Jacques was sitting on a bench near the bus station. A cigarette stick was hanging from his fingers, while the other hand held a mobile phone. He was talking to one of his direct subordinates and giving him instructions.
The heads of the organization mobilized all of their manpower in order to search for a girl that was less than ten years old and they didn't even know her face.
A mission that was deemed to be impossible, but here he was, talking to one of his men and hoping that they "might" get lucky in their random search.
"Sir, are you sure about this?" the man on the other line asked in a serious tone. "Almost everyone has that hair color. Even my own daughter has that hair color."
"Just keep an eye for any suspicious looking children wandering on the streets," Jacques replied. He was on his fifth call and he was very tired from receiving the same response over and over again.
