Football Coach Kidnaps Player (M/Mm)

[Detective-Gag]

"We understand that this puts you in a somewhat awkward position," the man sitting opposite to Ken Weston stated.

The middle-aged man in a black polo shirt & khakis, with short-cut brown hair nervously wrung his black cap in his hands as he sat upon the couch. "It's one of my players," Ken responded, not able to fully look the other man in the eye. "I'm not sure that I can do this."

The visitor nodded. "You're having second thoughts," the man told him. "But understand two things: you owe my boss quite a substantial amount of money; and with that loan comes interest...interest that you haven't managed to pay us."

"The money will come; it just that it comes very slowly..."

"...and not soon enough for my employer," the visitor finished, with a wave of the hand. "This favor will settle that debt."

Ken grimaced. "But still..."

"Which brings me to the second thing: we do not intend to harm the boy," the visitor clarified, sensing the football coach's discomfort. "We merely need to keep him detained in order to "persuade" his father into accepting a deal that he's been, shall we say, "resistant" to accept."

Ken Weston slowly nodded, sighed, and placed his coach's hat back on his head...he was the assistant coach to a football team at a private school for students who typically had influential or wealthy parents.

That hardly paid the bills, however, and Ken had made the difficult decision of borrowing money from a local "organization"...he'd managed to pay off the loan, but the sizeable interest that they had demanded had still been forthcoming. Initially, Ken feared that the gangsters would send some bruiser over to break his legs...instead, an average-looking man in a business suit had knocked on his door, offering him an alternative.

It was just a shame that the alternative was kidnapping.

The visitor then stood up from the chair. "Excellent," he said, leaving behind a briefcase for the assistant coach. "Once you have the boy secured, give us a call...you know the number."

The visitor left Coach Weston in his living room, and took his leave out the front door of his home.

Shaking his head, Ken took out his cell phone and dialed a different number. "Hello, Darren?" he said, as he listened to the young man's greeting on the other end of the call. "Yes, before the morning practice tomorrow, I need some help gathering the equipment...there isn't much; but if you don't by stopping by my house on the way to the field..."

--

Darren walked the length of Coach Weston's driveway, the morning air still a bit brisk despite the sun having risen for the last hour or so. The black gym shorts, young man was garbed in his football uniform, a blue jersey with white accents, his surname & number emblazoned on the front and back, with long white knee socks & cleats.

The dark-haired football player knocked on the assistant coach's door, expecting to help him carry some equipment to the practice pitch. Apparently, Coach Weston had been having car trouble; and the two would have to haul the equipment to the field, which wasn't that far off from where the man lived.

There was some movement inside the home, and the door unlocked & opened to reveal Coach Weston standing before the young man.

"Darren!" the man greeted. "Thanks again for stopping by."

"No problem, coach," Darren assured. "What do we got to carry?"

"About three duffel bags worth," Coach Weston answered, as he invited Darren into his foyer & shut the door. "Just some extra cones & spare footballs, nothing too taxing...at least, not between the two of us."

The boy looked around. "They in the garage?" he inquired, seeing nothing nearby.

Coach Weston shook his head. "I have them downstairs," he said. "I was going over formations in my office last night...shall we?"

The duo went down Coach Weston's stairs to the basement, with Darren descending first, and the assistant coach not far behind. Upon reaching the lower level, Darren spied the football equipment piled in the corner.

"I'll grab the bags," Coach Weston told his player, who headed towards his office in the opposite corner. "Just start grabbing about twenty cones or so, and we'll get packing."

"Got it, coach," Darren said, and made for the equipment pile.

Pushing some boxes aside, the young man began stacking some orange cones...when he detected a slight movement from behind him.

"Coach, is that you...MMPH!"

Darren was taken by surprise as he felt some kind of cloth clamp down over his mouth; and a strong arm wrap itself around his torso.

"Mmm-mmph!" issued a muffled cry, as Darren caught the faint odor of something vaguely sweet-smelling fill his nostrils, and his words were stifled by the rag pressed over his mouth. Initially, adrenaline had spiked throughout the boy's system at the sudden ambush, and the well-conditioned athlete mustered a considerable resistance against his attacker; attempting break away from the grapple.

But whatever smell that Darren had caught abruptly took effect...and suddenly Darren felt very, very tired; as his muscles sagged & his visioned slowly darkened. Unable to hardly move around at all now, a hazy Darren felt himself slowly lowered to the carpeted floor as the cloth was pulled away from his face.

"I'm so sorry," came a voice, which sounded very far away to Darren's ears, as the world danced in the corners of his vision.

"Wha...?" was the only response Darren could offer, as he slowly faded into unconsciousness...

--

Ken Weston sighed as he watched his player go to sleep on the basement floor. Evidently, whatever chloroform or knockout solution the gangster had provided to him had been effective, as Darren did not stir.

Ken then took a length of rope...another "gift" from his visitor...and proceeded to tie the young man's hands behind his back. Once finished with that, Ken then dragged a chair over to the center of the basement, and carefully scooped Darren up from the ground & balanced him against the back of the seat. He then on to tie additional rope around boy's arms and the chair, holding him against it, before tying the football player's knees & ankles together. Now fully tied, Darren's unconscious head drooped over his chest, as he snored.

Ken was wracked with guilt over this deception & subsequent kidnapping...but he'd already crossed the point of no return, it seemed.

He took out the cell phone...the separate one he'd been using for correspondence with the gangsters...and started to dial the number to let them know he'd captured the boy.

Glancing back over at the tied up player, however, Ken feared that Darren might awaken and cause a ruckus...reluctantly, Ken went digging around in the sporting equipment, and found a white bandana: folding it into a band, and went behind where Darren sat and tied the cloth over his mouth in a gag.

Satisfied that the young man would now not immediately be able to shout, Ken made the call on the cell phone.

"...you have the boy?" came a familiar voice.

"I do," Ken gulped, looking over at the hostage. "He's right here."

"Take a photo, and then send it," ordered the voice. "For assurance."

Ken held up the cell phone, centered the built-in camera on where Darren sat, and forwarded the image of his tied & gagged form to his contact.

"You did well," stated the man on the line. "Keep him like that until we get there; and we'll handle the rest of it."

The call disconnected, and Ken let out a breath of frustration. The deed, it seemed, was done.

--

Darren stirred from his slumber, feeling the cool air-conditioning of the basement.

There came a peculiar tingling sensation of pressure, however, around his wrists, arms & legs...as though something were constricting them.

Suddenly remembering the moments before he'd blacked out, Darren jolted in the chair where he now found himself, looking down at his bound knees & ankles, seeing the white ropes now circling them, and realizing that someone had tied him up!

"Whmnt hppmphd...!?" Darren tried to ask, finding that something halted his words, what felt like a cloth tied over his mouth. "Hmmph!"

"Sorry about this, Darren," came a voice from the corner of the room, and Darren looked over to see Coach Weston standing there awkwardly, wringing his hands in front of him.

"Cmnch Wstumph?" Darren mumbled, flabbergasted. "Whmph gmphing mmph?"

"I owe some men some money," Coach Weston tried to explain, as he saw Darren's confused reaction. "They have some business with your father, too...so they told me to bring you here for leverage."

"Lvergmph!?" Darren tried to respond, now fighting against the ropes that held him. "Whmph mm nm tmphd umph...?"

"They're going to ransom you to your father," Coach Weston went on. "They said I needed to keep you here until then...sorry about the ropes & gag; but I couldn't risk you escaping."

"Mmph!" Darren mumbled, wobbling in the chair. "Gmph mmph oumph umf hrmph...!"

"Just calm down," Coach Weston tried to persuade the young player. "Nobody is going to hurt you...they're just going to contact your dad with some demands."

Darren continued to struggle & grunt into the gag, and Coach Weston could only sigh as he began pacing the room nervously, as the boy watched him.

Minutes passed, and Darren tried to speak coherently to the assistant coach.

"Cmph ymph tkmph thmph mmph...?" Darren said, lifting his chin to indicate the gag.

Coach Weston considered for a moment, but decided to approach the captive player.

"No yelling," Coach Weston said, as he slipped the white bandana off of Darren's mouth.

"Why are you doing this?" Darren asked, once he could speak. "How come you owe money?"

"Had trouble paying for the house, among other things, after my divorce," Coach Weston admitted. "I got desperate, and took the cash from the wrong people."

Darren fidgeted in the chair. "Somebody will know I'm missing," Darren guessed.

"I think they expect the deal to be done by then," Coach Weston responded. "I called out sick for practice; and anybody at the field will just assume you didn't come." He shrugged. "Your parents will find out when the crooks call them."

There came the sound of the front door opening upstairs. "That should be them now," Coach Weston said, peering towards the basement steps.

Sure enough, a collection of masked men in suits came trudging down the stairs; and the one Ken recognized as the visitor from before strode over to greet him, only a narrow slit revealing his eyes through the black balaclava, while the other men approached Darren's chair.

"As promised," the leader said to Ken. "You may consider the debt paid, once we get this sorted.

The leader turned to the other masked men, who were inspecting Darren’s ropes. "Go ahead and keep the boy quiet," he told his men, as he got out his cell phone. "We'll notify his parents now."

The masked men nodded, one of them producing a roll of silver duct tape, and tearing off a strip.

“Coach Weston…GMPH!” Darren started to say, before the other masked man pushed a small cloth into his mouth.

Darren’s eyes widened in shock as the duct tape was pressed over his lips, sealing in the wad, and two more pieces were smoothed over the first. “Hmmph,” the boy mumbled in dismay.

The leader nodded in approval. “Go ahead and gag him, too,” he added, pointing a thumb in Ken’s direction. “And bind his hands.”

“What?” Ken exclaimed, eyes darting to the two goons as they approached him. “Why!?”

“I’m making a phone call,” the leader said simply. “I don’t wish to be interrupted.”

“I thought we had a deal,” Ken muttered, as his hands were pulled behind his back. “You told me my debt was…PMPH!”

Ken was silenced as one of the intruders tore off another piece of tape from the roll, and firmly placed it over his mouth, followed by two more, while the other man finished tying his wrists. A handkerchief was then produced, and pulled tightly over his taped mouth in a gag.

“Your debt is indeed paid,” the leader responded, watching Ken be restrained. “And now we’re keeping you out of our way.”

The leader then dialed the number for Darren’s parents, while the two hostages quietly observed.

“Good morning, Mrs. Schafer!” the leader said once the call was connected. “I had expected your husband, but perhaps I can start by giving you the details.”

There was a pause as the voice of Darren’s mother responded indecipherable through the phone, which led to the boy murmuring excitedly through the duct tape.

“Mmph! Hlmph mmph!”

“Yes, I regret to inform you that we have kidnapped your son, Darren,” the leader continued. “You might be hearing him right now.”

Another pause. “No, I’m afraid this isn’t a prank,” the leader answered, and walked into Ken’s office to continue the conversation, leaving the grumbling Darren & the standing Ken under guard.

Several minutes passed, and the leader returned to the room. Aiming the phone to where the wide-eyed Darren sat, he took a picture of the tied & gagged football player, sending it to the family.

“There is your proof,” the leader said, once the image was transferred. “We will be waiting for the confirmation that your husband has agreed to our terms. Then the boy will be released…and please; no authorities, or else.”

The leader ended the call, pocketing the cell phone. “Get the boy out of the chair; we’re taking him with us,” he told his men. “And then secure Mr. Weston to it.”

The white handkerchief was pulled back over Darren’s taped mouth, before the ropes holding the young man to the chair were removed, and the still-bound player was pulled to his feet.

“Get moving,” commanded one of the masked grunts, as he prodded the mumbling hostage along, forcing him to hop across the basement before he was shoulder-carried up the stairs.

Meanwhile, the other lackey pulled Ken Weston over to the chair, forcing him to sit down while he re-tied the rope around his chest and the back of the chair.

“Hmph!” Ken muttered through the gag, as his arms were pinned to their sides.

“Surely you didn’t think their wouldn’t be consequences for your poor choices, did you Mr. Weston?” the leader mocked dryly.

“Mmn dmnd evrmphing ymph askmphd,” Ken tried to say, as his legs were bound together with rope.

“Consider this plausible deniability,” the leader went on. “Should you be unable to escape, and the authorities find you here like this, you may tell them that you were coerced into luring the boy…a slight exaggeration; but it should suffice.”

“Mmph! Hmmph!” Ken Weston mumbled, as he twisted around in the ropes.

“Now, if you excuse us, we’ll need to deliver the boy Darren back to his family as soon as the money clears,” the leader said, as the two intruders took their leave…leaving the assistant football coach to struggle alone in his guilt.

[Red86]

Hummm, so Ken has plausible deniability but Darron knows he's involved. Quite the dilemma for Darren even if he knows why Ken was involved in his kidnapping. Probably very awkward should they resume regular life without one of them relocating another town.

Interesting story!!

[Smythdean]

This story is amazing.

Thank you for taking my idea and making an amazing story

[alkaid_]

oh lil darren...

im really wanna see him bound and gagged in his soccer uniform... hope his kidnappers dont forget the blindfoled,the kiddo must dont know where are they taken him...

great 1st chapter!!!!

[squirrel]

Fantastic story! I hope there will be the chapter two

[wataru14]

Wow! Great read! Looking forward to more!

[harveygasson]

Fun little story, great job

[DTaped79]

This was a cool story. Hope there's a continuation.

[ZiptieFanatic]

Ooo! Excited to see what happens next

[socjuc]

Great first chapter! Interesting how the coach was fooled and now too is a 'captive' of sorts. Looking forward to what happens next

[Detective-Gag]

More or less the ideal kidnapping scenario, for me!

Kudos!