With his hands at the back of his head, Daniel Fox stretched on his couch in his 20 x 30 foot office, seventeen floors up in the heart of Manhattan.
He looked at the treasures in his makeshift home --- flat screen TV, laptop on his desk, his $3,000 dollar suit that warmed his body, a wine bar by the door. Not to mention the lovely assistant outside his door whose ass he touched as often as he liked.
Life is good for Daniel Fox.
He closed his eyes.
Like a bomb that fell from the sky, the NYPD exploded in his office --- led by Detective Mac Taylor and Special Agent Javier Greer --- their gunned trained towards Daniel Fox's face.
At first Daniel was frightened at the sight of six or seven armed men barging into his office. But then he saw Javier Greer. The wicked man gave a wicked smile.
Greer marched towards Daniel Fox and slapped him across the face. Greer saw a blinking light underneath his desk and yanked it.
"Greer!" Mac shouted, but it was too late.
It was the detonator.
"You shouldn't have done that" Fox said to Greer.
"I just turned off the detonator" Greer answered. "That plane can land safely now."
"Don't you think I would have a back up plan?" Fox laughed. "When the receiving module no longer detects a signal from the detonator, it activates the timer."
Mac looked at Fox in horror. "What timer?"
"It becomes a ticking time bomb" Fox answered. "Thirty minutes before detonation."