Chapter 2

Cal was blindfolded. He could sense the rest of Lightman Group nearby, along with his daughter. He was tied to a chair with his hands bound behind him. He thought he heard someone calling his name. Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped away. Despite the darkness of the room he was in, he had to shut his eyes tight to avoid the light. He continued to hear his name.

"Cal!" said one voice.

"Dad!" said another.

He slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the new lighting.

The first thing he noticed was the gray ceiling; his head had been thrust back. Then the melancholy, peeling walls. The whole room was merely one somber shade of gray blending into another.

Some kind of warehouse, maybe?

Then he saw the captive figures of his team and daughter across from him. They appeared relatively unhurt. Some minor cuts and bruises, but that was all. They were tied to chairs as well, but not blindfolded like he had been. They were the ones calling his name.

Dangit. Why did they have to bring Emily into this? They could kidnap him any day, but messing with his family was crossing a line. She shouldn't have to see this.

Whatever this was.

He looked around. He didn't see the kidnappers anywhere. That was a relief, because he probably would have sworn at them at the top of his lungs.

"Cal, can you hear me?" That was Foster.

Still groggy, Cal focused his gaze on her as best he could.

"Loud and clear, love," he responded, shaking his head to clear it. He cringed. Moving hurt, and so did talking; somewhere along the way he had been hit in the mouth. Silence and patience were not his virtues.

"Cal, do you recognize those guys?"

He thought about it carefully. He tried to recall what they had looked like. Nothing stood out. Nothing seemed familiar.

"No, never seen them in my life."

"Because I've been studying them and all I can see is anger, and lots of it. Anger towards you, Cal-"

"Dad, what's going on?" Foster was interrupted by his daughter. He could see the terror in her eyes. "What do they want with us?"

"Shh, love. It's going to be fine. I don't know what they want, but we'll get out of here. I promise you. You're going to be ok." He wanted desperately to get her out of here, but all he could do was try to consol her.

Just then, the two kidnappers entered through a door across the room. Up until then, Cal hadn't noticed its existence. He took a second to memorize the appearances of the two men. The first one, whom he decidedly named Buff, looked exactly as his named described. He was middle-aged with dark short-cropped hair, a 5 o'clock shadow, and muscles bulging from under his short sleeved top and faded jeans. He had been the one driving the car. The second one, Skinny, was much younger than his counterpart and looked like he could have been fresh out of college. His shaggy blonde hair covered much of his face, and the hoodie pulled up over his head further obscured his identity. Oh, and he was, as his name suggested, rather skinny, or at least he seemed to be when compared to his buddy. Both walked with a similar gait. Confident, angry, down-to- business. The same emotions were visible in their eyes.

Why the heck are they so bloody sure of themselves? They looked like men who were tossing a one-sided coin and wishing for heads. Any man in his right mind would show anxiety, fear, and doubt at the thought of the crime they were committing and the possible consequences. These guys were kamikazes who had made their peace with God and stared death in the face. He'd never seen anything like it.

Like they have nothing to lose.

Once his study session was over- a quick glance over to Foster, Torres, and Loker told him they were doing the same- Cal prepared himself to talk his way out of this mess. He was confident he could emotionally break them down and put this mini-vacation from work to an end.

Then his momentary glimmer of hope faded away when he saw the silver gleam of a knife gripped by a cruel and powerful Buff striding his way.

Better start thinking, Cal.