The wailing sirens of approaching French police cars filled the air, their distinct two-tone alternating pitch starkly different from the rising and falling single-tone sirens used in America.
In a certain eastern superpower, both sirens could often be heard in real life—police and fire trucks used American-style sirens, while ambulances used the European type.
Hearing the growing wails of the sirens, Frank urged in a low voice, "Time to go."
"Got it."
Jack snapped a photo of a corpse's right hand—a tattoo of a crescent moon and a star decorating the skin. It belonged to the guard who had spoken Albanian earlier.
"No bodies in the house. No signs of digging in the back garden. Someone was held in the upstairs bedroom."
Brian's face relaxed slightly—at least it wasn't as dark as before.
"Let's go. I can find out where they were taken."
Jack pocketed his phone, did a final scan of the scene to make sure they hadn't left anything obvious behind, then turned toward the exit.
The bodies would be the French police's problem now.
——
"What the hell do you mean they weren't there?!"
Castle's voice trembled as he confronted them back at the safe house.
"Volkov killed himself. The girls are missing—they were moved before we got there," Frank admitted, slumping onto the couch. He didn't even bother wiping off the blood on his hands.
Castle clutched his hair in frustration.
Jack sighed. Maybe he should say something before Castle started tearing his hair out and ended up looking like Frank.
"Volkov didn't tell us where Alexis and Kim were before he died.
But I think I've figured out what he did."
Jack had recognized the pattern the moment he heard some of the gunmen speaking Albanian.
He had a very strong feeling that the plot had suddenly crossed over into Taken.
Combine that with Sara's story about the "medical inspections" she had been subjected to—
Jack was certain.
Volkov never planned on releasing the girls. Especially not Alexis.
Unfortunately, they hadn't anticipated this backup plan.
They had gone in hard and fast, eliminating everyone in the villa—leaving no one alive to interrogate.
Jack could only guess how badly Frank had traumatized Volkov back in the day, for the man to ensure that even in death, Frank would suffer.
——
All three men stared as Jack mimicked Albanian phrases into his phone.
Even Jack himself didn't understand what the hell he was saying.
"Yeah, that's all I got. I think it's Albanian. Find me an expert. I need to know what dialect this is.
Also, I'm sending a photo of a tattoo—identify which gang it belongs to."
After hanging up, Jack extended a hand toward Frank.
"Volkov's phone. Now."
Frank handed it over.
It was a hassle—no fingerprint or facial recognition, just a passcode lock.
But it wasn't a problem for Justin.
Jack hooked up the phone to his laptop via a connector, and within half an hour, Justin had cracked the password and copied all data.
——
By the time dawn broke, Jack shook Frank and Brian awake.
Castle hadn't slept at all, but at least nobody needed to knock him out this time.
"Volkov had Albanian men working under him.
Based on the dialect they spoke, their tattoos, and Volkov's phone records, I'm almost certain the girls were handed over to an Albanian syndicate from Tropojë.
It happened yesterday afternoon, while we were killing those four bastards in the forest."
——
Albania—a bizarre little country known for building bunkers everywhere.
For years, it had held the title of "Poorest Country in Europe", at least until Ukraine's elite sold off their entire country.
And Tropojë?
That was the poorest region of Albania. A rural, mountainous wasteland.
——
"Their leader is Marko Hoxha.
Their specialty? Human trafficking.
Their primary target? Young women.
Their method? They lure victims under the pretense of offering them jobs as nannies in Western Europe.
But once the women arrive, they are forced into drug addiction, making them easier to control.
They are then coerced into various sex industries."
Jack's information came directly from French intelligence agencies—DGSE and DGSI.
Think of them as France's version of the CIA and FBI.
Though unlike their American counterparts, these two French agencies were constantly at each other's throats.
Jack remembered the plot of Taken vividly.
With Justin's help, he had hacked into both agencies' databases.
It took half a night, but he had found everything he needed.
——
Castle's face had turned ashen.
"How much time do we have?" Frank's jaw clenched.
Jack checked his watch.
"72 hours—max.
We've already lost about 14 hours.
Good news—they don't keep beautiful, untouched girls for long. They sell them quickly to high-paying buyers.
But that also means they won't harm them before the sale.
At least… not yet."
"Oh, thank God," Castle almost collapsed in relief.
He covered his face, nearly breaking down.
"Alexis has never even had a boyfriend…"
Jack exchanged a glance with Brian.
Brian's face was… complicated.
If his ex-wife hadn't divorced him and married a wealthy man, Kim would have never had the privileged life she did.
She wouldn't have attended a strict private school—one that protected her from everything.
But there was no point in thinking about what-ifs.
Regardless of what happened to them, their only job now was to bring them back.
——
Jack pointed at a location on his laptop.
"10th arrondissement. Rue du Paradis.
That's where they're hiding.
It's an apartment complex owned by Marko Hoxha's gang.
I couldn't find a photo of Hoxha himself, so we can't just go in guns blazing like we did last night."
Brian stood up immediately.
"I have contacts in France. I can—"
Jack stopped him.
"Bad idea."
Brian frowned.
Jack exhaled sharply.
"I don't know how reliable your contacts are.
But if these bastards felt safe enough to kidnap tourists in Paris, then they must have protection from high places.
These trafficking networks have existed since the Cold War.
Albanians, Romanians, North Africans, and now even Russian mobs—they've all had a hand in this trade.
There's no way they could have operated this long without government corruption.
And you know it."
Brian's expression darkened.
Jack hadn't forgotten the original Taken movie's not-so-subtle implication—
That France's elite were involved.
Even without the movie, history had already proven the truth.
Eastern Europe's collapse had unleashed horrors that had spread underground, whispered about in snuff tapes, dark web forums, and leaked documents.
They weren't dealing with small-time crooks.
They were about to go up against something far worse.
______
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