Fifty kilometers away from Daniel and William's location, a black armored van sped down the road, escorted by a police cruiser clearing the way. Inside the vehicle, a young woman with brown hair and green eyes lay tied to the floor, defenseless.
Surrounding her were five men clad in police uniforms. They were robust, well-trained individuals whose physical build strained against their uniforms. A sixth member drove the vehicle.
The tension among them was palpable: one of the agents displayed a severe bruise on his face, the result of a recent punch; two others bore only superficial scratches, while the rest remained unscathed. The group's hostility converged entirely upon the injured man.
— "I'm dying to kill this bastard! Why did you stop me?" Ralf bellowed, one of the six subordinates of Michel, the dreaded Director of the CIA.
Upon hearing the question, the man sitting in front of Ralf spat on the floor, his gaze overflowing with fury.
— "That miserable wretch! It's his fault we couldn't have some fun with this bitch!" Alan exclaimed, indignant.
The three who were uninjured momentarily stared at the colleague with the bruise.
— "Rafael, you went beyond all limits by protecting our target... I will make sure to report this personally to Director Michel!" John threatened. He was the squad veteran and held Michel's high esteem, which was why he had been designated the mission leader.
Rafael shivered at the threat but did not back down; his fists clenched so tightly that the veins bulged in his arms.
— "Did you want me to allow these filthy dogs to abuse the girl?"
— "You punk! Who are you calling a filthy dog? When Chief Michel finds out, you'll be the next little bitch to be put down!" Alan shouted, lunging to strike him, only to be restrained by Josef at his side.
— "Alan, don't waste your breath on this useless fool. After this mistake, his hours are numbered," Josef declared coldly.
Ralf, about to insult him again, remembered something and smiled maliciously.
— "I heard you have a wife and a daughter who's only seventeen..."
Bang! Thud!
In an explosive impulse, Rafael leaped and landed a punch on Ralf's mouth, sending blood and a tooth flying across the van's interior. Grabbing him violently by the shirt, Rafael growled:
— "Dare touch a single hair on my wife or daughter's head, and I will hunt you down in hell, you piece of filth!"
Romeu, who was driving, slammed a heavy hand against the grate separating the cabin from the rear compartment.
— "Can you guys control yourselves, or do you want me to end up crashing this damn thing?"
Demi, who had been watching in silence, delivered a brutal kick to Rafael's chest, forcing him to let go of Ralf and return to his seat. With a murderous look, he threatened:
— "Sit your ass down. Otherwise, I'll personally carve a knife into your wife and daughter."
Rafael was furious, yet it was difficult to hide the profound worry on his countenance. When he was assigned to this last-minute mission, he believed the goal was to capture a dangerous criminal, as per Director Michel's report. However, upon arriving at the scene, he was faced with a young woman who looked like she had recently married.
Upon questioning John, the leader informed him it was a strategic kidnapping to control someone with classified information. But when Rafael discovered the target was merely the wife of an American astronaut with a clean record, he tried to persuade the team, aware they were dealing with innocent civilians. He was summarily ignored.
He was about to abandon the site when he overheard the sick conversation between Alan and Ralf regarding Michel's permission to "play" with the hostage. Rafael had served his country for twenty years protecting citizens; he could not abandon a civilian about to be violated by unscrupulous agents.
At the residence, the young woman reacted with unexpected desperation, throwing a radio that was narrowly dodged. Ralf chased her while she tried to create obstacles with chairs. When grabbed, she dug her nails into his face. Attempting to run upstairs, Alan tried to stop her, only to be scratched by her as well. Furious, Alan delivered a violent punch to her face.
As he prepared to continue the beating, Rafael restrained him by force. The girl seized the opening and ran to the upper floor, leaving a trail of blood from the cut on her brow. Her pleas for help echoed through the house:
— "Will, help me! Will, help! My love, help me!"
Thirsting for revenge, Alan and Ralf headed to the third floor. Rafael, sensing the imminent tragedy, accelerated his pace, ignoring John's orders and furious shouts. Entering the room, he saw bloody fingerprints on the door and a scene of horror: the young woman fallen, her face disfigured by bruises, while the aggressors tore at her clothes.
In that instant, Rafael saw the faces of his own wife and daughter. If they were there, wouldn't he hope for a man of honor to act? He lunged at his colleagues to protect the victim, sparking a confrontation that was only broken up minutes later by the other agents.
Even while held back, Rafael noticed the girl's gaze. Amidst the tears and pain, her lips moved silently, forming a "thank you."
Now, Rafael had acted according to his conscience, but the price was his life and the safety of his family. He knew Michel's nature—a bloodthirsty psychopath who did not tolerate being crossed. In silence, he pleaded for something to change the situation, though despair began to take hold of his soul.
On the floor of the van, Juliane's eyes overflowed with fear and despair. She still couldn't process what was happening. Those men, disguised as police, had invaded her home without warning with the sole intent of kidnapping her.
Panic dominated her instantly, and her reaction was to fight, but the more she tried to escape, the more terrifying the situation became. Since she lived in a rural area, far from the city, there were no neighbors within at least a five-kilometer radius. There was no one to cry out to for help. In her mind, only the image of her husband, William, appeared.
She screamed his name in the vain hope he would save her, though she knew it was only a desperate wish. If not for the intervention of one of the kidnappers in her favor, she would have been dishonored by two of those criminals.
Juliane was determined: if the worst had happened, she would bite her own tongue and commit suicide. She could never go on living, much less face her husband, if such an atrocity had been consummated. She felt that God had been good to her by touching the heart of one of the men to protect her at the last moment.
Juliane loved her husband deeply. In the beginning, their marriage was wonderful, but lately, she didn't understand what had changed. William had begun to distance himself, making excuses not to spend nights by her side. Whenever he was home, he did his best to avoid her. This distance hurt her heart deeply, and though she tried to talk, he remained silent.
If not for his gaze, which remained the same, she might have considered the existence of another woman. She thought of it for a moment but discarded the idea quickly. That look of love and affection he dedicated to her couldn't be faked; it was the same spark, or perhaps even more tender and caring than when they were merely engaged.
In her insecurity, Juliane came to think the problem was her. Believing she had gained weight, she started dieting and running, yet her husband still seemed to flee. Every night she cried in silence. She avoided telling her parents anything, as they greatly admired their son-in-law and she didn't want to destroy his image over a difficult phase.
She had planned a trip for when he returned, hoping they could reclaim their old intimacy. William had also gained considerable weight and seemed to be aging rapidly, which frightened her. After speaking with some specialists, she was told it could be stress and that they needed time to relax.
Everything was ready. She was about to prepare a special dinner to celebrate his return when the invasion happened. From her perspective, it was unlikely the kidnapping had any connection to William. How could this be connected to an astronaut who had spent months in space and was still preparing to come home?
Juliane was still trying to grasp the situation when a deafening crash echoed, and in an instant, she found herself spinning violently inside the van. Even tied up, her body collided with the five men and the internal structure of the vehicle.
However, she was stunned; she felt no pain at all. It was as if she were rolling on a cozy mattress. In contrast, she saw blood spray from the head of one of the agents; she saw another's arm bend unnaturally, with a jagged bone breaking through the skin. All the others exhibited grave injuries.
When the van finally stopped rolling, she only heard the groans of agony from the men. Lying on the roof of the vehicle, which was now upside down, she stared at them in shock.
"What happened?" she thought, perplexed.
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