Kidnap and Ransom. Michelle Gagnon

Ukraine.”

      Jake repressed a sigh. This pattern had become all too familiar. A month or so stateside and Syd got antsy. He’d already had to stop her from intervening in two other active cases that, in her opinion, were taking too long to resolve. What she failed to grasp was that in the private sector, patience and diplomacy usually produced better outcomes than strong-arm tactics. Syd was always a fan of the more forceful approach. Jake weighed his words before speaking. “I think Dubkova deserves another week. The kidnappers are starting to cave. He’s already talked them down another million. One more and we’re in the range that Centaur is willing to pay.”

      “Fine. But if they don’t come down in a week, we send in a team.”

      “Sure,” Jake agreed, knowing full well that by the end of the day Dubkova intended to have the ransom terms decided, which rendered the entire debate moot. And the prospect of an operation was guaranteed to preoccupy Syd until then.

      The company they had co-founded a little more than a year earlier, The Longhorn Group, had taken off in leaps and bounds. They specialized in Kidnap and Ransom cases. Insurance companies that issued K&R insurance kept them on retainer.

      Last July they had been the only two in the office. Now there were more than thirty full-time employees on payroll. When one of their clients was kidnapped they mobilized a team to respond, including specialists who coached the families on the negotiation process, and bodyguards to provide protection in case the kidnappers tried to snatch more victims. And if the negotiations fell apart, or the kidnappers became too volatile, The Longhorn Group sent in a recovery team comprised former Special Forces operatives. Their success rate thus far had been impressive: more than forty cases handled in less than a year. Most of the hostages were ransomed out at a price the insurance company was willing to pay. In ten cases they’d been forced to send in units to recover the hostage. Only one case had gone south, thanks to a trigger-happy kidnapper. That one still haunted Jake, but in the grand scheme of things, The Longhorn Group’s record couldn’t be better.

      Of course, part of the boom could be attributed to the explosion in kidnappings worldwide. From the waters off the coast of Somalia to beach resorts in the Philippines to the sleepy streets of Silicon Valley, nowhere was completely safe anymore. In the past year they’d handled cases in Colombia, Guatemala, Italy, Spain, the United States and, increasingly, Russia, where kidnappings were becoming as ubiquitous as those nesting dolls hawked as souvenirs. There were rumors that in the recent elections, one party’s entire campaign was financed by ransom money.

      Most people were unaware of what a successful ransom negotiation required, especially when an insurance company was involved. The kidnappers invariably made exorbitant demands, either financial or otherwise, in the first stages of negotiation. A frantic family, desperate to see their loved one released, would try to meet those demands. The problem was that paying the full ransom almost guaranteed that the same victim or another family member would be targeted in the future. In the mid-90s, a Hong Kong billionaire was snatched. His family paid the $10 million dollar ransom without any negotiation. A few years later, he was taken again, and this time the kidnappers wanted double the amount. Even though that ransom was also paid, the businessman was killed.

      A seasoned hostage negotiator described it to Jake as roughly equivalent to buying a rug in a Moroccan bazaar. The kidnappers initially wanted something outrageous. A negotiator’s job was to bargain them down, convincing them that the family didn’t have that kind of money available, the insurance company refused to pay that much or that what they were asking for was simply impossible if it involved something like the release of political prisoners. A great negotiator wore the kidnappers down, until both parties agreed on an acceptable ransom. And with luck, the time and trouble involved meant that the hostage would be safe from future targeting.

      Of course, the fact that human lives were at stake made the game more challenging. Walking away was simply not an option, although going in for a snatch and grab was. Which was why The Longhorn Group employed both highly trained negotiators and commandos. Always good to cover your bases.

      “So. What else is on the docket?” Syd said.

      Jake glanced at the papers on his desk, although he could cite their current cases off the top of his head. “Fribush just left Colombia, the tourists are all safe and sound. We’ve got Manchester handling that thing in Sardinia, and Jacobs is still in Croatia. Sumner called in from Pakistan, things aren’t going well over there.”

      “Really?” Syd perked up. “I love Pakistan this time of year.”

      “It’s January, no one loves Pakistan now. Besides, I thought we agreed you were on desk duty for a while.”

      “It’s been a while. If I stay much longer, I’ll lose my mind. Look, I’m even starting to get fat.” Syd pinched a fold of cashmere sweater over her taut stomach.

      Jake grinned. “You could use a little flesh on those bones.”

      She tossed a paper clip at him. “Go to hell, partner.”

      Jake’s phone buzzed, interrupting his retort. He pushed the speaker button. “Riley.”

      “Your brother is here to see you.”

      Jake raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

      “Oh, I didn’t know you had more than one.” His new secretary sounded flustered. “I’ll ask.”

      “No, that’s okay. Send him in.”

      Syd let out a low whistle. “One of the infamous Riley brothers, huh? This is exciting.”

      Jake didn’t answer. His younger brother opened the door, a wrinkled overcoat draped over his arm. He was a younger, heavier version of Jake: same salt-and-pepper hair, same blue eyes. His face was flaming red, either from the cold or nerves. Jake walked around his desk to greet him. “Chris!” He embraced him. “What are you doing in town?”

      “I, uh…” Jake followed his eyes and sighed. Syd tended to have that effect on men.

      “Syd Clement.” She dropped her feet to the floor and extended a hand in one fluid motion. “I bet you’ve got some good Jake stories for me.”

      “I guess.” Chris looked completely bewildered.

      “Let me take that.” Jake peeled the jacket off his brother’s arm and hung it on the back of the door. “Have a seat.”

      Chris nervously perched on the chair beside Syd, sticking to the edge farthest away from her. As Jake sat back down, he took inventory. He’d missed the family Christmas celebration since Kelly wasn’t up for it, so it had been over a year since he and his brother had seen each other. About that long since they’d spoken, too. Chris was an accountant, married his high school sweetheart, still lived in the town they grew up in. Other than their blood, they had nothing in common.

      “So, Chris. What brings you to New York?” Syd asked, breaking the silence.

      “Well, it’s kind of…private.”

      “Really?” Syd arched an eyebrow and leaned forward in her chair. Chris shied away. “The plot thickens. I can’t wait to hear it.”

      “Syd, take a hike,” Jake said. “We’ll finish up later.”

      “I always miss the good stuff,” Syd huffed dramatically. She slipped on her heels one at a time, then pointed at Jake. “Remember, one more week and I’m on a plane to the Ukraine. You promised.”

      “Bye, Syd.”

      “Lovely meeting you, Chris.” She winked at him, then turned and left the room.

      “So that’s your, uh…”

      “Partner.”

      “Right.” Chris looked around the office appreciatively, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of Central Park, plush carpeting, oil paintings on the walls. Jake could almost see the calculator in his head tallying it up. “Looks like you’re doing okay.”

      “It’s