Dennis panicked and suggested they leave the country immediately—Europe, anywhere. Their father’s voice hardened. No, he said. Running would not help. Men like North could reach farther than they thought.
He promised he was using every resource he had to settle the situation. Then the call ended, leaving the two brothers alone in their expensive downtown apartment.
The place had floor-to-ceiling windows, designer furniture, and all the comforts bought with their father’s dirty money. Dennis asked what they were supposed to do now. Ian tried to calm him down by pointing out the cameras, the secure entrance, and the building staff downstairs.
But even he could feel that the world they relied on was starting to crack. The air in the apartment felt heavy, like a storm was building.
The security their father promised did not arrive for two hours. Four former police officers came in leather jackets with compact automatic weapons under their coats. They spread out through the apartment and took up positions by the front door and windows.
The sight of armed professionals settled the brothers a little. They told themselves no one could get through that kind of protection. The day passed quietly. They watched television, ordered food, and drank expensive whiskey.
By late evening, the tension had eased enough that they even started making nervous jokes. Around eleven, their father called again to check in. He said negotiations were underway and he expected money to solve the problem.
Reassured, the brothers went to bed and left their safety in the hands of hired men. But at exactly two in the morning, the power in the apartment went out.
Ian woke not to noise, but to silence. The air conditioner had stopped. The refrigerator was quiet. Even the wall clock had gone still.
He reached for the lamp, but nothing happened. He called out to the guards and heard no answer. He tried his phone, but it was dead, even though it had been charging.
He called for Dennis. No answer. Fighting panic, he stepped into the dark hallway with one hand on the wall.
The apartment was pitch-black because the heavy curtains blocked the city lights. He called again for the guards and then tripped over something large and soft. Dropping to his knees, he realized it was a body—warm, but motionless.
Ian screamed and backed into the wall. Then a calm male voice from the darkness told him not to waste his breath. A bright flashlight beam hit his eyes.
As his vision adjusted, he saw the room. The four armed guards were on the floor of the living room, tied up and gagged, alive but unconscious…
