Chapter 3 - The Stolen Friend
I thrashed violently against the heavy tactical mesh, trying to use the escape techniques my father had taught me.
But the thick ropes were woven with steel wire, digging painfully into my skin with every single movement.
A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed the top of the net, dragging me effortlessly up the basement stairs.
The thick smoke in the kitchen burned my eyes, completely blinding me as I was carried out the front door.
I was violently tossed into the dark, cramped trunk of one of the armored SUVs.
The heavy trunk door slammed shut, plunging me into absolute pitch-black darkness as the massive engine roared to life.
I focused on my breathing, slowing my heart rate down exactly as I did before a major martial arts tournament.
I reached into the hidden lining of my right shoe, pulling out a small, serrated survival knife my father had given me for emergencies.
I began sawing frantically at the steel-woven ropes, my arms aching as the vehicle bounced aggressively over pothole-ridden streets.
It took nearly twenty grueling minutes, but the thick mesh finally snapped open, allowing me to crawl completely free.
I pressed my ear against the cold metal of the trunk, trying to memorize the sharp turns and stops to calculate our direction.
The SUV finally screeched to a halt, and I heard the heavy mechanical grinding of massive industrial warehouse doors opening.
The vehicle rolled slowly inside, stopping completely as the engine was killed.
I hid silently against the back wall of the trunk, gripping my small knife tightly as the latch clicked open.
Two tactical guards reached inside to grab the net, expecting to find me hopelessly tangled within it.
I immediately kicked outward with all my strength, driving my heavy boots directly into the first guard's face.
He collapsed backward with a loud groan, allowing me to leap swiftly out of the vehicle.
I scrambled beneath the parked SUVs, using the dark shadows of the massive, cavernous warehouse to hide.
I watched silently from underneath a vehicle as several armed guards dragged my unconscious, bleeding father toward a distant holding cell.
I needed to find a way to free him, but the facility was heavily guarded by men carrying automatic rifles.
I crawled quietly toward a stack of wooden shipping crates, planning to climb up to the steel ventilation ducts near the ceiling.
Suddenly, a soft, familiar whimpering sound echoed from a small metal cage sitting just a few feet away from me.
I crept cautiously toward the dark enclosure, my heart stopping completely in my chest.
Sitting on the cold concrete floor, shivering in terror with her hands bound together, was my school friend Emma.
They had not just taken my father and me.
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They had completely destroyed the lives of everyone connected to me.
I reached my hand through the metal bars to comfort her, but the entire cage was suddenly illuminated by a blinding overhead spotlight.
