wrong with that at all."
He pulled a small package out of his coat pocket and handed it to her."Your mother and I bought you a present. It's one of those gifts that's as much for us as it is for you."
She smiled when she saw what it was—a new cell phone. "I assume there's something special about this one?"
"It's guaranteed to work. As long as you stay in the city, of course."
* * *
There was a small miracle over Thanksgiving, just not the one they'd hoped for. They received word through the local police that one of their undercover operatives had spotted a man who fit Evan's description in a small jungle village somewhere between Bogota and Tunja. The informant said that Evan had a beard and that his wrists were red from having his hands tied, but that otherwise he seemed healthy. By the time the police had arrived, however, he was no longer there.
The image of Evan was burned into Julia's mind, and was one she would carry with her forever. Appearing unbidden, it was like a hand taking hold of her heart and squeezing. Tears of frustration and fear and longing would tighten her throat and spill from her eyes and she would be lost in a cloud of agony.
As soon as they could, Julia and Clyde pored over maps of the region, noting the average nine-thou- sand-foot altitude, the amount of rainfall and temperature in this part of the Andes Mountains. Because of the direction the kidnappers had taken, Matt and George both figured it was the ELN, the National Liberation Army, that had taken Evan, and aggressively went after the contacts they had within that organization. The local authorities questioned their own informants and talked to a man who had been released recently from the same region. Nothing.
The kidnappers finally broke their silence in the middle of February. The ransom demand arrived a week to the day after an article about Americans being held hostage overseas appeared in a popular newsmagazine in the United States. It was an in- depth piece about the dangers of traveling to certain countries and included a lengthy sidebar with pictures of several hostages, including Evan. The information and photograph had been supplied by Harold's assistant, one of the few people they'd forgotten to tell not to give interviews. Undoubtedly believing she was helping, she'd told the reporter how important Evan was to Stephens Engineering, adding the un- publicized fact that he'd recently been made a partner.
George Black called her on Valentine's Day, her cell phone ringing in the middle of her Spanish class at the Embassy. "Julia, it's George. Do you have a minute?"
She got up and left the classroom. "I always have a minute for my favorite FBI guy."
She moved farther down the hallway, where the reception was better. "What's up?"
"We've heard from the people who have Evan."
Her knees went weak. She put her hand against the wall for support. "And?"
"They're asking for ten million."
She did a quick calculation. "What is that? About forty-five hundred American?" That was not only doable, she should have at least that much in her checking account. If not, she could get a cash advance on her credit card. Had she ever learned how, she would have done a cartwheel right there in the hallway.
"Not pesos, Julia," George said. "Dollars."
Five seconds of joy. Was that all she was given after four months of agony? It wasn't fair. She fought to keep the fury and frustration from her voice."I don't understand. Why so much? We can't possibly pay it. What in the world would make them think we could?"
"Obviously, someone got hold of the article and figured if Evan was a partner in Stephens Engineering he must be worth a lot of money. I don't know...." For a brief, rare instant, he sounded discouraged. "Maybe this is what they've been waiting for all along."
"Do we know who has him? Is it the ELN?"
"They didn't identify themselves. My guess is they decided that for someone this valuable and with this amount of money involved it's more