One excellent thing about not being rich, not being prominent, not being a soldier in the Mideast, and not being someone who would ever act on the decidedly bad idea of setting sail in a skiff off the coast of Somalia, is that I am unlikely to ever find myself a kidnap victim.
Fortunately, for those who might find themselves in dire Straits of Hormuz, there are firms that specialize in the counter- and post-kidnap biz, and The Economist recently gave them a brief nod.
Their services are not for the feint of pocketbook. Fees start at a $3k per diem, which doesn’t sound all that steep until you consider that negotiations can drag on for quite a while. Then there’s the ransom to bag up and deliver. (By the way, if you work for an NGO that’s active in kidnap-prone places, you’re probably SOL when it comes to a ransom: they believe that paying up just spreads the epidemic.)
I can certainly imagine more dreadful jobs – like recovering dead bodies that have been left a tad too long in the heat and humidity, but not long enough to go skeleton (on my mind because I just finished a Mary McGarry Morris novel where one such body factored in) – but working on kidnappings is right up there. Perhaps because I’m lazy and superficial, and because I don’t have a soldier of fortune bone in my body, I like my work to involve at least a wee small modicum of fun and yucks, and a lot less stress. (One thing to worry about the details of a product launch; quite another to make sure the suitcase full of unmarked currency was dropped in the right place.)
The job of kidnap responder would, of course, not be without its satisfactions. Recovering a victim has to be satisfying. But recovery a victim’s body, less so. And if you think you have some miserable colleagues, just think of the denizens of this murky and violent world. We’re not exactly talking The Ransom of Red Chief here. (Do kids even read this corn-pone O. Henry story anymore? You know, the one about the hapless kidnappers who nab a spoiled brat and end up paying his father to take him back. Kidnapping sure was more better fun a hundred years ago.)
Naturally, The Economist article piqued my interest in the companies that provide kidnap management services. One such firm is Terra Firma Risk Management, which in plummy British understatement positions its services thus:
However well prepared and risk-aware a client might be, a kidnap will always come as a very unwelcome surprise.
“Unwelcome surprise.” As we say in the good old U S of A: no shit, Sherlock.
Those responsible for managing the kidnap will find themselves faced with a number of daunting and time-consuming challenges.
I get that it would be daunting, but would those having to deal with the kidnapping actually think of it as a time-consuming, with the implicit notion of time-consuming drag? I suppose if it were your CEO and he was a colossal pain in the butt, and you had to deal with his kidnapping on top of all your other regular, every day tasks, I guess that you might consider it a time-consuming drag. It might get in the way of your work-life balance to have to add fretting about your boss (even if you liked him or her) sitting around some squalid room with a bag over his head. And where would managing the kidnapping crisis fall in your list of objectives? Would it impact your bonus? Me, if I were writing the web copy for Terra Firma I think I’d swap out time-consuming and swap in lengthy.
Whether lengthy or time consuming, I really don’t think that this would be much of a factor in deciding to seek outside help. How many people – other than those working for risk management firms, or with 30 years experience with the kidnapping detail at the FBI - actually have the knowledge and skills to do this sort of work to being with?
These include dealing with the kidnappers themselves, as well as third parties such as home and foreign government agencies and the media.
I don’t imagine that those faced with responding to a kidnap have to do much of a job convincing someone that outsourcing is the way to go.
The victim’s family or victims’ families must also be protected and cared for, and normal commercial and family life carried on as much as possible.
Well, I can see “normal commercial life” carrying on, but, other than for babes in arms, I can’t see that, except on the scrimmiest of surfaces, that much “normal family life” is going to be happening when a spouse, parent, son, daughter, et al. has been kidnapped. (I had a Latin American classmate in grad school whose father, a wealthy businessman, had been kidnapped, and not much “normal family life” – other than going through the motions – occurred while his father was held.) Over time, I suppose, you can get used to anything, and the all consuming “what’s happening to him now” worries must eventually turn into partially consuming “what’s happening to him now” worries.
Anyway, I’m sold on outsourcing. As long as an enterprise or a family has the wherewithal to pay.
And speaking of paying. The Economist mentioned (without naming names) that some kidnap response firms charge their clients a percentage of the ransom. Of course, no firm would want to get the reputation for having overpaid for the return of dear old Mr. Big, but this practice does seem a tad morally hazardous to me.
Not that I plan on becoming a kidnapping victim any time soon. Not a status I ever expect to achieve or have thrust upon me.
Still, an interesting business to think about, along with all the others – like for profit-correctional facilities – are put in the position of rooting for bad things to happen.
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