"Langley... Langley has been bombed!"
...
Ten minutes ago!
CIA headquarters, at Langley's entrance.
A man in a duckbill cap smoked a cigarette as he sat in a pickup, his eyes gloomy and hesitant, his hand reaching out of the window with a cigarette between his fingers.
The phone on the passenger seat rang, he violently turned his head, stuck the cigarette in his mouth, and hastily picked up the phone.
"Daddy!" a voice cried out in terror from the other end.
"Sneck!" the man quickly shouted back.
But the voice on the other end changed, sounding like a frog, probably voice-altered, "Do as we said, and we'll release your son."
The man clutched the phone tightly, "Don't you lie to me! Otherwise, I'll make sure you die a gruesome death!"
The person on the other end didn't even snicker, just hung up the phone directly.
Grinding his teeth, he started the vehicle and drove towards the CIA headquarters; painted on his truck was: XXX Milk.
In the back of the pickup were boxes.
