oneiriad:

The phone rings in the middle of the night, and he reaches out to answer it almost automatically, not quite awake, as a voice at the other end snarls: “We have your little girl! Be at this location with the ransom in 48 hours or you’ll never see her alive again!” And then the person hangs up before the man has a chance to demand: “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

Len stares at the burner phone in his hand.

“Who was that?” Mick grumbles behind him, not bothering to even move from where he’s made himself comfortable under the covers.

“Wrong number,” Len answers after some thought – he’s reasonably sure that he doesn’t have anybody who could be referred to as “your little girl”, though he is going to make certain of that first of all. He’s pretty sure whatever child has been taken, it’s none of his business.

Except somewhere there’s a child in the hands of a kidnapper so incompetent that he can’t even call the right number to make his ransom demand. And an incompentent kidnapper is not a good way to ensure that that child gets a long and healthy life.

Which is why Len evades Mick’s arm as it tries to wrap around him and haul him back down in the bed and sleep, rising and telling his friend to “Get up. We’ve got work to do,” before picking up another burner phone and dialling Hartley Rathaway’s number…

48 hours later

There’s a warehouse on the bad side of town.

There is a kidnapper in said warehouse. He’s currently surrounded by several very scary people. It is far from certain that he’ll survive the night.

“Where is she?” the man in the parka – the man the kidnapper has seen on the news more than once, the supervillain that even the superhero couldn’t stop – demands.

The kidnapper answers.

The man turns, gesturing to one of his companions to follow. She does, not walking, but in short, controlled teleports.

The girl is tied to a chair in a disused office. She’s been crying and when Captain Cold himself walks through the door and kneels down in front of her, pulling down his goggles to look at her, she can’t help but whimper.

“Hello, princess. Please don’t cry. Nobody’s going to hurt you now. We’re just going to get you untied, and then Peek-a-Boo here is going to take you home, okay? Can you tell us where home is?”

But the girl is so young and so exhausted that she can’t. Leaving Len with a tiny kidnapping victim clinging to him and wrapped in his parka, while his plan to get her home safely and with a minimum of fuss has failed. And it’s not like he can just walk into the nearest police station and hand in the child – “Felicia,” she tells him, her name is Felicia. Shawna could do it, but…

And then Len digs out his phone and calls one Barry Allen. A few minutes later, a red lightning whirls through the warehouse – circles the kidnapper and his captors once before heading up the stairs and stopping in front of a supervillain with a tiny girl in his arms.

Handing her over proves to be – difficult. For such a tiny little thing, Felicia has a surprisingly strong grip. Or maybe Captain Cold is simply reluctant to let go of her.