country, Mrs. McDonald, but there is only so much we can do when it comes to kidnapping. The official policy is rigid—negotiating with kidnappers only encourages more kidnappings—and, frankly, although few will admit it, there isn't one person working here who doesn't feel that policy is foolishly out-of-date.
"Sacrificing a half-dozen American citizens is not going stop these people," he went on. "Kidnapping has become a way of life in Colombia. Go down streets in some of the wealthier areas of the city and you can see men holding machine guns, sitting on top of eight-foot walls lined with barbed wire."
Finally, she'd found someone willing to throw away the script. Julia sat down again, responding to his incredible candor with a pent-up sigh. "Thank you, Mr. Erickson. I may not like what you're saying, but it's something I need to hear."
"There are eight million people living in this city.
Almost all of the country's major corporations have their headquarters here. There is great wealth and abject poverty and compelling opportunity for potential redistribution through ransom. Americans aren't the primary target, however. In total, we don't account for even one percent of the three thousand people who are kidnapped in this country every year. That doesn't give us much leverage. What possible difference can we make by refusing to negotiate, when everyone else does? It's not only shortsighted—
it's stupid. And dangerous."
"I'm confused. First you tell me the United States won't let me negotiate, and now you're telling me it's the only way to get Evan back."
He leaned forward, clasping the edge of his desk. "I can't officially help you but there are other things that I can and will do. I've already called the FBI, and they're sending someone who has worked on several kidnapping cases in Colombia. He should be here in a couple days."
"How can the FBI become involved when you can't?"
"They've been allowed to operate in foreign countries since the eighties. And because they're independent of the State Department, they don't work under the same restrictions that we do."
"Those other cases...? How did they turn out?"
He reached for a folder with George Black written on the tab and looked inside."Of the most recent and ongoing cases, one was resolved in a little over six months, another just short of a year. One captive escaped. And one case is ongoing."
None of the victims had died. This was the first time she'd been given something real to cling to; the first clear promise of hope. While the Colombian authorities had been sympathetic and encouraging, they were also strangely wary, telling her that they were convinced Evan's kidnapping was a mistake, that the real target had been a Colombian oil executive on the same plane who'd left the airport in the same kind of car and with a driver wearing a similar uniform.
"The ongoing case—how long has he been held?"
"Actually, it's a woman. She was taken in the middle of the night from an ecotourism.
group camping in the jungle in the Choco province."
"How long?"Julia repeated.
For the first time he appeared uncomfortable. "Three years."
"Oh, my God," she said softly."All that time."And then, past a sudden lump in her throat, she asked, "How do they know she's still alive?"
"A couple of months ago, the family insisted the kidnappers give them proof-of-life evidence or they would cut off the negotiations. It cost them twenty thousand dollars, but they feel it was worth every dime."
"Those poor people. I can't imagine what it must be like for them." But she was beginning to. They undoubtedly lived every day with the same sick fear that lay in the pit of her stomach.
"There isn't anything easy about this, Mrs. McDonald."
"So, are you saying I should just sit and wait for the FBI agent to get here?"
He gave her an understanding smile. "Basically, yes. But I don't think it's advice you will follow. In the meantime, there are some things you need to hear that are