"Where are we going now?"
In the car, Steve Owen sat in the back seat, flanked on both sides by the enemy.
"You'll know when we get there."
If there had been any pretense of courtesy earlier, it was completely gone now.
The guy to Owen's left chuckled, pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. Meanwhile, the one on the right took the opportunity to search him thoroughly, confiscating his handgun and claw knife.
"Nice stuff..."
The guy on the right clearly knew his weapons. He immediately recognized that Owen's claw knife wasn't a mass-market item and shamelessly tucked it into his own waistband. Seeing Owen looking at him, he even gave a smirking smile.
"Who are you people?"
Owen tried to use the opportunity to gather information, but no one responded.
In the front passenger seat, the curly-haired man was on the phone. "Yeah, we got him. He was alone. Okay, we'll get it out of him..."
After hanging up, Curly glanced mockingly at Owen in the back, then dialed another number, sounding much more casual this time. "Nina, we got him, hahaha...
Don't worry, he's going to be a dead man soon. It doesn't really matter whether he knows your name or not.
Yeah, he was wearing a bulletproof vest, that's how he survived. We checked—he took four shots. Looks like Val and Jack Bauer both missed the mark. Oh, want to say a few words to him…?"
Curly held the phone toward Owen with a mocking grin. Owen played along and shouted, "Nina, you traitor!"
There was a moment of silence on the line before Nina's voice came through. "Owen, I'm sorry, but I had to do it..."
"Fake bitch~~~"
Curly was very satisfied as he took the phone back. He seemed to really enjoy this kind of drama.
The car sped forward. Owen sat still, not daring to move. A gun was pointed right at his armpit—an area not protected by the bulletproof vest.
The road became more remote as they drove, eventually reaching the coastline, and they stopped in front of a boathouse.
Owen was dragged out of the car. They had already handcuffed him inside, so they weren't too worried about him escaping.
He looked around, slightly disappointed. It was obvious there were only a few of them here—no guards at all. This clearly wasn't the place where Jack's wife and daughter were being held.
Owen had deliberately let himself be captured in hopes they'd bring him to the hostage location. That way, the kidnappers would have unintentionally led him straight to the hostages. But this clearly wasn't the case.
Two of the big guys shoved him inside. The place looked like a ship repair facility. Tools were scattered around the boat cradle. It wasn't abandoned, but likely hadn't opened for the season yet—perfect for shady business.
Owen was forced into the dry dock. Straight ahead was the open entrance for boats, offering a clear view of the distant greenery and water.
Four men surrounded Owen. In the center, there was a table and a chair.
They shoved Owen into the chair. Curly approached with a confident grin, sure of victory.
"You don't want this to get painful, do you? Tell us where Swag is, and I'll make it quick for you. Also, who else did you tell about the Archbishop?"
"I don't know... ugh..."
Owen had barely begun to resist when one of the thugs punched him in the face.
Damn, that hurt.
Owen had to take a moment to recover, working his jaw after the blow. Even his spit had traces of blood.
"Now have you figured it out? Where's Swag?" Curly asked, amused.
"I've got a question for you too. You answer me, and I'll tell you where Swag is... ugh..."
Another punch landed in Owen's gut.
"I'm curious, what do you want to ask me?"
Despite his goons being rough, Curly seemed intrigued by Owen's question.
"Jack Bauer's wife and daughter—where are they?"
Seeing the look in Owen's eyes, Curly burst out laughing. The others joined in, hooting.
"Hah, so that's what you're after. What, you got a thing for his daughter?"
"Hahahaha~~~"
The others laughed even harder. The burly guy with the beard laughed so hard he shook. Owen remembered him clearly—he was the one who used the handcuffs to burn him. The key was still in his pocket.
"Figure out who's in charge here. You don't have the leverage to bargain with me. Where's Swag?"
Curly's expression suddenly darkened, his voice turning harsh.
Owen stayed silent. Curly gave a nod, and the bearded thug started punching again, like a hailstorm of fists.
Owen was beaten to the ground, but the other two grabbed him and forced him back into the chair.
"Ready to talk now?"
Owen spat out a bloody glob, but smiled. "Listen to me, you still have a chance if you stop now..."
"Hahahaha~~~"
Owen's defiance drew more laughter. Curly paced maniacally around him. "You know, that's what I like about you—you're nothing like those stupid bitches. If the Colonel hadn't ordered me to kill you, I'd honestly consider letting you go..."
Owen knew the guy was just talking crap, but he did notice that all of them had the same tattoo on their arms—it looked like some kind of military insignia.
Hearing the insult toward women, Owen perked up. "Where are they being held? Tell me, and I'll give you Swag's location."
"Looks like you really care about them. Fine, I'll tell you. They're dead..."
Owen knew that was bullshit. If the hostages were dead, how would they control Jack Bauer? Judging from everything so far, their goal wasn't to kill Jack, but to force him into something.
Still, after all the effort, he'd gotten nothing. Owen was losing patience.
"I'm trying to save your lives, understand? Tell me where they are, and you won't have to die..."
"Hahaha~~ 'Tell me where they are and you won't have to die!' Hahaha~~~"
They nearly laughed themselves breathless, looking at Owen like he was some kind of idiot. One of them even mimicked his words in a deliberately flamboyant tone.
"Enough. The Colonel must be getting impatient. Get what we need out of him and finish him off..."
The bearded thug was losing patience. He picked up a power saw from the side, pressed the switch, and the blade began spinning with a high-pitched whine.
He touched it to the corner of the metal chair, sending sparks flying. The saw easily sliced off a piece of iron.
Then he moved toward Owen, holding the saw close to his face. Owen recoiled in fear as the others watched with twisted anticipation.
"Wait, stop..."
As the saw closed in, Owen shouted. The blade stopped inches from his face.
Everyone grinned smugly. The guy who'd talked so big now caved when the saw came out.
"Where is Swag?" Curly asked again.
"Fine, I'll tell you. You're looking for Swag, right? He's right over there~~~"
Owen pointed with his cuffed hands toward the open entrance of the boathouse. The men turned to look—outside, there was only water and nothing else.
Curly exploded in anger. He'd already been thinking about cutting off Owen's fingers one by one.
The bearded thug realized he'd been fooled, too. Enraged, he raised the saw, just as his head jerked to the side and he collapsed, completely still.
He had been the closest to Owen, and Owen felt a warm liquid splash across his face. Looking down, he saw it was blood.
"Jim? Jim, what's wrong?!"
The remaining men panicked. As they moved to rush forward, another thug suddenly crumpled, a bloody hole in his vest.
Now they understood what was happening. When the second man dropped right beside them, they all heard a soft "pop."
"Don't move," Owen ordered the remaining two.
"You're in the sights of Swag's sniper rifle right now. If you want to die, go ahead and try moving. Let's see if a sniper who can make a headshot from 2,200 yards misses..."
Now it was Owen's turn to speak with confidence.
The two remaining men froze like statues, hands raised, not daring to make a single move.
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