The Syndicate

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Adriana’s phone danced on the glossy wooden surface of the hotel room nightstand. She’d been watching the device all afternoon, waiting impatiently for it to ring. Each time she received a text message, an email, or a random call (none of which arrived very often) she leaned over and checked to see if it was the mysterious Belgian.

Each time, she’d been disappointed. Not now.

She knew it was him from the blocked caller ID on the screen. No one else she knew used that feature. More likely, they didn’t know how.

Adriana hit the green button and answered. “I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“On pins and needles, I’m sure.” His answer was as smooth as it was cruel.

It was week three of her father’s captivity. And this man was the one responsible. She imagined the worst: Her father, Diego, sitting in a cold, damp basement somewhere with barely anything to eat and nothing but a bucket to use when necessary. The thoughts made her cringe, and she hoped that the sinister man on the other end of the line would have the common decency to treat his prisoner better than that. Doubtful, but hope was all she could do for the time being.

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