NOTHING

By Chick Gallin

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2012 Chick Gallin
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4669-4144-1

Chapter One

The Terwilliger family—Robert (the father); Roberta (the mother); and their four children, Bruce, fifteen years old; Angela, eight years; Bobby, five years; and Billy, three years of age—lived in this five-bedroom apartment with the feeling of total security up until that very moment. That's when Robert had an eerie feeling that their lives were about to be turned upside down, and he would unbelievably be right.

He motioned his family to stop and wait by the front entrance, holding his hand up like a crossing guard at a school crossing.

He walked stealthily through the short foyer to the large living room—which was furnished with a large oversized wraparound soft leather sofa accompanied by two large, also soft, leather reclining chairs and a fifty-four-inch flat screen television set that was the focal point of the room. It was perched above a modest fireplace at one end of the room. There were occasional tables scattered fashionably around the room to accommodate any assortment of books, games, and/or papers that might be utilized by the large family.

He continued through to the dining room, skirted the rectangular dining room table, and slowly approached the section of the house that housed the five bedrooms and his office and workout room.

His apprehensions were not unfounded as he was faced with a rather large figure of a man with a black stocking mask; his eyes were like two burning coals, which seemed to give off a scalding heat. He also had a rather menacingly large automatic pistol aimed squarely between his eyes.

"Shhh," a gravely voice warned him. "No noise or you won't make it out of this room. Your family has already been taken into the other room, so if you value their lives, you won't make a sound or any trouble, you got that?"

Trying to control his own voice, Robert said, "Okay, take what you want, but please, don't hurt them. I'll do whatever you say."

"Right, I know you will, Mr. Terwilliger."

There was another man in his office going through his desk and not being too neat about it. There was another ski-masked man seated at his computer who, at Robert's arrival, turned and said, "Good, you're here, I need your password, Mr. Terwilliger, so be a good man and give it to me ... now."

"I-I don't know it, my wife has it, it's her computer, and I don't use it myself."

"Well, get her ass in here and you stand by the door so she doesn't get any funny ideas," and as he said this, he brandished a large eight-inch barreled revolver that had a hole at the end that looked like the entrance to the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.

"Please, what can you find on her computer, it's only used for her chatting and shopping. There's nothing ... on there that's of any use to anyone. Why don't you tell me what you want so I can get it for you and you can leave us alone."

"Look, I'm not going to tell you again. Get her in here, or I'm going to have my man out there do something you won't like very much to your kids, get it?" he said very menacingly.

"Okay, okay, just a minute, Roberta, would you please come into the office, please."

A moment later a rather nervous and confused Roberta walked in and gasped when she saw her husband being held with a large gun at his head.

"Robert, what's happening? The kids are out there with a person who doesn't look like he's human. What's happening?"

"Lady, shut up," the man at the computer said softly but with a hint of irony in his voice.

"Get over here and get me into your system, and don't be smart and fool around with it, do you understand ... especially now that you know we really mean business?"

Chapter Two

Roberta was a nice-looking woman, not a ravishing beauty by today's standards, like the one's that strode the models' runways, but not bad at all. She had a fairly trimmed figure, attributed to three days a week with a physical trainer and given that she had four children in fairly close order. She didn't seem to be a woman who would put up much resistance, but she was after all a mother whose children were in danger and it engendered a definite mode in her likened to a mother lioness when her brood was threatened.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Who are you to come into our house and put guns in our faces? Get the hell out! Robert, do something ... do something."

"Lady, I said shut the hell up or your husband and those kids you so adore will get seriously hurt and you yourself won't be left out and first we will make you watch! Now shut up and do as I tell you. Get over here and get me into your system ... do it now."

Screwing up her pretty face, she bared her teeth and shouted, "I won't, you better leave now, I won't help you, so forget about it, and if you touch my kids, you'll be sorrier than hell, I promise you that."

The man at the computer quickly rose and approached her, and without any warning, backhanded across her mouth. She reeled backward as tears sprang forth from her eyes.

"Lady, I said shut up! Now get over here."

She was still reeling from the blow and was holding on to a bookcase by the far wall. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but it only caused it to hurt all the more.

"Bobby, do as they say, it's not worth it to antagonize them. Give them the password, what is there to hide?" her husband pleaded.

"Yeah, Bobby, do as I say and don't bug me, or you will be sorrier than you are right now, so get to it."

Little did her husband know that Roberta Trewilliger was an agent who had the specific job of keeping tabs on various institutions in the city that had come under suspicion with the Securities and Exchange Commission and was in possession of some highly confidential information and documentation for them—in particular, a dossier that could potentially put some rather large players in jail for a very long, long time. This was not something that her husband was remotely aware of, so he wasn't too concerned with what was on her computer.

In dire fear for her family, Roberta was unable to resist at this time; she was trying to figure a way of erasing the information before the thug could stop her but couldn't think of a way ... yet.

She moved unsteadily to the desk and sat down at the computer. With a few deft strokes, she opened her e-mail account. "There," she said defiantly.

"Good, now get up and go back into the other room and don't cause any more trouble, my guy out there is not as patient and kind like I am."

Roberta hoped that the encrypted information was too deeply imbedded in her system and that the hacker would not be able to break the code. She knew Robert was of no help to them at this point, and they would not harm him.

"Bob, you don't mind me calling you Bob, do you? Whatever, I don't care much if you do or not. Anyway, you have much more than we took, but you don't know it yet. If we can't get what we want from your wife's system, you are facing a grim future, do you understand?"

Robert could only nod his head, swallowing the lump that had been growing in the back of his throat, knowing that this was not even close to being over.

Up to this point, neither the leader nor his assistants had called each other by name, and Robert was in such a state and turmoil he hadn't noticed it yet. From the initial intrusion in their lives until now, he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he really didn't know what they wanted and who they were. The only thing he knew was that they seemed to know him, his wife, and their...