Chapter 36: The Agent Father

Bryan gave Owen a quick glance and asked, "How much time do I have?"

"96 hours," Owen replied gravely.

On the phone, Sam continued, "Here's the situation. Those guys refer to the girls they kidnap as 'merchandise.' Once captured, they usually sell them within three to four days. The channels vary: they might auction them on the dark web, sell them directly to organized crime, or use other networks that span across the globe. You need to find Kim before she's sold."

"And if I don't?" Bryan asked, his tone flat.

"Then I'm afraid you'll never see her again," Sam said grimly.

Bryan ended the call. Silence filled the cabin. Owen had overheard the entire conversation. He recognized the man on the other end—Sam, a character from the movie Taken who had helped Bryan uncover details about the Albanian gang. The reality of his memories aligning with this world became undeniable.

After a moment of quiet, Bryan dialed another number. The call was answered quickly.

"Bryan?" a man said, sounding surprised. His voice was about Bryan's age.

"Yes, Ken. I need your help."

"Help? We're not exactly on friendly terms, so if you're calling me, it's serious."

"My daughter was kidnapped yesterday in Paris. She and her friend were targeted by Albanians."

"How do you know that?"

"I may be retired, but I'm not dead," Bryan retorted.

"So, what do you need from me?"

"Tell me everything you know about them."

"The Albanians?"

Bryan remained silent, prompting Ken to continue.

"Alright… About six or seven years ago, they began migrating from Eastern Europe. There were maybe twenty of them at first, but they grew fast. Now there are hundreds. We don't know their exact numbers. They're ruthless and willing to do anything for money. If it's really them who took your daughter, I suggest you contact the police. I have some influence with the Paris authorities and can keep an eye on things for you."

"No," Bryan replied coldly. "You and I both know what Parisian police are like. I only have 96 hours—no, make that 90 hours now. I won't rely on those incompetent fools. I'm going to get my daughter back myself."

"Wait—are you coming to Paris?" Ken's tone shifted to one of concern.

"Yes. I'm already on my way."

"And what, you're just going to raise hell in my city?"

"I don't care. I only care about my daughter," Bryan stated with chilling finality.

"Listen, Bryan, you can't go rogue on this. I'll keep tabs on the situation, but you need to promise me you won't cause chaos in Paris."

"I'll be landing in six hours."

"Damn it… Fine. I'll make some inquiries. Wait for my call."

The line went dead. In an office inside France's National Security Bureau, Ken frowned as he set down the phone. He quickly dialed another number.

"Set up surveillance at all major airports. Look for a man named Bryan Mills. I'll send you his photo shortly. The moment he lands, I want him under observation."

Back on the plane, Bryan finally set his phone aside. Owen took the opportunity to speak.

"I have some additional intel that might help," Owen said.

Bryan didn't reply verbally but gave him a look that said, Go on.

"The Albanians use a specific method to target tourists. They send charming young men to flirt with single foreign women, gain their trust, and extract their addresses. Then, others follow up to abduct them. Their base is on Paradise Street—a building with a red door. Amanda and Kim might be held there. They control new captives by injecting them with drugs, and they aren't hesitant to kill anyone who resists. We should head there immediately after landing to avoid any delays."

Bryan's eyes lit up. The information was precise and extremely valuable. If true, it would save them crucial time. In kidnapping cases, the sooner action was taken, the higher the chances of success.

However, Bryan couldn't ignore how unusually accurate Owen's intel was. Not even Sam had uncovered that level of detail. Still, his instincts told him Owen was telling the truth. After a brief pause, he asked, "How reliable is your source?"

Owen didn't seem offended by the question. "It's reliable. You heard about the Zhongchen Tower incident, right? I know Jack Bauer from CTU. He's the one who provided the intel."

Owen had anticipated Bryan's skepticism and decided to attribute the information to CTU. Given Bryan's knowledge of Owen's involvement in the Zhongchen case, it was a plausible explanation.

France – Charles de Gaulle Airport

The private plane touched down smoothly. Owen and Bryan disembarked quickly, blending in with the crowds of passengers from other recently landed flights. Without any luggage to slow them down, they moved swiftly toward the taxi stand.

There was already a long line of travelers waiting for cabs. Owen and Bryan walked toward the back of the line, searching for an available car. Suddenly, Owen's attention was caught by a nearby conversation.

"Hi, I'm Bruce. Are you traveling alone?"

"Yes. I'm Jennifer," replied a young woman.

"American?"

"That's right."

"Paris is a great city. There's so much to see and do. I have a lot of American friends who love it here. Oh, by the way, taxis are really expensive in Paris. Want to share one?"

"Sure, why not?" Jennifer agreed cheerfully.

Owen's jaw tightened as he listened. The scene was all too familiar. Another tourist was about to walk straight into the same trap Amanda and Kim had fallen into. He exchanged a knowing glance with Bryan. It was time to act.

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