Dana was six feet four, walked into the room shivering slightly hunched on the balls of his feet, which clad in the clothes he was wearing when he was kidnapped; winter in North Korea didn’t suit him well. His capture was a lean young woman with an angular face, a pronounced underbite, and a rapid-fire way of talking.
She smiled at him and sucked him in. “There is a reason you are here and your father is not you were selected for your insatiable need for attention, and your father’s paranoid need for secrecy. I know you like opera so do I; my favorite is “Faust.”
All Dana could wish for was that he could get out of there without being part of Mozart’s Requiem. He knew the emotional price for his father was steep. His father once told him “Have the skin of a hippopotamus, the cunning of a fox, and the loyalty of a rat and you will survive in this world.”
Dana understood that rats when they are starving eat their young, and Dana was aware his father wouldn’t hesitate to give him up if he felt the risk of saving him didn’t outweigh leaving him to die.
Tales Of Kinsea 