Golden Tears

Chapter6

Brennon drove back home in his sleek black Aston Martin, the city lights glanced across its polished surface. He spent the evening well, every meeting, every negotiation, he felt content but tired. On his way to the mansion through the familiar roads, he thought about the development of his company and the charity.

The roads allowed for some degree of movement, and Brennon got to enjoy the lull of the car's engine for a moment. The inside was comfortable: leather seats and the newest technology enclosed him in a luxurious cocoon that seemed to push the unwelcoming life of the outside away. He turned the temperature down, tuning the satellite radio to some soft jazz. He was finally able to relax after his long day.

Coming up to an intersection, Brennon could see a black SUV in this rear-view mirror. The vehicle had been behind him for the last couple of miles, but he really thought nothing about it. Starting to become more and more uneasy, he became aware now that the car was pulling up closer and seemed to hang back further, yet at the same distance. Those lights of the SUV did appear to be brighter than normal and almost invasive as he looked into them momentarily.

Clipping a couple of turns, trying to shake that trailing vehicle, Brennon took an alternate direction into a side street in which very few vehicles passed so he could throw off his pursuit. Everywhere, the SUV followed him, like a shadow unwavering. As some feeling of rationalization grew too large to admit what was happening was just a random event, he began to panic.

He reached out for his phone in order to call his security team. He was nearly fumbling to dial but did not manage to because at that moment, the bright headlights of the SUV flared ominously in his rear-view mirror and there was an abrupt, terrible noise from behind. His heart pounded as he turned to see the SUV jerk drastically, speed up, and close the gap between them.

Brennon reacted on instinct and hit his accelerator, dodging in and out of traffic to try to get away from the SUV. The streets of the city that had been so recognizable, so comforting, now seemed to turn into a maze of obstacles in his way. The SUV was almost inevitable; the engine was growling menacingly now.

A moment later, he made a sharp turn to turn into a narrow alleyway, hoping the narrow confines could perhaps present a possibility for cover. The alley was dim, filled with dumpsters and trash bins on either side. Brennon's hands were firm on the wheel, easily negotiating with precision through the tight space, his eyes sharp for just about any possible escape route that could present itself.

The SUV tailed in easily, its screeching wheels sounding all the while it made its way through the narrow alley. Brennon's heart raced with the knowledge that he was in the firing line for something. His several attempts to shake the SUV proved futile, and presently, it became evident that these people were very insistent on getting him.

Up ahead could be seen a block of concrete and some parked cars, which were potentially blocking the alley. By this point, thoughts were rampant in his mind. He made the decision in a split second that he was reversing and would find another direction. Too close, the SUV was for him to try reversing, almost impossible.

The headlights of the SUV grew brighter as he backed, and now Brennon could even hear the engine revving up. And then, a shadow figure in a black suit was stepping out from a side-swinging door on the SUV and coming his way.

In one big blur of motion, the figure had thrown some large, heavy object at Brennon's car, and there was a sound like an explosion; Brennon's car window exploded and glass shards flew everywhere. Brennon's heart raced, trying to react, but the figure quickly forcibly reached into the car, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forth.

Brennon made an attempt to fight the hold of the assailant, but the latter was too strong and intent. He saw the interior of the SUV in passing, and there was definitely more than a pair of them inside, their masked faces rendered unreadable. Panic churned within Brennon now that the reality of the situation finally sank in. He tried to flail his arms and legs in an attempt to break free, but the overpowering hold was relentless.

He was quickly overpowered by the men from the SUV, who tied his hands with zip ties and cast a heavy piece of cloth over his head. Brennon tried to yell out for help, but he was immediately covered with the cloth, and everything went dark before his eyes. He was lifted and pushed into the back of the SUV.

The interior was close and dim, filled with the hooking scent of leather and oil. For a moment, the cloth was drawn from his head, and he looked at the grim faces of the men. They shoved it back in place quickly and closed the doors. The SUV was moving.

The SUV was speeding away from the scene, and Brennon's head was racing with shock and confusion. He had been ambushed in the safest place ever, and finally, the grim truth of his a*******n started to settle in. The lights of the city, which were most assuring earlier, now lay much away, and uncertainty about the future loomed over his head.

Questions and fear whirled in Brennon's head. Who had done this k********g and for what purpose? He was squarely at their mercy, and if he could keep his feelings from overwhelming him and the rampant fear and dread at bay, it was almost too overwhelming.

The SUV continued driving, taking turns and winding through dark, unfamiliar streets. Brennon wanted to pick something out of the noise of the engine or muffled conversations that might give some hint at their destination, yet he heard very little.

As the car stopped, Brennon was pulled out and roughly guided toward somewhere that was unfamiliar. The moments within those final meters were fraught with tension from the suspense, and Brennon's heart was pounding in his chest. The scene was blunt in his a*******n, set as a stage of threatening confrontation.

The door to the SUV flung open, and Brennon was dragged into a badly-lit industrial space. In the background, he heard the sounds of machinery whirring and could only faintly smell the presence of oil. Finally, the blindfold was taken off his eyes; the light there struck him hard until he could see clearly, and it revealed a grim warehouse.

It was the cold, calculating eyes of Victor Hoffman and his accomplices that met him. Not quite in these real terms did it hit, but what did was the fact that he was about to face a confrontation that would put his nerves on edge and test both his patience and will.