In a futuristic theme park, kneeled civilians arranged circularly, each separated by a terrorist with a measuring tape.
"Ok, 145 cm…move here," he tapped on the ground to indicate where the hostages should shuffle.
Looking with satisfaction at the distance of 146 centimeters separating them, the terrorist walked back to his gun-wielding companions holding raven-black gauss rifles tightly.
"Seriously, I think our boss has OCD, man…do we need them to be separated exactly this distance?" One of the terrorists grumbled.
Another strolled towards a heavily armored man who resembled a military officer rather than a terrorist.
"He's here, boss?" uttered of the hijackers, the confidant to the boss, a higher trustee than the rest of the cannon fodder around them.
"You say that, but I don't see him." the boss said with a rough accent, similar to a delinquent choking on a razor blade. He looked everywhere, ignoring the snipers far away from him.
