Eventually, with agonizing slowness for most, morning arrived. At 6:00 am, the phone
in Bert Seagram’s den rang. It was the kidnappers. The HRT techs went through their usual
motions before allowing Bert to pick up the phone. When he answered, Bert confirmed that
he had the $500,000; it was being brought to him by his accountant at 8:00 am this
morning. Instructions were given as to how to deliver the ransom. Bert barely managed to
hide his surprise, when he heard that the drop for the diversionary ransom was to be at
the same location as the actual payment. Bert then realized the kidnappers’ intent. They
could snatch the bankroll, whilst the police were focused on the pocket change. After he
hung up, the technician could offer no encouragement. This time, the call had come from
the northeast section of the city.
The HRT officers were surprised when Danielle and Joanna arrived at the house around
7:30. They were technically off-duty until Tuesday, thus not an official part of this
operation. However, the HRT’s were too busy scrambling around in preparation for the stake
out at the ransom drop, to ponder their presence. The two detectives said brief a ‘Hello’,
then settled in the kitchen, out of sight. They were soon forgotten by the busy
policemen.
At eight on the dot, Bert’s accountant arrived. He’d secretly been briefed by the
grieving husband on the reason for the two ransoms. He handed over the briefcase and
offered an earnest bidding that all would work out for the best, then left. The officers
counted the money, then placed it in the Mauler’s gym bag Bert had provided. They had
already outfitted the bag with a transponder, as well as a new wrinkle on the traditional
‘dye pack’. Rather than the big bang associated with dye, this device silently delivered a
non-lethal radioactive isotope when picked up by the handle straps (after activation).
Invisible, the isotope could be seen with special glasses worn by the police and also
tracked by a hybrid Geiger counter. Finally, when the zipper was completely opened, any
person standing within five feet would be enveloped in a cloud of pepper spray.
As the police proceeded with placing the cash inside the gym bag, Bert casually took
the empty briefcase into the kitchen. There, he was greeted by Joanna and Danielle.
Danielle was dressed in jeans and a Mauler’s game jersey proclaiming the number of the
team’s quarterback. Over this she wore a windbreaker that effectively concealed her
shoulder rig. Joanna was dressed in a seemingly uncharacteristic sweat suit.
He opened the case in front of them, then removed the hidden panel inside. From this
he extracted two million dollars worth of untraceable bearer’s bonds. He handed the bonds
to Joanna, who slipped them inside the glossy publication she carried. Bert noticed the
blonde’s uneasiness, but wrote it off to her anticipation of the task at hand. He did not
guess the true reason. He looked at his watch. It was 10:00 am, three hours until the
drop. With nothing else to do, the three sat at the kitchen table, saying very little.
Eventually, it was time. Each wished the others good luck.
Joanna and Danielle climbed into Joanna’s yellow Firebird, Bert into his black,
SL600 roadster. The detectives left first, followed by Bert and a convoy of police
surveillance vehicles. Joanna turned right, as if heading back to the city, while Bert and
his entourage turned left. Once out of sight, Joanna turned and started heading in the
same direction as the football team’s owner. All parties concerned were headed for the
same destination.
By the time Danielle and Joanna arrived, the parking lot was already ¾’s
full. It was opening day for the new Memphis Mauler’s football franchise and the locals
were curious to see how they’d fair. Smoke drifted up from countless barbeques and the
atmosphere was quite raucous. The kidnappers had assigned Joanna a specific parking spot
in which to leave her car. This told the detectives that, without question, Joanna would
be spotted and tracked long before reaching the delivery spot chosen. Knowing this, Joanna
stopped her car well short of the location and got out to shed her sweat suit.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Danielle still had to stifle a snicker
when her partner climbed back inside. Now clad in what the sweats had concealed, Joanna’s
transformation was nothing less than shocking. She sat there, skin rosy with
embarrassment, dressed in what the kidnappers had outlined. She wore white, nylon jogging
shorts and a green top. The top was a replica jersey of Donovan McNabb, quarterback of the
Philadelphia Eagles, the team whom the Maulers were playing today. But, of course, that
wasn’t the bad part.
Loyal fans all over the country often visited opposing team’s stadiums, dressed in
their favorite team’s colors. This usually only results in some good natured heckling by
the home team’s fans (except in Philadelphia, where dressing in the enemy’s colors would
get you a beer shower and some colorful comments about self fornication). However, the
kidnappers had been very adamant in their instructions regarding Joanna’s garb. You see,
Maggie Seagram’s captors had specified that Joanna purchase and wear shorts and jersey
only in youth size.
So there Joanna sat, even that casual posture threatening to split the seams of her
attire. As instructed, the jersey was a brief cut, a great deal of Joanna’s tummy exposed
below the hem. Although modest in size, her 34” C-cup bust still distorted the jersey’s
#5. At least the mesh of the jersey stretched somewhat. That could not be said of the
white, nylon shorts, whose stitching threatened to burst at any moment. The material
hugged the detective’s body tightly, the leg openings stopping scandalously high up her
thighs. Although trim and fit and not one to shy away from wearing a bikini, this outfit
made Joanna feel particularly tawdry.
Seeing her partner’s discomfort, Danielle decided to get down to business, in order
to keep her distracted. She handed her a modified BlueTooth headset. The kidnappers had
assured them that they could monitor radio transmissions, but the detectives gambled that
ordinary phone contact would go undetected. Joanna slipped the earpiece in place.
Danielle donned her own set and called the pre-set number. Except for some feedback
due to their close proximity, the connection was crystal clear. Keeping the line open,
Danielle leaned over and gave her partner a kiss on the cheek, followed by a cautionary
look. She knew to say something now would only rile her partner/lover. She stepped out of
the car and watched Joanna drive away. Then she double timed it toward the stadium. She
wanted to enter the gate and take up position long before Joanna arrived. She flashed her
badge to the attendant at the gate, entered and looked for a good spot to survey the area.
There was no way to know, that a pair of binoculars had tracked her movements from the
moment she stepped out of the car. It hadn’t been hard, the Firebird’s bright yellow paint
job made it stand out like a school bus.
***
Joanna parked in the designated spot. She then slipped off her running shoes,
replacing them with another pair of footwear. Again, the kidnappers had been very clear.
White, strap-on sandals with heels no lower than three inches. Rarely feeling the need to
dress up, Joanna didn’t own a pair of shoes with heels taller than two inches, let alone
something like these. She’d been forced to purchase this set at the mall where she bought
the rest of her attire. They felt a little snug, even for sandals, but she thought they’d
be all right. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and got out of the car.
A group of men tailgating nearby, stopped their conversations in mid-sentence and
openly gawked at the beautiful blonde who’d just exited the sleek sports car. Now standing
a hair over 5’10”, Joanna’s long legs seemed to stretch forever. If it were possible, the
short cut jersey seemed to ride up even further on her torso. The cat calls started at
once and Joanna flashed them an icy glare. It did little to allay the taunting.
As she walked, Joanna used every bit of willpower she had, not to reach down and try
to fix the legs of the shorts, which felt as though they’d ridden up almost to the
waistband. The synthetic fabric was stretched so tightly across her firm derriere, that
it’d left the policewoman with only two options, wear a thong or go without underwear
altogether. Modesty had dictated a wispy, white thong, but even at that, she was forced to
wear the waistband low on her hips, so as not to peek out above the shorts.
Joanna resisted the urge to clutch the Mauler’s team program (which contained the
bearer’s bonds) tightly across her chest, protecting her modesty. Knowing that a good
offense makes a better defense, she strode purposefully toward the stadium, head held
high, chest thrust out. She wondered though, if the kidnappers hadn’t intentionally made
her park so far away from the gate (of course they had!). The lewd comments from the men
came in a never ending stream. As did the indignant murmurs from the women, spawned mostly
by jealousy of the blonde’s remarkable body.
The detective couldn’t reach the ticket gate soon enough. Not because of the cat
calls, she knew there’d be more of those inside. No, it was because her new shoes were
killing her. Joanna was sure that she’d be sporting some blisters on spots where the
straps rubbed her skin. In addition to that, her calves were screaming at the unnatural
posture they’d assumed, due to the height of the heels.
Once she entered, she looked around for Danielle, but couldn’t see her. In as casual
a manner as she could manage, she tilted her head and spoke into the microphone. Her
partner’s reassuring voice came through the earpiece, informing her that she had Joanna in
sight. Another deep breath, then Joanna started off for the rendezvous point.
***
The location of the ransom drop having been established, Bert Seagram allowed the
HRT vehicles to pass him, so that they could establish a perimeter at the scene. Bert had
overheard them bemoaning earlier, the logistics of covering such a crowded venue. But that
was the hand they were dealt, so they professionally began to make plans. Bert’s mind
snapped back to the present, as he also turned into the stadium parking lot.
Seeing the lot overflowing with cars should have delighted him and filled him with
hope that the team’s contract could be honored. Instead, he saw all of these people as
obstacles at getting his wife back. Or worse yet, should something go wrong, an innocent
bystander could be harmed. Bert couldn’t forgive himself if that happened. He tried to
shake off his trepidation as he drove into the private parking area.
As he got out of his roadster, he was besieged by a gaggle of reporters. By their
excited babble, it was clear to Bert that none of them knew of his wife Maggie’s dire
predicament, nor of the contents of the gym bag he carried. Still, Bert clutched the hand
straps a bit tighter on the bag bearing his team’s logo, fearful that one of them might
want to peer inside. Forcing what he hoped was a relaxed smile on his face, he patiently
answered all of their mundane questions. Finally, when he could take no more, he politely
as possible, excused himself and headed for the private elevator. Once the doors slid
closed, he let out a breath and said a quick prayer. Then he punched the number for the
floor in which he needed to visit. He hoped that the police had had enough time to get
into position.
He exited the elevator and was grateful that the corridor wasn’t terribly crowded.
Apparently, many of the attendees were fans of Faith Hill, who Bert had managed to sign to
sing the national anthem. That or folks were just plain excited to finally see
professional football in their home town and were already in their seats, waiting in
anticipation.
Bert could not see a single police uniform anywhere. He was a bit startled when he
made eye contact with a man who seemed strangely familiar. The man was dressed casually,
standing in line at the beer counter. Bert thought it curious when the man allowed another
patron to butt in front of him. Then it dawned on him. It was one of the HRT officers.
That’s why he’d looked familiar. And his cover was brilliant, conceded Bert. The one place
where there’d always be a line, was at the refreshment counter (the other would be the
men‘s room, a little later on). If the officer was careful enough, he could maintain a
continuous presence there and not draw suspicion.
Bert strode to the designated spot and looked around unconsciously. At least he had
the presence of mind not to make eye contact with the officer again. When he felt no one
was looking, he knelt and slid the bag under the elevated legs of a trash receptacle. Then
he rose and strode back to the elevator, which he rode up to his suite. Before entering
though, he stood out on the balcony looking down at the throngs of late arrivers. Again,
what should have been a sight to give him hope for the team’s future, he felt nothing but
deep seeded concern. Then his eyes were drawn to a stunning blonde, dressed in as
provocative an outfit as sportswear could be. It took Bert several moments to realize that
it was Joanna August.
Thinking of her only as a policewoman before this moment, he hadn’t realized how
truly beautiful she was. Seagram noticed that she still carried the program under one arm,
the drop hadn‘t been made yet. He looked around futilely for her partner, Danielle Frost,
but the swirl of people made spotting her impossible. Bert took this as a good sign.
Seagram’s gaze returned back to the blonde, just as she was accidentally bumped by another
woman. He watched as Joanna turned in frustration, but apparently could not spot the
person who’d committed the infraction. Then curiously, Joanna turned down a secondary
corridor reserved for stadium employees and disappeared from sight.
Wishing her good luck, Bert turned and entered his suite, prepared to tell his
assembled guests the reason for his wife’s absence. They offered their wishes for a speedy
recovery (from the flu) and turned toward the field in anticipation of the kick off. The
players were in place, the game about to begin.
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