Jerry paced the quiet streets, his mind racing with anxiety over Mike's situation. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pavement. As darkness settled in, he decided to call the man in sharpshooters, despite the apprehension that coursed through him.
With trembling fingers, Jerry dialed the ominous number. The phone rang twice before a gravelly voice answered, "What do you want, Jerry?"
"I need to know if Mike is okay," Jerry said, his voice shaky. "I need assurance that he's unharmed."
There was a sinister chuckle on the other end of the line, sending chills down Jerry's spine. "He's alive, for now. But remember, Jerry, every action has consequences."
Jerry felt a cold sweat forming on his brow. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, dealing with a man who showed no remorse in hurting others. "I'm doing what you asked. I'm investigating Greg. Just tell me what you want from me, and let Mike go."
