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Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Novella · Crime/Gangster · #2111248
This is about a young woman named Laura who is captured and held hostage by thugs
[Introduction]
 Laura's Kidnapping Open in new Window. (13+)
This is about a young woman named Laura who is captured and held hostage by thugs
#2111248 by Chris Breva Author IconMail Icon


Laura Hastings worked in art gallery. The gallery had extremely high tech security systems because it had many priceless works in it. One day Laura was conducting a tour when one of the tour group made his move. He pulled out a 9mm hand gun and grabbed the woman in front of him as a hostage. Other members of the tour group joined the man. Once the crowd was under their control, the man kissed his hostage, whom Laura recognized as being the gallery's head of security.

"That explains the guns," Laura thought.

Laura's husband was former Navy Seal offices Joshua Hastings. He too worked at the library but knew enough about fighting to know when to fight and when not to. With all the innocecent here he wouldn't do so.

The thieves took several million dollars worth of art and kidnapped Laura. The art might have been okay but Laura was crossing the Josh Hastings line.
Laura Hastings had graduated art school with highest honors ten years earlier. She had quickly worked her way through the ranks of a major gallery and was now their Director of Procurement. She had been offered the job of Executive Director but had turned it down because she preferred being where she could deal directly with the art itself. It also allowed her the opportunity to deal with the public as she was also the tour guide of the gallery..

One day she was taking a group through as usual. Everybody who entered the gallery was required to enter through a metal detector. This particular day the crowd was rather large. One man seemed to be a bit too attentive to the gallery's chief of security but Laura dismissed it as flirting. This was a mistake she would regret.

Halfway through the tour the chief of security passed by the crowd and the man made his move. He produced a knife that Laura could not believe had escaped the metal detector though it appeared to be sharpened plastic. He shoved the knife against the throat of the chief of security and demanded that everybody get on the floor. Laura's husband Josh was in the tour group and could have easily taken the man out. Josh was on leave from active duty with a special forces unit of the military. he was well versed in hand to hand combat, weapons, and other areas of out and out destruction. Laura knew he could rain chaos on the man's head. She also knew he would not jeopardize lives to do so.

The man backed the chief of security away from the crowd. "You all behave and this pretty little lady won''t end up with a hole where she doesn't need one."

He backed her toward a utility closet. Once there he let her go and she opened the closet and then kissed the man. The chief of security had sold out! "Looks like you'll be fired honey," the man said.

"I'm not the only thing that will be fired if Mrs. Hastings doesn't cooperate with us. I'll be firing one of these weapons directly into her."

She began distributing weapons and three other members of the crowd stepped out, took a weapon and covered the crowd. "If anybody has any bright ideas that the cavalry will come rolling up because the chief executive officer will call them from his office, you can dismiss that idea," a voice said.

Laura recognized the voice as being that of her boss. The gallery had a limited number of employees, most of which always worked directly with tours. The only two who didn't were the owner of the voice, CEO Jeffery Woodson and his secretary. If Woodson had sold out too, Laura shuddered to think what had become of his secretary who was new.

Laura was ordered to remove the most valuable art from it's display cases and place it in specially made containers. One such piece was a Monet considered priceless, a Rembrandt also considered priceless, and a piece by Leonardo Da Vinci, considered even more priceless.

Once the artwork had been carefully stored the leader of the goon pack who name Laura did not yet know, grabbed her by the arm. "You're coming with us princess. You're our ticket to safe passage. Laura looked at her husband who gave her the reassuring look that the cavalry would track them down even if they hid on the sun itself. Then she was whisked away and forced into a car which drove away with no police pursuit.


A Non-Existent User
Before they shoved her into the car, one of the gang yanked Laura's hands behind her back, tying them so tight that she could feel the rope cutting into her wrists. A blanket was dragged down over her head and belted around the shoulders. It was as hot as the inside of an oven, and smelled like an old dog's bed. Gee, thanks, Laura thought, I'll probably get fleas from this. She hoped for a convenient hole in the blanket, but it was dark as a starless night. Damn. She heard the voices of her captors and leant slightly towards the sounds, hoping to hear some incriminating comment, but they were too muffled through the blanket and under the noise of the car engine revving. She was shoved into a lying position on the back seat and she felt the car sag, then her legs were lifted, and dropped again across somebody's lap. A hand started sliding up and down her knee, but a sharp kick upwards from her stopped that.

Laura managed to squirm wormlike onto her side and curl up small. She could still hear the voices talking, but the engine sounds had changed now, to more of a hum, and she knew they were moving. Where though? Before they'd blindfolded her, she had caught a glimpse of the car, parked at the ground floor fire exit into the lane at the back of the gallery. Blue, rusted wheel arches, furry dice hanging off the window and a personalised numberplate, WE R DA BST. It had been facing towards the Brown Street end of the lane. Laura focused hard on every movement the car made. Left onto Brown Street. Straight on. Stop for the traffic lights; Laura could hear the beep of the pedestrian crossing, and the tick-tick of the car indicator. As the car turned, she slid up against the door. So right then, onto Mattis Street. They must be heading for the highway. It wasn't difficult to distinguish between bends in the road and actual junctions taken. Laura's husband always teased her about her memory; she could fall asleep in the car when they went on road trips, and wake again later able to tell him exactly what route he had taken. And this time, Laura had no intentions of falling asleep.

© Copyright 2017 Chris Breva, xx-xx, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
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