You struggled, trying to get your hands untied. Of course, it wasn’t working out so well. You kept struggling until the man who had taken you hostage grabbed your chin and forced your covered gaze upward to where you assumed his face was.

“Well, well…if it isn’t Mr. Presidents Daughter...such a pretty face, wouldn’t you say boys?”

A few men laughed but were quickly shut up when the man who was talking snapped at them. He pulled the blindfold off. You saw him. The man behind all crime.