Chapter 9. #3
Niels stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as he leaned against the wall, his face paling under the lamp's unforgiving light.
"I don't have a choice, man. You don't get it…
they have Tina. My Tina." His voice broke on her name, and he pulled out his phone with shaking fingers, thrusting it toward Hendric.
On the screen was a grainy video clip, timestamped just hours ago: Tina, bound and gagged in a dingy warehouse, her eyes wide with terror, bruises blooming on her cheeks.
A masked figure loomed over her, knife glinting in the low light, whispering threats into the camera.
"Use the subpar steel, cut the reinforcements by half, skimp on the concrete mix…
or we start with her fingers, then move to worse.
Rape her slow, make her scream for you. Then kill her.
And if you breathe a word to the cops or Thomson...
she's gone." The video ended with Tina's muffled sob, and Niels shoved the phone back into his pocket, his eyes welling up.
"That competitor… it's gotta be Vargas from Apex Builds.
He's been gunning for Dranning’s contracts for years.
He knows this project could put him out of business.
And now... he's got leverage. Real leverage. "
Hendric's jaw clenched, his mind racing through the implications.
The shelter wasn't just any build… it was one of three…
a crown jewel of Thomson's new community, designed to withstand Category 5 hurricanes, earthquakes up to 8.
0 on the Richter scale, shelter the homeless.
But with subpar materials? Rusted steel beams that would corrode in the salty coastal air, thinned concrete that would crack under stress, skipped seismic reinforcements...
it wouldn't last six months, let alone years.
Hundreds could die… families, kids, the vulnerable folks Thomson aimed to protect.
And if it traced back to them? Prison, bankruptcy, or worse…
Vargas's thugs coming after their own families next.
Hendric had a daughter in college, a wife who'd stuck by him through lean times.
This wasn't just a job; it was their lives on the line.
"We can't do this," Hendric said, his voice low and fierce, stepping closer to Niels, gripping his friend's shoulder hard enough to bruise.
"We've built our names on solid work. Remember the '08 quake retrofit?
We saved lives then. This... this would undo everything.
But going to the cops? Vargas probably has insiders there…
half the force is on someone's payroll in this city. "
Niels nodded miserably, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I know. God, I know. But Tina... she's everything to me. Twenty-five years married, Hendric. What would you do if it was Sarah?"
The question hung heavy, twisting like a knife in Hendric's gut.
He released Niels's shoulder and turned away, staring at the blueprints as if they held some hidden solution.
The office felt smaller, the shadows closing in, the distant hum of LA's night traffic a mocking reminder of the world outside their nightmare.
After a long, tense silence, Hendric straightened, his decision made.
"Let me handle this. You stay here, keep it together. Don't touch those plans until I say."
Niels nodded weakly, sinking into a chair as Hendric retreated to his cramped inner office, the door clicking shut behind him like a finality.
The small space was bare-bones: a metal desk, a flickering fluorescent light, stacks of permits and invoices teetering on the edge.
Hendric pulled out his phone, his thick fingers hovering over the screen.
It was two-seventeen a.m. now… not the hour to disturb someone like Thomson, the man who owned half the skyline…
the new owner of Dranning Corporation… a man who had more power in his finger than Hendric had in his life, and could make or break careers with a whim.
But desperate times called for desperate measures.
He dialed the emergency number he'd been given a few days ago, for "situations that couldn't wait. "
The line rang twice, three times, each trill amplifying his anxiety. Finally, a groggy female voice answered, laced with irritation. "Hello...?"
"Miss Mann? It's Hendric Johns, the foreman on the northside community project."
A pause, then a rustle of sheets and a muffled curse. "Do you have any idea what time it is, Mr. Johns?" Her tone was sharp, professional even in exhaustion… Holly Mann, one of Thomson's right-hand women, the gatekeeper who handled the dirty details so her boss could sleep soundly.
"I do, and I'm truly sorry," Hendric replied, his voice steady despite the knot in his stomach. "But we have a crisis here. A real one."
He heard her sit up, the bed creaking faintly in the background. "You'd better. You're lucky Mr. Thomson didn't pick up… he's a light sleeper, and he'd have your head for this. What is the situation? And make it quick; I'm not in the mood for dramatics."
Hendric took a deep breath, glancing at the door to ensure Niels wasn't eavesdropping.
"It's my partner, Mr. Unling… Niels. His wife, Tina...
she's been kidnapped. Grabbed right from their home two days ago.
We've got proof… a video. The bastards sent it to his phone.
They're demanding we sabotage the shelter build.
Use lower-grade steel, cut corners on the foundations, thin out the reinforcements.
Make it so the whole thing collapses within a year.
If we don't... they say they'll rape her, torture her, kill her slow.
And if we go to the police or tell anyone, same deal.
It's got to be Vargas from Apex… he's been underbidding us on every contract, and this project would bankrupt him. "
Holly's voice sharpened, all traces of sleep vanishing. "Kidnapped? You're sure this isn't some hoax? Blackmail in construction isn't new, but this... this is escalation."
"I wish it was a hoax," Hendric said grimly, his free hand clenching into a fist. "Niels is a wreck…
haven't seen him like this since his dad died.
The video shows her tied up, beaten. Masked guys with knives, accents that scream hired muscle.
They're pros, Miss Mann. And the demands...
if we comply, that shelter becomes a death trap.
But if we don't... Tina's gone. Niels's family is destroyed.
And Vargas? He's connected… rumors say he runs with cartels for his imports.
This could blow back on the whole project, on Mr. Thomson.
Delays, investigations, bad press. Or worse… people dying when it fails."
A long silence stretched on the line, broken only by Holly's measured breathing.
Hendric could picture her: poised, calculating, already plotting moves in that razor-sharp mind of hers.
Finally, she spoke, her voice cold steel.
"Send me the video. Everything… timestamps, any details on the sender.
Don't breathe a word to anyone else. Not the cops, not your crew.
And stall on the build if you have to… fake a supply delay. Leave this to me. We'll handle it."
The line went dead, leaving Hendric staring at his phone, his heart pounding. He forwarded the video as instructed, then stepped back into the main office. Niels looked up, hope flickering in his haunted eyes. "What'd she say?"
"She's on it," Hendric replied, forcing a confidence he barely felt. "But this just got a whole lot messier, buddy. Hang in there… we're in deep now."