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alive. In spite of the fact that nobody could see the Green Line and it held no official status, it was one of the most important borders on the African Horn. With the economy of that region broken, desperation lurked amid civil chaos. The kidnapping itself was a crime of opportunity. Erik’s and Jessica’s good intentions had somehow exposed her vulnerability and desperate people had seized upon that.
    Paranoia became the order of the day.

CHAPTER THREE
    O CTOBER 1993
    Jessica Buchanan was fourteen years old and living in rural Ohio in October of 1993 when the “Blackhawk Down” ambush of two American Special Forces choppers took place in Mogadishu, Somalia. The helicopter crews had thought themselves protected because they were in the country to guarantee aid shipments to the people. Instead, Delta Team Master Sergeant Randy Shughart was pinned down there and used up his ammo to provide as much covering fire as he could for team members who were too badly wounded to defend themselves. Shughart died without knowing he would be awarded the Medal of Honor.
    In the following days, the Western world blanched at the searing images of dead American soldiers dragged through the streets, bodies violated by screaming mobs of young Somali men. It’s natural to imagine the emotional effect on the American people because the dead men were their own, but as it happened, there were other places around the world where private citizens were also appalled and greatly concerned.
    One of those places was in Sweden, in the household of JohanLandemalm and his wife, Lena, their young daughter, Linnea, and their seventeen-year-old son, Erik. The household took sharp note of that story because Erik was already considering a life in international aid work. Thus Somalia’s surprise failure of money-and-food diplomacy was of special concern to him.
    Erik had the same view shared by many people of the region, namely a personal appreciation for negotiated positions, instead of the confront-and-conquer mentality. He loved the image of well-negotiated agreements forming paper bridges to carry opposing sides away from the sort of warlike contests that get sponsored by whichever hothead is in charge.
    His concern was a natural product of his upbringing. Erik’s parents were not only vocal supporters of beleaguered people throughout their own country, they also held sympathies that extended to any group of nonwarlike people. They amplified Erik’s concern by observing that the tragedy went much deeper than a loss of American soldiers; the ambush spoke out loudly against the rule of sanity and reason. The rule of mob violence called into serious question an entire system for capping the wells of passion in international conduct.
    His background supported that worldview. Swedes have survived on the concept of neutrality, and have long kept a wary eye on international politics, living as they do in a small country vulnerable to European warfare.
    Unlike other passing news stories, this one got to Erik. He was otherwise consumed with his junior year of high school, in days filled with his passion for soccer and for spending time with a wide circle of friends, so remote disasters seldom had much impact on his life. This one was different. The Somali massacre made his dream seem naïve, and he hated the feeling that it was merely some callow, boyish fantasy to think he might one day actually work to help boost the process of peaceful reason among nations.
    In spite of the distances and cultural differences separatingErik’s family in Sweden and Jessica’s in America, his parents were just as concerned about instilling a strong moral code in their children as Jessica’s folks were. His father worked as a specialist machinist in the nuclear industry and his mother taught special education programs for adults. While the driving motive in Erik’s life wasn’t a matter of spirituality, as it was for Jessica’s Christian family, it was strongly propelled