Chapter 36: Secret Agent Dad

Brian glanced at Owen, "How long do I have?"

"96 hours!"

Sam continued, "The records show that these guys usually sell the young girls they refer to as 'goods' within three to four days through various channels, including dark web video auctions, direct sales to the mafia, or other means, covering almost the entire world. So, you'd better find Kem before she is sold."

"And if I don't?"

"I'm afraid you might never find her again."

After hanging up, the plane was silent. Owen didn't know what to say, having heard the conversation. These details matched his memory, and the person on the phone was presumably Sam, who seemed to have some influence and had helped Brian with the Albanians in the movie.

After the silence, Brian made a call, quickly connected.

"Brian?"

The voice on the other end sounded surprised, with a similar age to Brian.

"Yes, Ken."

"What do you need? We aren't exactly on terms to chat without reason."

The relationship between the person on the phone and Brian seemed strained.

"My daughter disappeared in Paris yesterday. She and her friends were targeted at the airport by Albanians."

"How do you know?"

"I'm retired, not dead."

"What do you need from me?"

"Everything you know about them."

"Those Albanians?"

Brian remained silent.

"Alright."

The person on the phone said lazily, "About six or seven years ago, they came from Eastern Europe, starting with just a dozen or so people, but they've grown rapidly. Now there are hundreds, maybe more, and we don't know the exact number of their members.

They're vicious, brutal, and would do anything for money. If it's true they took your daughter, I suggest you contact the police. I have some influence with the Paris police and will keep an eye out for you."

"No, we both know what the Paris police are like. I have 96 hours, no, now 90, and I won't rely on those incompetents. I'll save my daughter myself."

"Wait, Brian, you're coming to Paris?" The tone changed, no longer casual.

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

"How do you plan to proceed, turn Paris upside down?"

"You could sense the disapproval in the voice, even Owen could hear the frown."

"I don't care. I just want my daughter back, nothing else matters."

"Alright, Brian, listen, you can't mess around. I'll keep an eye out for your daughter, but you have to promise not to cause trouble in Paris."

"I have six hours till I land."

"Damn it, I'll see what I can do. Wait for my news."

The call ended, and Ken, sitting in an office at the National Internal Security Bureau, hung up with a grimace, then instructed his subordinates to watch for Brian Mills as soon as he lands, planning to send a photo later.

...

On the plane, Brian finally put away his phone, and Owen seized the moment to offer some additional information.

Brian silently gestured for Owen to continue, who then said, "Those Albanians usually use handsome men to seduce single female tourists, gather their addresses, and then abduct them. Their headquarters is on Paradise Street, in a building with a red door. Amanda and Kem are likely there. They usually control new girls with drugs and don't hesitate to make an example of those who resist. We should head there directly after landing; I don't want anything bad happening to them."

Brian's eyes lit up; Owen's intelligence was crucial, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. If true, it would significantly reduce their rescue time, as in kidnapping cases, the sooner they act, the higher the chance of success.

Brian initially planned to check Cynthia's place for clues but now had a specific address for the kidnappers, bypassing the most challenging part of the rescue.

The only uncertainty was the accuracy of Owen's information, almost too precise to be true. Yet, Brian felt it was genuine. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Is your source reliable?"

It was impolite to question, but with only 90 hours left, Brian couldn't afford to waste a single minute. He needed to be sure of his information source.

"Reliable," Owen said, unfazed by Brian's skepticism. "You know about the Zenith Building incident, right? I know Jack Bauer, the head of CTU. The information is from them."

Owen had prepared this explanation, attributing his source to CTU, knowing Brian was aware of his actions at the Zenith Building. This made sense given Owen's relationship with CTU.

Indeed, many hostages from the Zenith Building had offered their help should Owen ever need it, all prominent individuals in Los Angeles. However, Owen always felt his role had been minor and was hesitant to call in such favors.

...

France, Charles de Gaulle Airport

As Owen and Brian descended the private jet's stairs, they arrived amidst a crowd due to simultaneous landings. Fortunately, without luggage, they bypassed the most cumbersome part of their journey.

They hurried to the taxi stand, aiming to head straight to Paradise Street.

As they moved towards the back of the queue to find an available taxi, Owen's attention was caught by a conversation.

"Hi, I'm Bruce. Traveling alone?"

"Yes, I'm Jennifer."

"American?"

"Right."

"Paris is a great place with lots to see. I have many American friends who love it here. Oh, and taxis here are expensive. How about we share a ride?"

"Of course, why not?"