The Impossible Land
"No, Lawrence. I have something else to do," Charlie Lee said as he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to him. "If you're ever in trouble, call me."
In Lawrence regretful gaze, Charlie and Ben boarded the bus, which rumbled steadily toward their next destination—the club.
"Boss, I've finalized the agreement with Samuel," Ben began. "All shares of the industries under his name will be acquired by the Blue and White Chamber of Commerce for just one cent. Next, we'll absorb the shares from the stock market, start delisting, and transition to privatization. After that, we'll review the companies thoroughly, eliminate redundant operations, and initiate a reorganization and integration plan."
Pausing for a moment, Ben added, "Samuel will retain 5% of the original shares in the new group and take the role of group president."
"Group president?" Charlie raised an eyebrow, surprised. He had assumed Samuel would be disheartened and retire.
"Yes, Samuel wants to continue running the company, and I believe his leadership will help the group recover quickly and grow stronger."
There was no doubt about Samuel's capability—rising from a personal assistant at Edison to the executive level at General Electric, and then building an empire worth $500 million was no small feat.
"How much investment are we talking about?" Charlie asked.
"Under $30 million. The current stock prices are like waste paper, and retail investors are desperate to sell. I'll handle it efficiently," Ben replied confidently.
Charlie scoffed. "Thirty million, huh? Capitalism really is something. For just $30 million, I'll own it all. Wasn't Samuel's initial offer $100 million and 15% of the shares? The audacity!"
"Boss, have you thought about the name of the new group?" Ben asked as the car came to a halt in front of the club.
"Exelon," Charlie said with a grin. "Ace."
"Exelon—it's a good name," Ben agreed, waving as he disappeared into the club with the bodyguards following close behind.
As plans progressed, funds quietly flowed from the stock market into Charlie's private accounts. Within days, a significant portion of the profits would be distributed among the participants in the scheme. The think tank's elites, envious but motivated, eagerly awaited the next big project.
However, Charlie had already decided this would be his last stock market venture. He wasn't going to gamble his fortune again unless he somehow lived to see 2008, the era of the subprime mortgage crisis—his last known opportunity.
Back at the barracks in Area 22, Charlie called George to his room. After hearing George's account, he smirked. "Clean and efficient—no loose ends. Beautiful work."
Writing out a $20,000 check, Charlie handed it to George. "You've earned it."
Thrilled, George left to share the good news with Rybal and Ryan. For them, the extra $20,000 was a windfall.
Later, as Charlie returned to his room, he found his secretary doesn't present in room. With a frown, he thought, Doesn't she know the kind of man I am?
he muttered, sitting beside a bed and contemplating a little payback for her carefree attitude. But before he could act, a loud knock on the door interrupted him.
"What's going on?" Charlie asked as he opened the door.
"A woman called," Lao Huang, his trusted lieutenant, explained. "She said your friend Lawrence has been kidnapped."
Before Lao Huang could finish, Charlie was already storming out of the room, belt in hand, tucking his shirt into his trousers. "Wang Dagou! Take 20 men and arm up. We're going in!"
Four cars roared into the slums of South Chicago, known as "The Impossible Land." Violence, crime, and desperation defined this black settlement. It was a place outsiders feared, and even the brave thought twice before entering.
The convoy pulled up in front of the Jack-o'-Lantern Bar. Armed bodyguards formed a perimeter, scanning the lifeless streets.
"I'm here for my friend," Charlie shouted. "He's a young white man. Hand him over, and we'll leave peacefully."
The silence was broken by a voice from inside. "So, you're his friend?"
"Yes," Charlie replied firmly. "What do you want?"
The voice turned menacing. "Your friend stole something from me. Let's see if he's willing to tell me where it is."
"Fine," Charlie agreed. Unbuttoning his coat, he slowly drew his Colt Python revolver and tossed it aside. "I'm coming in," he called, stepping forward.
"Boss, this place is dangerous," warned Wang Dagou.
"It's fine," Charlie reassured him with a knowing wink.
The entrance led to a maze of filthy alleys and ramshackle buildings. Two armed men stopped Charlie and searched him before leading him deeper into the labyrinth.
Inside, the air reeked of sewage, and the dim light barely revealed the squalor around him. Charlie couldn't believe such a place existed in Chicago.
"Let's go," one of the men urged, pressing a shotgun against his back.
So this is The Impossible Land, Charlie thought grimly. No rules, no mercy. Just survival.
Despite the stench and danger, Charlie remained calm. He knew that he needed to buy time and find a way to rescue Aria without bloodshed.
As they approached the heart of the settlement, Charlie's resolve hardened. He wasn't leaving without his friend—and he'd make sure everyone knew that crossing him came at a steep price.