The screech of high-performance tires suddenly tore through the silence. Julian spun around just as a matte-black SUV jumped the curb, sliding across the pedestrian plaza. It stopped inches from Julian’s legs, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air. Before he could utter a word, the doors flew open.
Five figures clad in unmarked black gear and ballistic masks swarmed the square. They moved with a chilling, synchronized speed. Julian’s “tough guy” persona evaporated instantly. “Do you have any idea who my father is?” he shrieked, his voice hitting a high-pitched note of terror. The men ignored his status. They neutralized the cameramen and seized Julian, dragging him toward the vehicle. As the door slammed shut, Julian looked back at the Guard. The soldier remained perfectly still, but a glint in his eye suggested he was no longer a victim.
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