On his way out, Drake's uncertainty was palpable. The idea of returning to Woodruff to meet with Hitler Ivanov and to explain the mix-up crossed his mind, but he quickly discarded it as the thought of facing their notorious wrath and the potential torture they may likely subject him to crossed his mind.Desperation, however, drove him to consider another option: pleading with the Simmons family directly. He hoped that by appealing to their humanity, he might find a way out of his dire situation.With Mr and Mrs Wilmont's refusal to help him in speaking with the Simmons' family, it was now left for him to try out his luck. Who knows, they may eventually decide to listen to him and drop the law suit against him and his wife.He flagged down the first taxi that passed by and gave the driver the address of the Simmons’ estate. The journey to the Simmons' estate, which wasn't very long seemed like an interminable one for Drake as he tried to permutate the several possible outcomes that w
"Mr. Sullivan, if you have the least respect for us and our deceased son, you'll leave now." Mrs. Simmons said, seeing that Drake wasn't ready to leave even after all her husband had said to him.Drake’s eyes welled with unspoken emotion, "Please, understand that this wasn’t intentional.""Will you please leave? Just go away before we call security." Mrs. Simmons threatened, but Drake remained unmoved by her threats.The other members of the Simmons family looked at Drake with utter disdain wondering if he was actually listening to what Mr and Mrs. Simmons were saying."Mr. Sullivan, please leave," one of the mourners said, her voice bearing the weight of her anger towards Drake and his wife. "There's no amount of begging that can bring back our Kevin," she began to sob.One of them pulled her to himself, probably her husband, consoling her. "Look, sir," he began as he offered the lady a handkerchief. "What on earth are you begging for? Kevin was an innocent kid who had offended no on
"Mr. Sullivan, you're under arrest," one of the police officers said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Drake struggled as they cuffed his wrists, but it was no use. "Please," he cried out, looking back at the Simmons family one last time. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so sorry."Mr. Simmons’s eyes were cold and unyielding. "Take him away," he ordered the officers.As the police officers led Drake out of the house, he felt a crushing sense of despair. He had come seeking mercy, but all he had found was relentless vengeance. "Please, you have to believe me, I didn't do anything wrong." Drake pleaded.One of the police officers opened the car door, pulling Drake forcefully. "Go in," he commanded.Drake resisted, trying to pull away but the officers were relentless. Ignoring his pleas, they shove him into the back seat of the car and the next thing Drake heard, was
"Officers, lock him up," the chief ordered, before turning to leave."No..., please don't," Drake stuttered, but it was too late, as two burly police officers appeared in front of him almost. immediatelyThey showed no mercy as the pulled Drake up from where he had been sitting. "Please, you have to listen to me and help me talk to the chief. My daughter is crippled and she needs me. My wife is in coma. I'm the only one she has," Drake pleaded, but it all fell on deaf ears.Ignoring Drake's desperate pleas, they shut him up and locked him in a cold, dimly lit cell. Hours dragged by, each minute feeling like an eternity as Drake grappled with the gravity of his situation. His thoughts were consumed with worry for his daughter and the seemingly insurmountable troubles that now surrounded him.As the cell door slammed shut, Drake sank to the floor, overwhelmed by a crushing sense of helplessness. He couldn't imagine how each attempt he made just to solve his problems only ended up landi
One of Hitler's thugs who had been waiting for him outside, walked in to know the state of things and what it was that their boss might want him to do."What's he saying boss?" He asked, approaching with an angry face, as though he wanted to have a fight, forgetting that he was in the police station.Hitler raised a hand, signaling him to stay back. "I have everything under control," he said."If you say so, boss," the thug said, his eyes fixed on Drake, as he gave him a throat slicing gesture."What happened with my package? Who did you sell it to?" Hitler's angry eyes caught a hold of Drake's trembling form. "Let's hear what you have to say for yourself," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "But it better be good.""I didn't do anything with the package," Drake replied, taking a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "Do you think I'm joking?" Hitler asked angrily. "I'm being lenient enough to even give you a chance to explain yourself." His eyes blazed with fury. "If you try
As the minutes ticked by, Drake could only wait, his mind racing with fear and uncertainty concerning what the Simmons' family will do when they finally arrive. Mr. Simmons finally arrived and as he walked in, he looked at Drake scornfully before turning to meet the Chief of police.Drake watched with growing dread as Mr. Simmons, Hitler, and the police chief gathered in a corner of the station, their voices rising and falling as if planning something sinister against him.It happened they were arguing over who should have him, and their words echoed in the room, Drake suddenly felt helpless, a grim reminder of his dire situation. He could see the anger in Hitler's eyes and the cold determination in the expressions of Mr. Simmons.Summoning all his courage, Drake tried once more to plead his case. "Please, I'm innocent! I didn't do anything wrong! This is all a misunderstanding!"One of the officers standing guard by him roughly shoved him back. "Quiet," the officer barked. "You've s
The more Drake continued to plead, the more they made jest of him. It was beginning to appear as though his pleas had the ability to make them laugh as he watched them laugh even harder."Get him out of here," the chief of police ordered the officers who were already pulling him up to drag him away."I told you I'll make sure you and your wife pay for what happened to my son and I wasn't joking when I said it." Mr. Simmons added, his voice filled with malice.Drake's desperation immediately transformed into a seething rage as he realized the gravity of their intentions. He's had enough of their mockery and couldn't stand it anymore.He had really hoped that by swallowing his pride and coming to the point of even going down on his knees, they'd show mercy, but instead, they kept making jest of him.His hands clenched into fists and his face suddenly turned red as he stood, ignoring the rough grip of the officers, and facing the Mr. Simmons, Hitler and the chief of police with a defiant
The officers, following the chief's orders dragged Drake to one of the cells, their expressions indifferent to his plight. "Please," Drake cried as slumped to the floor, his thoughts on what trouble he had put his wife and daughter. He suddenly felt a crushing weight of despair and fury. He knew they wouldn’t relent, and his threats had only made things worse. While Drake was in his prison cell, the realization dawning on him that he was now locked behind bars and more helpless than he used to be, his gaze suddenly shifted to the officer who was standing by the side of his cell, his eyes narrowing as he noticed a familiar tattoo on his wrist. It was a discreet symbol, one that only a true Sullivan would recognize. Drake gestured subtly with his eyes asking the officer to come closer."You're a secret agent who works for the Sullivans' right?" Drake asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed the tattoo on your wrist and only a secret agent of the Sullivans can bear that ta