CHAPTER 2: THE WRONG HOSTAGES
The gang dragged Emily and the young man into an abandoned warehouse.
The leader searched Emily's purse.
"No cash."
"No jewelry."
"Waste of time."
One thug picked up her phone.
"No password."
He laughed.
"Let's call Daddy."
The phone connected instantly.
A deep voice answered.
"Emily?"
The thug laughed.
"Come get your daughter if you can."
Silence.
Then the voice replied.
"Tell me where she is."
The thug hung up.
"What an old fool."
Emily's face turned pale.
"You shouldn't have done that."
The gang burst into laughter.
"What? Is your father the president?"
She lowered her head.
"No."
"He's worse."
Meanwhile another thug searched the young man's wallet.
There was almost nothing inside.
Just an old driver's license.
He threw it aside.
"Poor guy."
Then another phone inside the young man's jacket began vibrating.
The screen read:
Father
The leader answered.
"We've got your son."
The caller calmly asked,
"Is he alive?"
"Barely."
"Good."
The leader frowned.
"...Good?"
The voice continued.
"If he's still protecting people, then I raised him correctly."
The thug laughed.
"You don't sound scared."
The man answered quietly.
"I've already sent people."
The line disconnected.
For the first time...
The leader felt uneasy.
Outside...
More than twenty black SUVs entered the industrial district from different directions.
From the opposite side...
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Another convoy arrived.
Neither group belonged to the police.
