Gunn watches me with wide eyes as the voice drawls on, impossibly deep. “Scan the code with the phone, log in to your account, and transfer the funds.”
“I need to talk to Avery first. How do I know she’s safe?”
“You have four minutes.”
Shit.My brain goes into overdrive. It’s not as simple as that. I can’t just log in and transfer the money. The account requires dual-factor authentication, which means a code will be sent to my email or my phone to verify I’m the one who’s actually signing on. It’s not usually a big deal, but I don’t have my phone. My phone is gone.
But my laptop isn’t.
I search for it and spot it resting on the side table. I’m about to move for it when Gunn steps in front of me and mimes covering the phone. When I do, he leans in and whispers, “You can’t do this. There’s no guarantee they’ll release your wife if you give them whatthey want. If they get the cash, there’s a good chance they’ll kill her anyway. You need to stall until I can get my people involved. You’re the one with the leverage here. Don’t give it away.”
It’s true—I am. I have what they want. But they have what I need, what I literally can’t live without. I move my hand and speak into the phone. “Can we slow down for a minute and talk about this? Just let me speak to Avery first. How do I know she’s still alive?”
“Mr. Wilson,” the voice says, “I fear you aren’t taking this situation seriously enough. Let me assure you that if you don’t transfer the money in the next three minutes, I will fill your wife’s head with every bullet left in my gun.”
“If you do, you won’t get a cent.”
“Do you think you’re special?” the voice snaps back. “We have a long list of targets. You’re only one of them. We’ll simply kill your wife and move on. Go ahead and test me. Find out what happens.”
My heart stops. “Okay, okay. Give me a second.”
I move. I push past Gunn toward the laptop and hit the power button. The machine whirs, taking an impossibly long time to load before the screen blinks and comes to life. I raise the business card and bring the QR code into focus through the phone’s camera, then click on the link that pops up. The exchange appears on the cellphone’s screen. I enter my credentials and, as I expected, am required to confirm my account. I open Chrome on my laptop and surf to Gmail. The message is waiting for me, looking sinister in my inbox.Click this button to confirm your device.
“Two minutes,” the voice says.
A hand hits my shoulder. I startle and find Gunn staring at me with eyes that are wide in warning. He shakes his head.Don’t do this.
But I have to. It isn’t his wife who was abducted. It isn’t his child whose life is on the line. He doesn’t have anything to lose, unlike me. Right now, my entire world hangs in the balance. And if I don’t do this, it could all be wiped away in an instant.
I click the button to confirm the phone and my account loads: $3,886,554.23. A transfer window appears a second later—one populated with a crypto wallet string I don’t recognize. A series of digital characters ready to swallow every cent Avery and I have ever worked for.
I type in the amount, bring my thumb toward the green transfer button, and hesitate. Once I do this, once I submit the transfer, I’ll never be able to recover the funds. Transferring crypto isn’t the same as sending a wire. With a wire you can sometimes get your money back if needed. Not with Bitcoin or Ethereum. Once you send crypto to someone, it’s gone. And as Gunn pointed out, so is my leverage.
“One minute,” the voice says. “Transfer the money.”
I close my eyes and swallow. I can’t do it. Not yet. I have to know. “Put my wife on the phone.”
“Forty seconds. Transfer the funds.”
“No, not until I speak to Avery.” My ribs tighten as I say it. But I have to know. Ihaveto.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Mr. Wilson. I won’t ask again.”
“And I won’t transfer a fucking dime if you don’t let me talk to my wife first!” The words pour out of me in a hot rush, my rage resurfacing, my absolute frustration at how powerless I am right now. But I won’t send them a cent until I know she’s still alive. “Put her on!”
The line goes silent, and my world turns to molasses. Every second that passes feels like a noose cinching tighter around Avery’s neck. And not just hers, but mine too. Because if this doesn’t work, if this man doesn’t let me speak to her, if he actually carries through with his threat to kill her, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll never be able to let it go.
No response comes. His breath leaks through the phone in a distorted hiss.
In. Out. In. Out. In.
My heart rages in my chest. My head swells with panic.
Put her on! Put her on! Put her on!
Finally, a sharp rustling sound floods the phone and I hear a new voice. “G-Grant … is that you?” The tone is frail and broken—a feather lost in a gust of wind—but it’s Avery’s. Relief pours through me. She’s alive, and I still have a chance to save her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Did they hurt you?”
