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Peshawar, Pakistan – Shallah mansion

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Zain received an emergency call at the bank from the third guard, who immediately called after observing the kidnapping.

Zain jumped into the company car stored in the underground garage. He drove like a bat out of hell while, over the phone, he was updated on the status of the other two guards. Both had pursued the kidnapper, but shortly the radio had gone silent. Zain turned sharply into the property, rocketing up the driveway. He bolted from the car and into his mansion.

Zain couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Where is he?” he demanded.

The guard motioned for Zain to follow him. They entered the mansion’s security room. Dozens of screens showed different locations and angles of the property surrounding the mansion. Attempting to calm his boss, the big burly guard pointed at a screen that displayed a blinking red dot superimposed over a map of Peshawar.

“Your son is there,” the guard told Zain. “I looked up the location on Google Earth. He is at a farmhouse about twenty minutes from here.”

The banker asked the next obvious question, “Who took him?”

The guard was prepared for that question and had queued video footage taken from the camera overlooking the driveway. The guard pressed the play icon, and crisp, clean video showed Kara ushering Zain’s children into the housekeeper’s car. The woman was dressed in a full abaya; therefore, the banker couldn’t note distinguishing features. But, in each frame, against the dark fabric, Zain noted the ultra-fair skin on her hands. Confirming her race, video accessed from other cameras revealed her skin color as she was captured dusting in various parts of the house. It was obvious she was not Pakistani. She was Caucasian and that was bad news. A Caucasian woman responsible for kidnapping his kids made Zain think either the American CIA or the Israeli Mossad was responsible. After all the years of maintaining a low profile, Zain had finally been found. The jig was up. It was time to go into offensive mode. After he retrieved his son, he would disappear. His brother, Naveed, had places where they could hide out. But first things first. He had to get his son back.

“Call Inspector Mehsud and tell him I need two dozen men. Have them meet us here and make sure they bring plenty of firepower.”

The guard simply nodded and picked up the phone.