Taken

Prologue

Night had fallen across the now empty city. It was late, far past a time anyone should be up. The pale moon hung high in the sky, watching over the sleeping residents of Watson Apartment Complex. The streets of downtown were lonely, moaning in the night for someone to drive across them. Tonight was their lucky night, for one sleek, black van would drive on their surface and screech to a stop in front of the apartment complex.

It was a six man team, all prepared for their mission. Their goal was simple, extract 14 year old Jonathan Crow from the 17th floor, room 12. The giver of these orders was to remain a mystery for the 23 others who were to be taken on this night, August 14th, 2012. They could not fail, for these men knew that the kids were being taken for a greater good.

They all placed on their black masks which would shroud their identities and slowly opened the van door. It squeaked quite loudly, almost loud enough to wake the person at the front desk of the complex, but no one stirred. The group scurried across the pavement like tiny mice would scurry to a piece of old, moldy cheese. The tall, lean buildings that lined the street leaned in to investigate the happening occurring in front of them. The mercenaries lined up against the brick structure, waiting for the go ahead through their walkie talkie.

They were all nervous and scared on the inside, but they could not let it show through to the outside world. They had to be confident in their ability to complete the simple task. As a huge gust of chilling wind crept down the avenue, the mercenaries were given the go ahead from the remaining team member in the van running operations and communications.

The tallest one entered first and slowly opened the glass door entering the still, quiet lobby. The rest followed him, blending into the darkness with their black clothing hugging their bodies. All of the men's steps were quiet and calculated as not to wake the man at the front desk. These measures proved to not be enough as the man at the empty desk rose from his seat in shock. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?" he screamed into the silence. He quickly scrambled for the phone to call security but he was halted by a tranquilizer dart shot into his neck by the lead mercenary. He slumped back into his brown office chair which then fell to the carpeted floor. His body lay in disarray as the group of men sneaked past him to the stainless steel elevator doors. His skin was as cold as ice. The men got one last look at the lobby covered in tables and chairs before the doors closed and they ascended to the 17th floor.

The elevator was old, as it made noises and moans not normal for a new elevator. The noises still did not wake the residents of the apartment complex. It was not long before the men had reached their destination and the doors slowly opened, announcing their grand arrival on Floor 17. The last man exited the elevator just as quietly as the others before him did right before the gleaming elevator doors closed and the elevator retreated away.

The hallway seemed to never end for the men dressed in black traveling down it. A sense of dread filled each of the men's veins. This was real, this was not a dream. Sweat pooled and dripped down each of their faces as they made each tiny step towards room 12. Their footsteps were the only noise echoing in the hallway on that night. The floor noises threatened to wake the sleeping tenants. It wasn't long before room 12 presented itself to the mercenaries. It seemed like the room wanted them to take the teenager sleeping soundly inside.

The lead man picked the lock quietly with the others lined up against the cold wall beside him. His fingers trembled with fear but this did not stop him from entering. He stood up and slowly opened the door. It creaked and moaned, but this did nothing to wake the residents of room 12. Once inside, the men branched to different areas of the apartment. Some continued straight down the hallway to the kitchen, others crept towards the bedroom. The moonlight shined through the windows, exposing the deed these men had to carry out this night. Finally, they had all regrouped by the entrance of Jonathan Crow's bedroom door. The apartment was clear, no one was up.

The lead man slowly opened the door. The fear was now becoming an infection that was spreading throughout his whole body, threatening to end him. He slowly raised up the end of his dart gun, hands shaking like the ground does during an earthquake. He knew that this was wrong what he was doing, but the person who gave the order was very convincing and powerful; someone you don't mess with. He slowly inhaled as a chill ran up his spine, sending a tremor throughout his body. On the exhale, his bony finger hit the trigger, sending the tranquilizer dart whizzing across the room and into the boy's neck.

The boy awoke to a piercing feeling in his neck. He started to rise from his sheets but was stopped by a strange sensation coming over him. A scream froze in his throat as he saw the men standing in his doorway. Fear spread over him, as it did for the lead mercenary. The boy's vision started to blur and his head landed right back down on the soft, squishy pillow. Those armed men were the last thing he saw before his crystal blue eyes were concealed by his eyelids fluttering shut.