Ryan walked along the opposite side of the street from his cousin’s house. He decided to move briskly past without stopping to get a sense of whether Jarrod was home. On his first pass, he noticed the bike on the porch but still had no information about a car in the garage. There were lights on, suggesting a presence, but he considered this inconclusive.
On his second pass, Ryan crossed the street for a closer look. He detoured quickly to the side of the house, entering the backyard through an unlocked gate. From the back of the house he had a good view through the kitchen window, only partially veiled by window blinds. He noted that the kitchen appeared very efficient, with a variety of cooking utensils hanging from a range hood above the stove. A Krupp’s espresso machine also stood prominently to one side of the main kitchen counter. Jarrod apparently shared his affinity for strong coffee.
Ryan studied the kitchen view for several minutes, hoping to get a glimpse of his cousin. He noticed a reflection cast upon the glossy surface of the kitchen door, which was standing open against the wall. He figured the reflection came from a television set somewhere in the adjoining room. This buoyed his hope that someone in the house was watching TV. He moved cautiously up the three brick steps onto the back porch.
Ryan’s heart was pounding as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He could actually hear his own heartbeat, his senses unusually acute. He thought about the many times he had dreamed of this moment following his divorce from Sarah. He wondered if he was really prepared to confront Jarrod for all the torment he had caused. The anxiety of addressing each of the past transgressions was inescapable.
Ryan decided to try the back door. He cautiously pulled open the screen and put his hand gently on the knob of the kitchen door. Slowly he turned the knob, and to his surprise, it wasn’t locked. He was free to enter the kitchen if he so dared, but hesitated, considering his options. Entering the kitchen presented the chance of catching his cousin off-guard, watching television in the next room. If the assumption was correct, he hoped to subdue Jarrod before he mounted a defense or fled the house.
Ryan gathered his courage, steeled his nerves, and slowly walked into the kitchen, ignoring the voice in his head telling him not to proceed. He was relieved that the door didn’t squeak, and very slowly closed it behind him. He was standing in Jarrod’s kitchen; his legs and especially his hands were shaking with nervous energy. All of his senses were hypersensitive: The clock on the stove ticked louder than he thought possible; the hair on the back of his neck bristled, alert to the dry warmth of the kitchen; his nostrils picked up the sweet smell of cinnamon wafting through the air. He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt, but knew there was no turning back. This was the moment he had waited years to face, yet he was almost paralyzed with fear. He took a gentle step toward the living area, trying to make his 250-pound body as stealthy as possible, but each step became excruciating.
Finally, he was able to cautiously peek into the living room. The television was tuned to a documentary but his vantage point didn’t allow a full view of the room. He still couldn’t locate Jarrod. There was a dark hallway he needed to cross for a better look, so he took a step forward to reorient himself. As he did so, he heard a man’s familiar voice say, “Hello, cousin.”
Ryan yelled, clutching the back of his neck as searing pain shot through his head, knocking him off his feet. He lay on the floor, jerking with involuntary convulsions as spasms of pain shot through his body. He had been Tazered by someone standing in the darkened hallway. Lying on his back, unable to move, he was only partially aware of being dragged further down the hallway before he lost all consciousness.
Ryan woke sometime later, disoriented and uncomfortable. At first his eyes wouldn’t focus and he couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing, but eventually gathered that he was seated in a room full of computer equipment, his hands and feet held fast to a sturdy chair with plastic snap ties that were much too strong to break. A strip of adhesive tape across his mouth kept him from spitting out the rag that was stuffed inside. He felt like gagging as he struggled to break his restraints. Then he slowly recalled what brought him here, and wished he hadn’t ignored the small voice that warned of this eminent danger. He felt like prey that had fallen into the lair of a predator, only this predator cunningly expected the prey to arrive.
“Well, well, well…look who’s awake,” Jarrod Conrad glibly said. “When you decided to break into my house, I’ll bet you didn’t imagine you’d end up in this predicament, did you? You’re just as stupid and predictable as ever, Ryan. What did you think…you’d walk in and beat me up like the old days? Did you really think I wouldn’t be prepared for you to show up here? My kiss-ass graduate student played you like a fiddle; Millicent did exactly as I asked,” Jarrod scoffed, peering into Ryan’s eyes, about three inches from his face.
“Mmmh…mmuag…aah,” Ryan tried to shout, still struggling beneath his restraints, the veins in his neck and forehead popping from the strain. He was overcome with rage, realizing that Jarrod had once again gained the upper hand. He felt stupid and humiliated.
“Now, now, settle down, Cousin,” Jarrod said, patting him lightly on the cheek. “It won’t do for you to pop a blood vessel before we have a little fun. We’ve got much to discuss…wouldn’t you say? But, oh, what a pity, you can’t say anything now, can you? So you just have a listen before the police haul your sorry ass to jail. I really can’t believe how easy you’ve made this, Ryan.”
“Mmmhh…aaauh…” Ryan vainly fought to holler. He was so agitated that the restraints on his wrists were cutting into his skin. He rocked back and forth in the chair, trying to free himself with all his strength. His effort was useless; Jarrod had carefully prepared for his capture, having the Tazer and snap ties ready for use. Ryan was thoroughly at his cousin’s mercy.
“Okay, here’s how this’ll go down, Cousin,” Jarrod began again. “First, I want to know what happened to the equations you stole from my office. By now you’ve undoubtedly figured out they’re useless. Why else would you be here, right? You’re such a fool, Ryan; you always have been. You didn’t think I’d leave everything in my office without a contingency plan, did you? If you know anything about me at all, it’s that I’m suspicious and thorough. So…whoever has the plans knows it won’t work without the key, eh?”
Ryan briefly paused from straining. What Jarrod was saying caught his attention. Listening to the precautions taken to protect his discovery was not out of character. Ryan realized that whoever had stolen this data was going to be disappointed. This was a provocative thought and he stared at Jarrod questioningly.
“And secondly,” Jarrod continued, noticing the puzzled look on his cousin’s face, “I want to know how you plan to use my machine. I’m sure your technical people have diagnosed that the machine’s capacity is directly related to scale-the bigger the object, the more nuclear fuel is needed to overcome its gravity. What’s your cockeyed plan for getting the fuel you’ll need? Honestly, Ryan…I gave you more credit than this. Do you hate me so much that you’ve chanced going to prison? You won’t be such a big man in the slammer, Cuz. Someone’ll make you his bitch.”
“Auugh…mmmmh…” Ryan kept murmuring, rejoining his effort to break the restraints. Sweat was running down his forehead, the exertion against his bonds beginning to take a toll.
“Easy now, damn it. You really should get a handle on your temper. Now listen to me, Cuz. I’m going to take off the tape, but if you get belligerent…it’s going right back on, understand? Blink once if you agree,” he instructed, looking to see if Ryan would concur.