Chapter 6 - The Hostage Trade
I burst out of the clubhouse and sprinted across the dark golf course toward our extraction point.
The armored van was parked exactly where we had left it, but the doors were wide open.
My two operatives were lying unconscious on the wet grass, having been ambushed from behind.
Gregory stood near the edge of the woods, holding Abigail tightly against his chest with a pistol aimed at her temple.
Nicholas stood right beside him, holding a sleek silver briefcase.
"Drop your weapon, Colonel, or I will paint the trees with her brains," Gregory threatened, his eyes wide with manic energy.
I slowly lowered my sidearm and placed it gently on the damp grass.
"Let her go, Gregory, this is strictly between you and me," I reasoned, keeping my voice incredibly steady.
Nicholas stepped forward and opened the silver briefcase, revealing a highly advanced biometric hard drive.
"This is the real data vault, containing every single treasonous transaction we have ever made," Nicholas gloated.
He knew I needed that physical drive to permanently destroy their corrupt empire and put them in prison.
"I will trade you the girl for your absolute, unconditional surrender," Nicholas offered.
"You will confess to fabricating evidence, and you will publicly resign from the military in disgrace."
Abigail shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her bruised face.
"Don't do it, Mom, they are going to kill us anyway!" she cried.
I looked at my beautiful, brave daughter and offered her a small, comforting smile.
"I accept your terms," I said, kicking my weapon further away.
Gregory laughed triumphantly and shoved Abigail roughly toward me.
I caught her in my arms, shielding her body with my own as Nicholas slammed the briefcase shut.
"You are a disgrace to your uniform, Colonel," Nicholas mocked as they turned to walk toward their waiting helicopter.
I watched them climb into the chopper and take off into the dark night sky.
Abigail sobbed against my chest, completely devastated that we had lost everything.
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"We didn't lose, Abby," I whispered, pulling a small remote detonator from my pocket.
"They just stole a briefcase filled with four pounds of military-grade C4 plastic explosives."
