Tom Polo sat in the dim light of his room, eyes narrowed in thought as he leaned back in his chair. The events of the evening weighed heavily on his mind. Beside him, Gregor shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension but waiting patiently. Tom's voice finally broke the silence.
"I already analyzed the crime scene while we were attending to my mom," Tom said slowly, his tone serious. "There were no clues. No footprints, no dropped items, nothing that could give us a hint." He tapped a finger on the edge of his desk, his mind racing through every detail they had witnessed. "It's like the intruder knew exactly what they were doing and left no trace behind."
Gregor frowned. "So what does that leave us with?"
Tom's eyes narrowed. "There's only one other option left, we check the security cameras. Maybe we can find footage of the event, see who broke in."
Gregor nodded, but something told him it would be futile, if the kidnapper was smart enough to find and remove the tracker, he would probably be smart enough that avoid cameras. Tom turned to his computer and started the process. He opened multiple tabs and programs, fingers flying over the keyboard, bypassing firewalls, decrypting encrypted data streams. The glow of the screen reflected on his face, his eyes sharp and focused.
He first accessed the cameras inside the house, hoping to catch some clue. But as the time of the break-in approached, the screens flickered and switched to static. A wave of frustration washed over him. "They've disabled the cameras," he muttered under his breath.
Not giving up, Tom moved on to the exterior cameras, the ones monitoring the street, the driveway, the neighboring yards. He hacked into each feed one by one, but the same pattern emerged. All the footage around the time of the attack was corrupted, nothing but grainy static. It was as if the intruder had planned this in advance, disabling any chance of being recorded.
Anger surged through Tom's veins. Without thinking, he swept his mouse off the table. The device flew through the air and smashed hard into the wall nearby, shards of plastic and metal scattering across the floor with a harsh clatter.
Gregor flinched at the noise. "Tom," he said cautiously, "maybe you should calm down. We'll find something."
Tom didn't respond. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "I need to clear my head," he said firmly. "I'm going for a walk."
Gregor stepped forward, concern evident on his face. "Can I come with you? We can think better together."
Tom shook his head. "No. This time I need to be alone, to think deeply, without distractions."
Gregor bit his lip but respected Tom's wishes. "Alright. Just don't be out too long."
Without another word, Tom grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the house. The cool night air hit his face, bracing and sharp. He walked quickly but not recklessly, heading toward the park nearby.
He had a favorite tree there, a sprawling old oak with thick branches and leaves that rustled softly in the night breeze. It was his refuge, the place where he could sit for hours, lost in thought, plotting his next moves. He reached the tree, settled down beneath its canopy, and let the world fade away.
His mind raced. Who was this kidnapper? What was their motive? Why attack now, and why target his family? Every possibility seemed both plausible and terrifying, but nothing fit neatly.
As he pondered these questions, his phone buzzed sharply against the rough bark beside him. Tom instinctively pulled it out of his pocket. Before he could unlock it, his voice rang out sharply toward a rustling bush behind him.
"I know you're there, Gregor. No hiding now." His tone was half teasing, half warning. "With my new abilities, my senses are sharper than ever."
Gregor stepped out from the shadows, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I have to protect you, even when you don't want to be protected," he said with a small smile.
Tom gave a faint smile in return but didn't take his eyes off the phone. "Alright, who is it?" Gregor asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Tom frowned. "I don't know," he admitted, "but I can bet it's the kidnapper."
He pressed the answer button, and a distorted voice filled the speaker. It was the kidnapper.
Tom's expression hardened immediately. "Do you want ransom?" he demanded, voice steady despite the shock.
"No," the kidnapper replied smoothly. "My goals are far beyond paltry money."
Tom's brow furrowed deeper. "If you wanted money, you'd be demanding it now. So what do you want?"
The voice was cold and calculated. "If you noticed, I waited until you were outside the house before I called."
Tom's mind raced as he realized the significance of that. "So you knew I wouldn't be able to triangulate your location."
"Exactly," the kidnapper confirmed, voice calm and confident. "I'm not a fool. You won't catch me by mistakes or luck."
Tom's grip tightened on the phone. The kidnapper was smart, dangerously so. Whoever this was, they had planned this break-in and kidnapping with precision and skill.