Four and a half hours later there were no leads and I was going out of my mind with worry. I'd finished the paperwork about an hour ago; it had been slow going because I couldn't focus. I had gotten a cup of coffee, used the restroom, ran an update on the computer software and still nothing; the second van had disappeared into thin air. I had now resorted to pacing the floor of the office. I nervously played with strands of my hair and tried to think of something I could do.
James poked his head into the office: "We got something, they sent us a video. Head down to the Conference Room."
I nodded unable to speak and walked downstairs to the Conference Room. I was afraid of what was on that tape. I already had a sick feeling that it would the hostiles making demands and threatening or carrying out torture on the hostages. On Keith.
I sat down in a chair next to Amy. She reached over and squeezed my hand. I smiled weakly at her.
James came in and stood at the head of the table. "We received this video anonymously through the internet. I want everyone on this, trace it back and find out where it was sent from. This is our top priority, pool all of our resources." He sat down and nodded to a techie who played the video on the screen in the front of the room: Two men with assault rifles stood in front of the camera, wearing hooded masks. They moved back.
I gasped as I saw Keith bound and gagged alongside Pete. Both already looked badly beaten.
"We have a simple demand. Tell your President to leave our countries alone and stop the charade of peace talks. The President must call for an emergency conference and he will then cancel the talks and false peace treaties. If not these men will die in the next six hours," the man said with a thick Arabic accent. He then motioned to his men who stepped forward. "I'm not one to mess with."
A hooded man grabbed Keith's hand. Oh, please no. Leave him alone.
I watched in horror as he broke Keith's fingers on his right hand. Keith screamed in agony and before the last finger was broken, he fell to the floor unconscious. I ran out of the room, nearly slamming into the door. I couldn't handle seeing anymore, I knew Pete was next.
I ran to the bathroom, holding my hair back as I threw up in the toilet. I leaned against the stall and cried. Things were getting worse and everything was spiraling out of control. There was nothing I could do to stop those men from hurting my husband. Hell, I didn't even know where they were. I did know he was hurt, in pain, and alone. Why hadn't I agreed to let him get the test? Maybe we would have stayed home and none of this would be happening. No, no, I can't blame myself, that won't help matters. That won't help Keith.