Dateline NBC - Kidnapped

Episode Date: May 19, 2021

In this Dateline classic, 24-year-old Elisa Levy thinks she’s headed to a meeting about an environmental project. But the “meeting” is really a setup for abduction. Kate Snow reports. Originally aired on NBC on July 22, 2011.

She was young, worked hard, and loved adventure. One moment she had her whole life in front of her. The next. It's a gun. Yeah. At your neck. Abducted by strangers. He said, don't move, don't scream.

This U.S. citizen taken deep into the wilderness, chained to a tree, told there might be worse in store. Her family, out of their mind with worry. I couldn't believe it. The American embassy leaping into action. This is going to be a long process. It's not going to be solved overnight. But could she do anything to save herself? With a surprising tool, she set in motion a daring plan so you would unlock the lock while nobody was guarding you then one night in the darkness and I start seeing some flashlights was the nightmare over or about to start all over again I'm Lester hold it this is dateline here's Kate Snow with Kidnapped. We are with the girl. Elisa is with us, you understand?

A young woman held captive in the South American jungle, chained to a tree hundreds of miles from her family. She's such a good woman, and you feel really angry. You're like, you don't know what to do. Do you want her alive, or do you want her dead? Kidnappers had targeted her for a reason they thought an American family would pay up. How big an alarm bell goes off when an American is being held hostage. The U.S. government starts moving when an American is held hostage. She was only 24, but Elisa Levy lived to tell about an ordeal worse than most of us could ever imagine. Weeks of isolation, pain, and fear. I didn't want to die. I really want to try to do

something about it. This is a story of strength, stamina, and survival. How one young woman rose to a harrowing challenge. Elisa used every ounce of determination and creativity she had. She was willing to do anything, everything she could to keep her family and herself alive. In a sense, Elisa Levy comes from two different worlds. Her father, James Levy, is an American, born and raised on Long Island, just a few miles from New York City. Her mother, Alicia Ortiz, was an Ecuadorian schoolteacher. The two fell in love when James was a Peace Corps volunteer in the 1980s,

and they married soon after. I had no idea that I would marry a gringo. Their four children are all dual citizens of the U.S. and Ecuador. I had always thought that it would be better to bring the kids to the stage and bring them up in the stage. But this American dad found his family adored the rural, peaceful life in South America. James and his wife built a home in a clearing of the Ecuadorian jungle, just over the border from Colombia. They started an environmental group, Altropico, to protect the endangered rainforest all around them. Elisa, their eldest daughter, loved her life in the wilderness.

Tell me about Elisa. A beautiful, strong young woman. Very intelligent. Very focused on what she wanted to do. Even as a child, she was always interested in plants and flowers. Elisa's little brother and sister, Eddie and Maria. Since we were little, she was always like taking care of us. She was protective. Yeah. Elisa had a strong adventurous streak, always ready to find a new species of bird, explore a new patch of land. Her mother admired Elisa's spirit, but kept a watchful eye. Children are a mother's life. Yeah, you always want to protect your little girl,

right? That's what mothers do. Still, her mother was eager for Elisa to see the world, especially America. As a teenager, Elisa lived with family on Long Island, worked at Applebee's and Dunkin' Donuts. When she returned to Ecuador, she enrolled in Catholic University in the capital city, Quito, where she studied botany and biology. Her passion, the school bicycle club. She organized weekly races in the narrow streets of Quito, took long bike trips through the countryside.

Elisa's other passion was El Tropico, the environmental foundation started by her dad. After college, she volunteered there, taking school kids into the jungle, teaching them to identify Ecuador's hundreds of species of birds. Elisa's volunteer work with El Tropico took her from Quito to the place where she grew up, the north of Ecuador, near the Colombia border. The area's lush forests are home to a wide variety of tropical plants and birds,

but they can also be a habitat for criminals. Unfortunately, there is some serious crime issues here. Fernando Matus, born and raised in the Bronx, works for the U.S. State Department. At the time, he was the regional security officer in Ecuador, the top American law enforcement agent in the country. The northern border is an area that has a lot of security challenges. Outlaw paramilitary organizations in Colombia traffic in drugs and contraband and often use rural villages on the Ecuador side of the border to refuel. In 2009, the best-known group was called the FARC, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia. They held French politician Ingrid Bettencourt hostage in the jungle for six years.

But when you grow up somewhere, you don't necessarily see it the way outsiders do. The area where you were working has maybe a bad reputation for being dangerous, but you never felt in any danger. Not at all, no. That's why Elisa wasn't suspicious when a man from her hometown area called one day saying he was an official who wanted to start a bird project in another town near the Columbia border. Do you remember how you felt about that phone call? Was it odd? Was it normal? She told him she'd be in the area soon and she'd meet up with him if he sent a driver to pick her up. Saturday, October 17, 2009, one of Elisa's brothers dropped her off with the driver

of an Isuzu Trooper who was supposed to take her to the meeting. You pull up with your brother. You see the blue Trooper. You get out and get right in? Yeah. Still, as she drove off, she had her brother write down the Trooper's license plate number, just in case. At first, things seemed fine. The driver was calm and friendly. But about an hour into the trip, he picked up two strangers who said they needed a ride. But that's not what they wanted. He just points me with something here and says, don't move, don't scream, shut up, don't do anything. It's a gun.

Yeah. At your neck. Yeah. Coming up, Alyssa's family learns what's happened to her. And after a chilling phone call. Do you want her alive or do you want her dead? They wonder what can they possibly do to bring her home when Dateline continues? Saturday, October 17, 2009.

Elisa Levy, a 24-year-old U.S. citizen, was in the back of an SUV hurtling down dirt roads in remote Ecuador with a gun to her neck. But her family back in Quito didn't know a thing about it. Alas, they'd heard from her she was off to a meeting about tropical birds. When she didn't return to the city as scheduled or call, they started to worry. We thought it was an accident or something like that happened.

Amada's life, she couldn't get out of the town. A mudslide? Yeah, it's very common in the rural areas here. You know, you don't think the worst. Elisa's father, James, was in San Francisco at an environmental conference. The family didn't want to worry him, but after two days, they sent a panicked email. Would Elisa ever do that? Would she go away for two days without calling? No.

His first thought, that border region where El Tropico does its work, where his daughter was headed for that meeting. The area that we work in is kind of complicated. There's all kinds of things going on there. Complicated. Yeah. On Monday, October 19th,

two days after Elisa disappeared, her mom got a phone call from a stranger. He told me, don't worry, Elisa is okay. We have her in Colombia. The caller told her in no uncertain terms Elisa had been kidnapped. I said, why are you doing this to us? And the line cut. What is going through your head then? It made me feel horrible. And I threw the phone against the wall. I just said, what? I couldn't believe it because,

you know, it's not something that usually happens. Had you ever worried about her much? Or was she so independent and adventurous that you sort of thought, well, Elisa can take care of herself? I think that's one of the big mistakes I made, you know, that to work in this area that's such a complicated area for so many years and doing positive work with so many different communities on both sides of the border that, but everyone's like on our side. It was kind of an innocent, stupid way to look at things. Elisa's father got on the next plane back to Ecuador. It was time to take action. My first reaction was to try to deal with this on our own. The biggest question the family faced now

was one that wouldn't even occur to most Americans. Did it make sense to call in law enforcement? In Ecuador, many people don't trust the police. Even with a crime as serious as kidnapping, some Ecuadorians try to solve the problem themselves. But there is another option. The Ecuadorian police have an elite anti-kidnapping unit known as UNASE. 100 special agents trained to track kidnappers, help families through the harrowing process of negotiating a ransom, and also, whenever possible, launch rescue raids. We realized that we couldn't do it by ourselves. I mean, we need help.

With no other good choices, the Levis called UNASE. What's your name? Pepe, right? Call me Pepe. Pepe, that's the pseudonym he goes by, was the top UNASE agent assigned to Elisa's case. He asked us to hide his identity because he works undercover. We have 40 or 45 kidnappings annually, but we've got it under control. 40 to 45 a year?

Yes. But this case was different. The victim was a U.S. citizen. Pepe advised the Leies to contact the American embassy in Quito. When James made the call, he was put through to the top U.S. security official in Ecuador, Fernando Matus. How big an alarm bell goes off when an American is being held hostage. U.S. government starts moving when an American is held hostage, definitely. Quickly. Yeah. It's not unheard of for Americans to be kidnapped in Ecuador,

but usually they're quick jobs. A tourist in a taxi held for a few hours, forced to withdraw cash from ATMs. This case seemed far worse. God forbid that this is somehow associated with the FARC up in Colombia and the victim is going to be taken into a jungle and spend five years in a... Like baton court. Exactly.

Wednesday morning, October 21st, four days into Elisa's kidnapping, agents of the State Department, the FBI, and UNASE arrived at the Levy home. So we had to get them prepared mentally that, look, this is going to be a long process. It's not going to be solved overnight. The authorities told the Levyes they would send out investigators to try and track down Elisa's captors. But the most crucial work in solving an abduction is communicating with the kidnappers themselves. The ringleader had left a phone number with Elisa's mom. Who would make that call? The agents decided James Levy, who now goes by his

Spanish name Jaime, had the temperament to take on the delicate task. Jaime seemed to be able to handle it. It's an incredibly difficult thing to do, to talk to the kidnappers of your own child. Definitely. But the US and Ecuadorian agents were prepared to help. They brought sample scripts telling Jaime what he might expect his daughter's captors to say and what he should say in return. After a coaching session, he made the call, recorded by Unase. Hello? Hello, this is Jaime Levy. I'm searching for my daughter Elisa Levy. You're calling about the girl? Who are you? Why is this happening? Is she okay? We are with the girl. Elisa is with us. You understand?

Okay. What do you want? Look, she's fine. Everything is okay. Don't worry about that. Can I talk to her? No. She's not here right now. But she's fine. What's going on is, this is about money. We'll speak tomorrow. We can talk then about how much for the girl. The call lasted four and a half minutes.

The longest four and a half minutes of Jaime Levy's life. Were they angry with you? Were they polite with you? What were they like on the phone? Tough, angry, threatening. Do you want her alive or do you want her dead? How can you ask something like that? I want her alive. To keep himself from breaking down, Jaime avoided eye contact with his wife. I had to ask Alicia to go out of the room. It was difficult. Very difficult, you can imagine.

So you didn't cry, did you? Not during the phone call. No, not during the phone call. But that evening, when the agents filed out of the house, Jaime Levy sat in his study with a bottle of whiskey and wept. Coming up, terror in the jungle.

As her family pleads for her release, Alyssa's kidnappers grow increasingly menacing. The guys are saying, like, don't you ever think of screaming because we'll kill you. When Dateline continues. Four days had passed, and Elisa Levy's family in Quito was working feverishly for her release, bringing in law enforcement agents and opening phone negotiations with the kidnappers. Less than 200 miles away, but many worlds apart, Elisa was in a remote corner of Ecuador.

She couldn't know her family was fighting to free her. She only knew that the past four days had been the most painful, disorienting, terrifying of her life. When those strangers had first jumped in the SUV, put a gun to her neck, she wasn't even sure what was real. I just didn't know what was going on. I was thinking, I don't know, we have a car accident and I hit my head and I'm dreaming or something, you know. You're dreaming. Yeah. But it was a nightmare. Elisa couldn't escape. The man with the gun spoke to her directly. He said, yeah, like, don't move, don't scream. If you help, nothing's going to happen to you.

LISA STARK, Alisa didn't say a word or move a muscle. Two men pushed her into the well of the vehicle and threw a blanket over her head. ALISA KUBAIBAH, They put handcuffs and put me something in the mouth and put me in the... LISA STARK, Something in your mouth? ALISA KUBAIBAH, Yeah. LISA STARK, Like a gag? ALISA KUBAIBAH, Yeah, something like that.

LISA STARK, Alisa was driven for more than an hour along bumpy rural roads. Then the trooper came to a sudden stop. The door opened. She heard someone approaching. This guy that touches my knee and says, if you collaborate, everything's going to be fine. Behave and come with us. Elisa realized she recognized his voice.

It was the same man who'd been calling to arrange a meeting with her about the bird project. There was something really messed up going on. Her captors dragged her from the vehicle. It dawned on her they were taking her somewhere isolated, more dangerous. We started walking through some woods and the guys were talking like, yeah, be quiet, you know, like whispering and saying like, don't you ever think of screaming because we'll kill you. From her first moments in captivity, Elisa was determined to stay calm and alert. She knew one wrong move could cost her her life. Did you think about screaming?

No, no, because, you know, no, I didn't think about doing any stupid thing at that time. When the kidnappers finally removed the blanket from Elisa's head, she saw they were heavily armed and wearing ski masks. They claimed they were guerrillas from a paramilitary group. And Elisa's ordeal was about to get even worse. Her captors told her she wasn't the only one in danger. They threatened her parents and siblings back in Quito. We have a lot of people around your house,

so if you try to escape or something, it's going to be just, you know, don't even think about it. They convinced you that they had people all around your family as well? Yeah, I mean, and I didn't even want to think if it was true or false. You can't take that chance. Yeah, exactly. The strangers asked Elisa if she had a GPS chip under her skin. That may sound odd, but in Latin America,

the ultra-rich sometimes implant tracking devices so they can find family members in the event of a kidnapping. I mean, who do you think I am? I mean, it sounds like I'm a millionaire. When they asked that, did it occur to you that maybe they thought you had a lot of money? Yeah, and I told them, like, I don't know what you think, but we don't have a lot of money. But the kidnappers weren't convinced. They told Elisa they were sure she had money. After all, she's a U.S. citizen with an American father. He said, no, we've been tracking your family for 12 years, and we know everything you do, all your activities and everything.

One of the armed men ordered her to send a message to her parents. She made a quick recording into the stranger's cell phone, repeating the words he'd told her to say. Just said, Mom and Dad, I'm fine. Just do whatever they say and don't talk to the police. I didn't want them to worry about it. Just try to, you know, somehow to let them know that I was fine. You're not fine. Yeah, but, you know, if I would be crying in the message, my mom would just break down.

So I was trying to sound that I was fine. The kidnappers rifled through Elisa's backpack. They took her cell phone, her watch, her iPod, but they left her with a change of clothes and some books and something else that she'd remember much later, a few loose hairpins down at the bottom of her bag. She spent that first night in a tiny makeshift tent, handcuffed to a tree and watched over by two guards with guns. Elisa knew she had to stay centered, keep from breaking down. She focused her mind on her hometown. Thinking about my childhood, thinking about my family, all the nice things I have done, I was just all the time trying to remember things like that.

To keep yourself positive. And then when these people came and talked to me, it was like, you know, back to the reality. Reality hit hard the next morning, Sunday, October 18th. They put me a chain on my feet. They put a chain around your legs? Yeah. Around your ankles? My ankles, yes.

And what was that chain to? To a tree that was right by the door of the tent. Alone, chained to a tree, Elisa Levy didn't know if anyone even realized she was missing or if her family had been harmed. She had no idea what would come next. Did you think you would survive? I didn't want to think about that.

Coming up, a frantic father negotiates for his daughter's life. If you want her back, it will be one million dollars. When Datline continues. Jaime Levy, an American living in Ecuador, was negotiating for his daughter's release. Hola.

This is Elisa's father. How is she? His little girl was somewhere out in the jungle, kidnapped by dangerous criminals. Jaime was feeling betrayed by the country where he made his home. Did you ever, in the back of your mind, did you ever think about kidnapping as a possibility? I had thought about it a little bit, but we don't make any money. But that's the impression that people have. If you're an American, a galingingo, then you're probably a millionaire. Less than a week into Elisa's captivity, in a phone call recorded by law enforcement agents, the kidnapper's ringleader put a price on her life.

If you want her back, it will be one million dollars. One million U.S. dollars. That's a lot of money. Yes. Possible for this family? Impossible.S. dollars. That's a lot of money. It's possible for this family? Impossible. Following instructions from the law enforcement experts, Jaime told the ringleader he wouldn't consider paying the ransom until he knew for sure that Elisa was alive.

Kidnapping experts call it proof of life. Even though Elisa's captors forced her to record a message early on, they had never actually sent it to her family. No pictures? No talking to Elisa? No. So Jaime asked the ringleader questions only his daughter could answer, the name of her grandmother and her godfather. And when you got the right answers back on the line,

what was that feeling? At least we knew she was alive. When? OK, OK. We'll do everything you tell us. But take care of my daughter, please. The Levees knew they needed to come up with cash for the kidnappers.

How much money were you prepared to send them? The only thing we really have is this house. So the bank offered us $80,000 loan on the house. Eighty thousand is less than 10 percent of the one million dollars the kidnappers wanted. In desperation, Jaime called his family back in New York. My brother was going to cash in his retirement plan, and my other sister was going to do that also. They were willing to do that for you?

Yeah. And then we were going to sell the house and pay the back. I guess you would do whatever you had to do at that point. Of course. Of course, everything. Jaime would talk to the ringleader every day or two, negotiating the ransom. Jaime offered talk to the ringleader every day or two, negotiating the ransom. Jaime offered $80,000. The ringleader said it had to be closer to that million-dollar mark. Jaime said he couldn't possibly raise more than $150,000. Basically, they were haggling over the price

of his daughter's life. Making the negotiations even more tense, again and again, the ringleader issued a dire warning. Don't call the police. You want to know that you've talked to nobody about this. It would be best for your daughter if you communicate with nobody about this. No, sir. I'm here with my wife and my son. There's nobody else. It was a lie, of course. Even as he spoke, Jaime was

surrounded by an FBI agent, a State Department official, and a top operative of UNASE, the Ecuadorian anti-kidnapping police. The police don't know. In reality, law enforcement agents were on the hunt for Elisa's kidnappers, identifying and surveilling known criminals in the area who could be suspects. We were able to undertake basic intelligence operations, stakeouts, investigations. But in a kidnapping investigation, Pepe told us, time is never on his side. Communications from the ringleader were getting shorter, sharper. Things turned a little bit. The kidnappers started getting anxious. You could tell that they weren't getting the results that they wanted.

The tension inside the Levy home was palpable. So was the pain. Little sister Mireya found an old stuffed animal of Elisa's in the room they used to share as kids. I used to talk to my sister when I was going to sleep. I used to hug a teddy bear that was hers. Do you think she could hear you? I don't know. It's like energy is so powerful. Maybe it's like when you're connected and you feel it so much. I mean, I used to close my eyes and imagine her. And we all said, to send positive energy to Elisa.

What would you say? That we love her very much, that her family was thinking about her. She is a strong woman who can handle a situation like this. Of course, the Levy family had no idea what Elisa had been through over the past four days, or what she had yet to endure. Coming up, Elisa's kidnappers up the ante. This guy said we might cut your finger off, so to pressure your time. Cut your finger off? Yeah.

When Dateline continues. October 31st, 2009. Two weeks into Elisa Levy's captivity, the 24-year-old U.S. citizen was still chained to a tree in the Ecuadorian jungle. Exhausted, unable to move more than a few feet, her body aching from the confinement, she was struggling to remain strong. But fighting off her fears was growing more difficult. From the moment she disappeared, her family back in Quito was sending her mental messages of hope.

And as she sat alone for hours on end, Elisa almost felt she could hear her mother's voice. I don't know if it's, if it was me or because I was desperate or whatever, but I really could talk to her, especially at night. And I felt a lot of like good energy, you know. Coming back at you. Yeah, like a lot. Did you hear your mother? What did she say? She drew comfort from those imagined whispers in the dark of night, and though she'd never been very religious, she started to pray. And I felt people pray with me. I don't know how to explain it, but I just wasn't able to feel sad anymore. Like, I was just, you know, like, calm. The two guards watching over her were the only human contact she had. Their boss, the ringleader, came and went from a ramshackle hut about 50 yards from her tent,

but Elisa never saw him. She came to think of her guards as the good guy who would bring her rice and beans, reassure her she'd soon be released, and the bad guy who often threatened to kill her or her family back home. But she never learned their names. She was determined not to become overly attached to her captors. She'd been fiercely independent and comfortable in the wilderness from the time she was a little girl. Now she used those qualities to keep her mind occupied. She gazed up into the trees for hours, trying to identify birds by their songs and their

colors. It actually was a really nice forest, you know, with a lot of birds and things to see. In the daylight, the one novel she'd brought with her was always open, a Colombian love story. I read that book, I guess, 12 times or even more. Over and over again. But then night would come again. The chains around her ankles made it impossible to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. Every noise in the trees seemed like it could signal a new danger.

Lying awake, she'd imagine herself soaring on her bicycle. And she would dream about a big bike trip she was organizing to raise money for conservation in just a couple of months. I don't want to miss this bike trip around South America that we're planning because that's what I want to do. She cried alone. Not once did she let her captors see that. She didn't want to show weakness, especially to the guard she called the bad guy, who treated her roughly and issued dark threats. We might just sell you to a different group. A bigger group. Yeah.

A more scary group. Yeah, I had no idea they did that with people, but... Elisa understood his warning. Her current captors could sell her to the FARC, an even more brutal guerrilla group with an expertise in holding hostages. It took extraordinary willpower, but Elisa forced herself to push aside her fears. I'm all by myself. If I get sad and start thinking about this all over again. Is that going to be good for me? So I better not, I better be positive. Elisa was making a conscious effort to cultivate the guard she called the good guy. It was starting to work.

He spoke to her more often at mealtime. He even brought her yarn. So I start doing scarves. Wait, you had knitting needles with you? No, he brought knitting needles. Did you ever think of using those knitting needles for anything else? I was really afraid. Like I said, from the beginning, I just had that idea if I did something, my family could, you know, be hurt. So I didn't even thought about that.

The needles would be no match against guns, but Elisa thought of a way to use them. She knitted four scarves for the good guard, and in exchange, she asked him for information. He gave her a key nugget. Her parents were alive, he told her, and negotiating for her release. He was like, they're talking, everything's going to be fine, just calm down. But the guard she calls the bad guy was escalating his threats. This guy said we might cut your finger off, so to pressure your family. Cut your finger off?

Yeah. Of course, Elisa didn't know about the U.S. and Ecuadorian agencies on the hunt for her captors. Now the Colombian government had joined the effort, too. The law enforcement authorities in Colombia who focus on anti-kidnapping matters work closely with the Ecuadorian National Police, the UNASE. Zeroing in and circling the net. If anybody has experience in kidnapping matters, it's the Colombian authorities.

Some of the specifics are classified, but the Colombians provided high-tech equipment to help the team track the location of the ringleader's cell phone. There was no way to know if he was in the same place as Elisa, but the kidnappers were leaving behind other clues too. We like to say there's no such thing as the perfect crime. They always leave a trace. And it was Elisa herself who gave them their best clue. Remember when she first climbed into that Isuzu trooper?

She'd asked one of her brothers to make note of the license plate number. Investigators checked the number against video of vehicles passing through toll plazas all over Ecuador. The kidnapper's trooper was recorded passing through several toll booths and heading to the Columbia border. But 18 days into her captivity, out in her makeshift tent in a remote patch of forest, Elisa Levy wasn't sitting around waiting to be rescued. ELISA LEVY, I didn't want to die. I didn't want to keep thinking that my family is thinking that I'm dead. I really want to try to do something about it. There were stretches of time when the two armed guards would wander off. The only thing holding Elisa in the kidnapper's encampment was that chain binding her ankles to a tree.

And the chain, I assume, has a big lock on it. Actually, it had like a small lock. The knitting needles were too large to pick that lock. Was there another way? She'd thought about it a hundred times, but now desperation sparked creativity. Remember, her captors had taken her electronics, but not her backpack. And those bobby pins mixed in with loose change at the bottom. She reached in and pulled out two and bent them into tools.

Over the next three days, whenever the guards were out of sight, she'd maneuver the pins in the lock's keyhole. She tried again and again. Finally, the lock popped open. But Elisa stayed cautious. The bad guy seemed brutal enough to shoot if she tried to escape. ELISA KUHLMANN, So what I did was I would climb in the trees that were nearby and try to see where I was. So you would unlock the lock, climb up in the trees and try to see where you were, all while nobody was right close guarding you. Yeah. And then go back, sit down and put the lock back on? Yeah. That's pretty brave. Yeah, I was really afraid that they may see me. With each climb, Elisa grew more bold. Soon, she would have to decide whether to

run from her kidnappers. She closed her eyes tight, praying for guidance from her mother, miles away in Quito. ELISA, I heard this, or I had this communication, I don't know, like with my mom. You heard your mother's voice? ELISA, Yeah. I believe it was my mother's voice. What did she say? ELISA, Don't risk yourself. Don't mother's voice. What did she say? Don't, like, risk yourself.

Don't try to escape. Just wait a couple more days. But Elisa could also read the signals she was getting from her guards, both spoken

and silent. She was running out of time. Coming up, suddenly, movement in the deep darkness of the jungle.

And I start seeing some, like like flashlights. But who was it? Rescuers or more danger? When Dateline continues. Friday, November 6th. It had been 20 days since the Levy family had seen or spoken to 24-year-old Elisa. 20 brutal days. I mean, you can't do anything. You just have to wait and wait.

And how was your mom through all this? It was, like, really hard. I mean, the police people told us, you have to be the support for your mother. She's really suffering. She's a good mom. She's a protective mom. That's true.

Saturday, November 7th, 2009, Elisa awoke suddenly in the dead of night. She heard rustling in the forest. And I started seeing some, like, flashlights. In the beams of light slicing through the trees, Elisa could only make out silhouettes. There were many of them, moving briskly and carrying military-style weapons. It occurred to Elisa in an instant. These were FARC rebels.

It just went through my mind, like, really fast that I'll be years in Colombia with this group. The lights and shadows kept advancing toward Elisa's flimsy tent. You think you're in trouble. Yeah, I was sure about that, you know, that this was, like, a terrorist group that was going to take me to the middle of nowhere for years. And then one of the armed men burst inside the tent.

He goes around me and holds me, and he said, it's okay, it's okay, you're going to be fine. I was like, no, please, just don't take me. And he's saying, we're from the police, we're from the police, we're rescuing you. Did you believe him? I was trying to, you know, I was just hoping it wasn't a dream, because I thought I might be dreaming.

We covered Elisa with a blanket and put ourselves on top of her, so she could not be harmed again. The man cradling Elisa in a bulletproof blanket was Pepe, the undercover agent from the Ecuadorian anti-kidnapping police, UNASE. He said, it's okay, Elisa. I've been with Jaime and Elisa. And when I just heard my parents' name, I was happy. She began to hug me,

and we told her what we always say to those we've rescued. Welcome to liberty. Alicia got the phone call. I remember I was still in bed, and she started screaming, and everyone jumped up. We all screamed and got up. It was the best moment of my life. You feel you could just breathe again.

She was safe, but was she really all right? They would have to wait hours to find out. The rescuers whisked Elisa back to Quito. She was desperate to see her family. She hadn't even talked to them by phone. But UNASE officials had a different idea. They wanted to publicize their victory so that other families of kidnapped victims might feel more comfortable calling the police. They wanted to televise the Levy family reunion live on camera. Elisa was taken to UNASE headquarters to wait for a 1 p.m. press conference. Officials would announce her rescue, then finally allow her to see her parents, brother and sister.

I can remember like every single minute of that waiting. It was like a long, long, long, long time. I could say that that was even longer than the three weeks I was away. After a brief press conference, the Levis walked through the crush of cameras and into Elisa's arms. It was a good feeling to know that our daughter was sick. And it was the best thing ever, just being able to see them. And also to feel that now that they're fine, that they know I'm fine. It was all I needed. It's all I wanted, just to be with family.

In the end, her captors had been common criminals, not guerrilla fighters at all. Elisa's testimony helped convict the ringleader and the guard she called the good guy. But the bad guy is still at large. Since her kidnapping, Elisa has thought of the U.S. and South American agents who saved her every day. But she's tried to put those terrifying 21 days behind her. Still, she agreed to come with me to a reconstruction of the place she was held, created for us by the UNASE agents who rescued her. What does it feel like to look at this now?

Weird. Weird? Yeah. Elisa still remembers every detail. Your leg was chained, right? Your ankle was both ankles or just one? At the beginning, both, and then just one. What about going to the bathroom?

I had to go as far as the chain would let me go. They wouldn't let you off the chain to go to the bathroom? No. When you look back now, as you stand here looking at this, can you believe that you did 21 days in something like that? Well, I think I haven't really assimilated all this yet, you know. The place itself, the view from there, it was a really nice forest. Some people might not like to be in a forest for 21 days,

but I'd rather be there than in a small, dark room. You're a very positive thinker. Well, my mind, sorry, just work like that to go through all that. To keep you alive and sane. Yeah. Yeah. During those days chained to a tree, Elisa found strength dreaming of the freedom she'd feel soaring on her bicycle. And it may sound hard to believe, but just eight weeks after coming home, she left for that long-planned bike trip through South America.

A 4,000-mile journey covered by the local press. For me, it's been one of the greatest things in my life, that bike trip. After all what happened, it was like a healing thing. She was trying to retake her life, not like sitting on her bed to cry or stuff like that. She helped us to get through it. She was first. Yeah, I mean, she helped you to get through it.

Yeah. At the end, she was the support of all of us. I'm happy being alive. I'm happy being with my family. I'm really happy, you know, to be able to have a second chance. I'm fine after all what happened because I'm fine. That's all for now. I'm Lester Holt. Thanks for joining us.