The sound of helicopter blades echoed again as Jubal arrived with several tech specialists, carrying an assortment of equipment onto the villa's lawn.
"Got kicked out of the operations center again?" Jack teased, helping him carry a heavy suitcase as they walked into the villa.
"Exactly. As soon as our esteemed commander stepped out of her office, she sent me here on the double and took over the operation herself," Jubal replied with a wry smile, glancing at Jack and the visibly frustrated Hannah, unsure what had ruffled their feathers.
"I'm fine," Hannah said, still irritated. "It's just that lunatic. He claims to have a daughter, but—what?" She paused mid-sentence, noticing Jubal's awkward expression.
"NYPD just sent an update. Three weeks ago, Mike Helton tried to report his 16-year-old daughter, Stephanie, missing. She supposedly left home at 7 PM and never came back."
"What do you mean by tried to report it?" Hannah blinked, confused.
"As I mentioned earlier, Helton's official records show he lives alone—no parents, no marriage, no children. The officer on duty checked and found no birth records linking him to a Stephanie Rice. Stephanie was born in New Jersey, also an orphan, with no registered address or school enrollment."
"And?" Hannah narrowed her eyes, waiting for more.
"While confirming Helton's identity, I instructed NYPD to send officers to his residence. Two neighbors confirmed he'd been living with a girl for about six months."
Jubal's expression grew increasingly bitter.
"So just because the system couldn't verify their relationship, the officer on duty dismissed the case?" Hannah's voice rose in frustration. As a former patrol officer, she understood all too well how dismissive some officers could be in cases like this.
The tech specialists Jubal had brought began setting up their equipment. Jack felt this wasn't the time to dwell on past missteps and placed a hand on Hannah's shoulder, intending to change the subject. Before he could, Jubal's phone rang.
"Okay, I'll put it on speaker. Hold on," Jubal said, signaling the other two as he stepped outside.
The trio moved to the villa's manicured backyard, away from the ears of anyone inside the safe room. Jubal set his phone on speaker and placed it between them. Dana Mosier's voice came through.
"Whether or not Stephanie Rice is Mike Helton's daughter doesn't matter. He might very well be a lunatic. But we have no choice now; we must prepare on two fronts.
"Hannah, you'll head to Helton's residence in Queens by helicopter to bypass traffic. We need to locate Stephanie Rice, no matter where she is.
"Jubal, you'll manage the situation on-site. We need a negotiation expert to buy time. Jack, as our criminal psychology consultant, your task is to assist in stabilizing Helton's emotions and prevent him from harming Chloe.
"At the same time, the operations center is contacting the property owner to learn more about the safe room. Since they're in Europe, this will take some time.
"Once we have details on the safe room, we'll formulate a breach plan. Jack and the SWAT team will evaluate its feasibility. Understood?"
"Understood," all three responded in unison.
As Jack watched the helicopter lift off with Hannah aboard, the tech team finished their setup. "We've bypassed the security system. We now have control over the safe room's visuals and communication," one of the specialists reported.
An Asian man with thinning hair and glasses tapped on his keyboard, then turned the laptop to face Jubal and Jack. The screen displayed the interior of a well-furnished rectangular basement. The room had a fridge, sofa, television, and even carpeting. On one side was a desk with four monitors and a microphone, showing surveillance feeds of the villa and surrounding area.
Chloe, the kidnapped girl, sat nervously on a sofa near the door, her hands tied. Mike Helton, pacing like a caged animal, held a handgun, his expression frantic.
"Great. So he can still monitor the outside through the cameras and hear sounds from the villa, but you can cut him off whenever needed, correct?" Jubal asked.
"Yes. I can switch it to manual control at any time," the tech specialist confirmed.
"Good. Cut his access to the cameras and audio. We'll make ourselves his sole communication channel," Jubal ordered.
The specialist nodded, made some adjustments, and turned the laptop back to them. The safe room's monitors now displayed black screens.
"This microphone works like a radio. Hold to talk, release to stop," the tech specialist explained, handing over a portable microphone.
Inside the safe room, Helton quickly noticed the change. He walked to the desk, tapped a few keys, and gave up after finding it unresponsive. He didn't seem surprised.
"This is your doing, isn't it? Some hacker trick? So, what's next? Dig a hole and blow down the wall? Don't bother. If you make any rash moves, the consequences will be on you!" Helton shouted angrily.
Jubal glanced at Jack, who gestured for him to proceed. Per Dana Mosier's instructions, trust-building was critical. Switching negotiators mid-process could be detrimental.
Jubal nodded, held down the microphone button, and spoke. "Mr. Helton, this is FBI Agent Jubal Valentine. I'm here to communicate with you. We'll do everything we can to help find your daughter.
"But, Mike, trust goes both ways. As a father myself, I understand your actions. You sought help from the NYPD and were ignored. That was wrong, and I won't deny it. But that was then. Now, you're dealing with the FBI, and we're different. I hope you can see that."
Helton, who had been pacing, stopped and leaned against the wall, spreading his hands. "Alright. Different. FBI. Let's talk. What do you want to know?"
"At this moment, we've deployed numerous agents to search for Stephanie. But we need your help. Please provide as much information as possible, down to the smallest detail," Jubal urged.
Jack gave him a thumbs-up, acknowledging his good start. Establishing trust was vital, especially given the tight 2-hour deadline. The key now was to secure more time.
Helton hesitated, then began to speak hesitantly. "As far as I know, Stephanie left home around 7 PM three weeks ago. She said she was going to the store and never came back. I've been searching for her ever since. No one believes me..."
As his voice grew louder, he started gesturing wildly with the gun. Jubal quickly interrupted to calm him. "Alright, Mike. The past is behind us. The FBI is now officially handling this case, so the situation is different.
"Our mission is to see it through, no matter what obstacles we face. So why not open the door and let Chloe go? Her father is just like you—desperate to have his daughter back. Chloe has nothing to do with your situation."
Jack opened his mouth to object but was too late. Empathy tactics required gradual progression, not diving straight into high-stakes demands. Starting with an impossible request, then lowering the stakes, might work in some cases, but this wasn't one of them.
As expected, Helton's emotions flared again. "No! I can't do that. If I let her go, you'll stop looking for Stephanie. You'll just say I'm crazy, and she ran away on her own!"
Jubal quickly responded, "No, no. I promise we'll find Stephanie. But your actions are draining our resources. The agents here could be out looking for her—"
"Shut up!" Helton roared, cutting him off. "You're good with words, Valentine, but save it. You have 1 hour and 35 minutes left to find my daughter. If you don't, Chloe dies.
"I have no choice. Understand? I know you see me as a raving lunatic, so stop pretending to care and go find my daughter!"
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