Melissa opened the balcony door and stepped outside. The sky was bright and sunny, but the wind blew cold, and swirled her dark hair around her head, tickling her nose. She shivered, even in her red flannel robe. She was holding a steaming cup of coffee, and sipped it as she leaned over the railing to look at the street below, already busy even in the early morning. It seemed like just another day; she would walk the dog, go to her classes at NYU, come home, change, go to work, come home, study, go to sleep. Little did she know that, down below on East 72nd Street, from the little blue Ford parked near the playground, she was being watched.
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 ÒThere she is,Ó whispered the tall, scruffy blond man who was scrunched in the front seat of the little car. He passed his binoculars to the man next to him. Silently he took them, observed the brown-haired woman on the twelfth floor balcony, and handed them back.
 ÒWhy her?Ó he grunted. The other man shrugged.
 ÒWhy not?Ó he replied. ÒShe has the right connections.Ó
 The brown haired man took the binoculars back. He looked at her a little while longer, then put them down. Then he looked at his companion and nodded, a barely discernible nod, but still a nod. The driver started the car, and they slowly drove away.
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 It was 5:29 am. Todd and Carol Robinson were still tucked in bed, sleeping deeply. Their young children, four year old Danny and nine month old Yolanda, were also asleep in the nursery next door. Little Danny had his own bedroom, but he always tip-toed into the nursery with his sleeping bag in the middle of the night, to curl up on the floor next to YolandaÕs crib and sleep. Todd and Carol were glad for this affection he had for his little sister, and allowed him to keep doing that.
 The clock changed to 5:30, and suddenly the radio flipped on, the announcers voice piercing the silent morning air. ÒGood morning, Fort Wayne!Ó he shouted into her ear. Carol rolled over and fumbled for the button to turn it off. Yawning, she slowly sat up and slipped her robe on over her nightie. She kissed Todd on the cheek. ÒTime to wake up, honey,Ó she whispered. Then she walked carefully down the dark hallway to the bathroom to take her shower.
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 At 6:30 in the morning, New York City police officer John Freeman had already been for his morning jog and taken his shower. He was sitting at the table having his cup of black coffee and skimming through the newspaper.
 ÒHi, Daddy,Ó came the voice of a young girl from the doorway. John looked up.
 ÒGood morning, sweetheart!Ó he said cheerfully. ÒLook at you, youÕre already dressed for school!Ó
 She smiled as she went to the cupboard to get breakfast. She brought a bowl to the table and poured herself a bowl of Corn Flakes.
 ÒI have a history test today,Ó she said.
 ÒDid you study hard?Ó he asked. She smiled.
 ÒI always do, daddy!Ó she said, laughing. He tousled her hair.
 ÒI know, munchkin!Ó he replied. Then they sat together, surrounded by the usual morning sounds of crunching cereal and the pages of his paper being turned.
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 ÒMelissa Bogart. Nineteen years old. A business student at New York University, New York City. After school she walks her dog, a dalmatian. At 4:30 she goes to work on East 74th street for a woman named Deborah Gilbert.Ó
 The man cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. The other men were seated around the small room, in various tough guy positions, studying the photograph of Melissa that he had displayed on the wall. It was a nice picture; she was leaning against a fence of some sort. She was wearing a dark shirt that was flattering to her good figure, and was smiling alluringly at whoever was behind the camera.
 One of the men, a burly looking fellow named Tom, crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward.
 ÒAnd uh, how are you proposing we pull this off?Ó he growled. Alexei, a small and wiry man who was the unlikely ringleader of the group, stood up.
 ÒWell you see,Ó he said in his thick Russian accent, Òthe plan is like this.Ó He leaned over the desk and spoke in a hushed voice, as the other men crowded in around him.
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 Todd got out of his shower at about a quarter past six. He still had 45 minutes before he had to leave for work as the manager of a local department store. He kissed Carol and took the plate of eggs and bacon that she handed him.
 ÒAre the kids awake?Ó he asked.
 ÒYolanda moved around a bit, but she didnÕt actually wake up,Ó she replied. ÒDanny is completely out of it.Ó
 ÒWell he had a long day yesterday,Ó he said. There was silence as Carol sorted through the bills that had come the day before, and Todd ate his breakfast.
 ÒI should be home early today,Ó he said.
 ÒHmm?Ó mumbled Carol. ÒOh, thatÕs nice, honey.Ó
 ÒMaybe we could take the kids to your moms and go out, just you and me.Ó
 ÒMy mom is away,Ó she replied. ÒIn Chicago, remember?Ó
 ÒOh yeah,Ó he said. ÒWell, call the babysitter then.Ó
 ÒAll right,Ó she said. ÒIÕll call her this morning.Ó
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 Melissa glanced at her watch as the elevator rolled on down to the ground floor. It said 8:09 am. She was later than she usually was in the mornings. Impatiently she drummed her fingers on the handrail in the elevator as the door slid open on the sixth floor. A tall blond man with a scruffy beard stepped in and glanced at her. He saw that she had pushed the ground button and leaned back against the wall. She checked her watch again. 8:10.
 ÒRunning late?Ó he asked. She smiled.
 ÒA little.Ó
 He looked at her again, with an expression that made her uncomfortable. She was grateful when the elevator reached the ground floor and she walked towards the street outside. The blond man followed her. Across the street was parked a light blue Ford. The blond man nodded at the Ford, which slowly pulled out of the parking space and followed Melissa at a distance as she hurried down the sidewalk towards the subway station.
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 John Freeman watched his daughter running towards the school building and smiled. Diane had died when their daughter Christina was only three years old, and it was only recently he had noticed that he no longer felt pain whenever he saw a picture of her. In fact, when she had first died, he found it difficult to look at his daughter without seeing Diane smiling back at him. He feared that in those few painful months, he had pushed his little girl away when they should have used that time to grieve together. Oh well, he thought, watching Christina and her girlfriends walking into the school. They were all laughing and trying to talk at once. He smiled, thinking, maybe in the future that she and I have together, I can make up for those few months.
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 ÒPardon me, miss,Ó came a voice with a thick Russian accent. Melissa turned around. She saw a short, good looking man standing on the sidewalk behind her.
 ÒSorry,Ó she said. ÒIÕm already late...Ó
 ÒNo, no!Ó he said. ÒI will only be a minute. Please, if you could just show me this...Ó
 She rolled her eyes, but stepped towards him and looked at the tourist map he was holding.
 ÒYou see,Ó he went on, ÒI am trying to find this address.Ó
 Just then a light blue Ford screeched to a stop in front of them. A burly, athletic looking man with several lewd tattoos stepped out of the alley. ÒGet in the car,Ó he growled. The Russian manÕs expression had changed; he now looked at her with a stoic glare. Acting on her instincts, she dropped her heavy bookbag and began to run up the street as fast as her legs could carry her, screaming at the top of her lungs. But she was soon caught up to by the big guy, who grabbed her shoulders as the Russian thrust a gun against her temple.
 ÒThis is loaded,Ó he whispered hoarsely, Òand I will use it. As long as you do as we say, you wonÕt get hurt. Now get in the car .Ó
 She was trembling, and nodded in agreement. The street was completely silent, and she couldnÕt see anybody. The windows were all dark and empty. She was roughly guided by the big guy back to the car. She climbed into the back seat, next to a spindly blond man with an unshaven face. The Russian threw her bag in after her, then climbed in to sit beside her. The big guy got into the front seat, and the fat, old man who was the driver stared at her. She was still shaking. The big guy nodded at the driver, who silently drove the car away.
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 Carol had such a headache. Yolanda was asleep in her arms, after eating a large meal for such a tiny little girl. Danny had gone next door to the home of his little friend Richard. Until he got home, Carol was going to lie down on the couch and surf channels on the television. It felt so good to get off her feet for a while. Before she knew it she was asleep. The phone was ringing in the bedroom, but she was too deeply asleep to hear it.
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 ÒWhere are you taking me?Ó asked Melissa. She had been blindfolded and was being led down a cold, damp hallway by the Russian. She breathed in sharply and could smell mildew. Wherever she was, it was probably underground and had obviously not been exposed to daylight in a very long time, if ever at all. He didnÕt answer.
 ÒPlease,Ó she sobbed. He jerked her arm hard and she bit her lip, choking back her tears. She felt herself turning through a door. Her blindfold was gently taken off, and she turned slowly to face the Russian. They were alone in a dark room of stone walls and no windows. She felt like she was miles below ground. The air was heavy with mold spores, and she felt thankful that she didnÕt suffer from the allergies that so many people had. She looked meekly into his eyes.
 ÒDonÕt be frightened,Ó he said. She didnÕt answer, but he could see the tears resting in her dark eyes.
 ÒWe wil not hurt you, as long as you do as we say.Ó
 She was afraid to look into his eyes any longer. She quickly turned around and swallowed, concentrating on the lump in her throat rather than the psychopath standing behind her. She froze when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
 ÒCan I get you a cup of water?Ó he asked. She was even more terrified with every passing moment. She felt like she was a mouse that a cat was paying with before it finally killed her and had it over with. Twenty minutes before he was holding a loaded gun to her forehead, and now he was offering her a drink of water. She shook her head, although her mouth was intensely dry. He took a step back.
 ÒAll right then,Ó he muttered. Without another word, he stepped into the hallway and shut the door. She heard the key turn and realized that she was all alone in some kind of underground storage chamber. Running to the door, she turned the handle and banged on the door in vain.
 ÒPlease, somebody, let me out! Help me!Ó she shrieked hysterically. Choking on her sobs and shaking with shock, she sunk to the ground helplessly and curled into a fetal position.
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 It looked like it was going to be a slow day, thought John as he cruised the streets in his patrol car. Oh well, it was a beautiful morning and he might as well roll down the window and enjoy it. It had rained the night before, and the autumn air was crisp and clean. He breathed in deeply, noticing the smell of leaves and cut grass that he didnÕt often get to enjoy in the city.
 He was jolted back to reality by his radio. The dispatchers voice barked at him to report to the scene of a break-in on West 38th street. He turned on his siren and zipped down the surprisingly uncrowded street.
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 When Melissa woke up she panicked for a brief moment, forgetting all that had happened. She felt a bump on her head, and was slowly becoming aware of a throbbing sensation that seemed to be penetrating her brain and pulsating just behind her eyeballs. She was too tired to move, and sat in her corner looking around. All sorts of thoughts wandered through her head. Had they forgotten her? Were they leaving her here to die? How long had she been lying here? Why wasnÕt she in the same place as when she first passed out? As she gathered strength she stood up and looked around her cell. The walls were made of stone, and the floor was cold, unpainted concrete. There was an old desk in the opposite corner as her, and a delapidated stool next to the desk. A pile of blankets had been left close to the heavy metal door. She walked slowly over to the blankets and picked one up, and dropped it again when she realized the strange combination of smells that it was coated in. She leaned against the door.
 ÒPlease, somebody,Ó she called, shocked by the dry raspiness of her voice. ÒPlease, IÕm so scared... just let me out and let me go home. Please!!Ó
 She pounded on the door but got no reply. She really was alone.
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 Todd hung up the phone at his office and frowned. It was the third time that afternoon that he had called home, and had still gotten no reply. He glanced at his watch. 3:34 pm. It wouldnÕt hurt just to pop home for a few minutes and see if everything was okay. He picked up his jacket, scribbled a note to leave on his desk,  and walked down the back hall to the employees door.
 He jumped into his car as he looked around him at the dismal autumn afternoon. It wasnÕt raining, but it had been threatening either rain or possibly an early snow all afternoon. He was wishing that the bad weather would just happen and have this depressing gray weather over with.
 When he got home he saw that CarolÕs car was in the driveway. ItÕs probably nothing, he thought. She must have gone next door to visit RichardÕs mother. Suddenly he heard the noise of sirens racing down the street as Danny threw open the door and came running out of the house.
 ÒDaddy, come inside!Ó he yelled. ÒMommyÕs asleep and sheÕs not waking up and sheÕs really hot!Ó
 Todd dropped his briefcase and ran after Danny into the house, as the ambulance jerked to a stop in front of the driveway.
 Inside the house RichardÕs mother, Laura, was kneeling beside Carol, sponging her face with a towel moistened with rubbing alohol. Yolanda was playing happily in her crib, unaware of the fuss over her sleeping mother. Todd dropped to his knees in front of her as a tear formed in the corner of his eye.
 ÒWhat happened?Ó he whispered as the paramedics ran into the room. He, Laura, and Danny were shoved aside as they collected around Carol.
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 The Russian man again came into the room what seemed like days later, when he brought a plate of warm food for her dinner. Melissa eyes him suspiciously.
 ÒPlease,Ó he said, Òeat. You need to keep your strength.Ó She did not reply, and he spoke again. ÒPlease believe that we do not intend to hurt you.Ó
 She glared defiantly at him. ÒThen why did you kidnap me off a street in New York City? Am I supposed to believe that some benefit is going to come to me from that experience?Ó
 He set the plate down on the desk and turned away, brushing his hand through his hair. Melissa felt a surge of feelings run through her that were disturbing, to say the least. She found this man to be extremely attractive. She choked on her breath and looked away, knowing full well that it was irrational of her to be thinking like that. Just then he turned to her.
 ÒMelissa,Ó he said carefully. ÒI canÕt tell you the reasons that we - kidnapped - you. But please trust me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.Ó
 She didnÕt respond, and he turned to leave the room. ÒPlease eat your dinner,Ó he said. ÒIt will get cold.Ó