Somalis had to advance the negotiations by coming down on their demands.
    Beyond that, the Crisis Management Team was running out of options.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    Jessica:
    The phone rings. Jabreel is there to chaperone, but Abdi and the Colonel are sleeping, and this time Jabreel actually lets me hold the phone myself instead of having him hold it next to my ear. I answer on the first ring, with the speaker off. The line is full of static and the connection is iffy, so I jump right in.
    “This is Jessica,” I begin, holding my breath.
    “Hey! . . . Uh, Jess, it’s Erik.”
    And there it is. Now I get it.
    Right there, in that first moment of hearing Erik’s voice, I suddenly grasp the reason why we were warned in our training that we would probably not be allowed to speak with loved ones if we were ever taken for ransom. The rule always sounded excessive to me. Okay, I thought. I get it now. I do.
    Because I know Erik too well and I can hear, even in those few opening words, his pain and his fear for me. At the same time I know others won’t pick it up because he is so good at self-control under stress. I’d give anything to spare him this razor wire he’s trying to walk, and I’m already glad I pulled my determination together before we started. I can only maintain equilibrium in thismoment by lapsing into my best business mode. We could lose the connection at any second, and we have to get this right.
    “Hi,” I say.
    “Hey—Hey. How are you?” he begins, and somehow manages to communicate all his concern for me in those few words.
    “Okay. Um, we’re okay.”
    People in the background are milling around now, disturbing my concentration. Word must be out that we have a connection. Everybody knows its all about money.
    “Jess, I cannot hear you . . .”
    I hold the phone closer and continue with the business at hand. I’m acutely aware of those parts of me that could easily dissolve into panic and blow this whole thing unless I stay strong. “I need you to verify that Mohammed is the one appointed for negotiation for the family.”
    “I can do that,” Erik instantly replies. He keeps his voice cool. “Mohammed is our family’s communicator, and he is our representative. For both families.”
    “Yeah, don’t say anything about the organization, just say family.”
    “Yes. And it’s just for our families,” he replies right on top of the question.
    “Yes.” I turn to Helper and say, “Can you go get Abdi?” Helper hesitates because Abdi is sleeping off a khat high and nobody wants to be the one to wake him. I know Abdi’s ways so I understand the hesitation. Too bad.
    I raise my voice and look him in the eyes. Doing that is risky, but necessary. This has to work.
    “Go get Abdi!” I say, as if to imply that if he fails, this deal could be ruined. “Can you go get Abdi?” I add, trying to look as if it would be his fault if the deal fails. He still looks as if he wants to sit back down. I point right at him.
    “No, no,” I tell him. “I want Abdi to hear!” He moves away on his mission.
    But Poul snatches the phone away from me. He launches into a speech that comes from a dialogue he and I have shared over the past month, but it was also a conversation I didn’t expect him to have with Erik unless I was prevented from coming to the phone.
    Poul begins in a determined voice. “Um, two things: Jessica has not been touched. She has not been harmed.”
    “Good.” Erik says it quietly. His voice is grim.
    “She is, ah, stronger than you, you may think.”
    It’s nice of Poul to say this, but he hasn’t identified himself. I have to wonder if Erik realizes it’s Poul, through all the distortion.
    Erik says, “I’m very happy to hear that and of course I’m very