THE RETURN Of the LEGENDARY KING of WAR

Fake Identity

The meeting room is tense so far, and they have been in it for a few last minutes.

Andrew sits at the head of the long wooden table, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of the people gathered. Half of them couldn’t see his gaze. The air feels so thick with suspicion, it wasn't frequent that he would venture out in such a manner but this felt like he had to.

"Someone's leaking information," he says, voice low, but freezingly firm. "And until we find who it is, no one leaves without clearance." He mutters to the people at the table who look at him with immense fear.

A younger man to his right shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “We checked the systems. No breach.” he reports.

Andrew shoots him an icy glare. “Then there's someone inside, because there is no way to explain how this information got to the press.”

He stares at the newspaper that has triggered him that morning with the title:

-BILLIONAIRE CEO BACK IN TOWN -

A MANIPULATOR OR SCAVENGER?

He forcefully squeezes the paper and dumps it away from where he was.

Mason, standing at the far end, clears his throat. “I’ve begun internal investigations, Master. Be rest assured that it won’t take long to find the traitor.”

“It better not,” Andrew mutters. “I don’t have time for backstabbers. If I find out who’s behind this, they won’t have hands left to leak anything again.”

The others around the table nodded silently. Some nervously, others just pretending to understand how serious this was.

After another twenty minutes of discussion, Andrew stands to his feet, his imposing figure filling the room. “We’re done here for today. Send me updates every two hours. No delays.”

He didn’t wait for replies. He leaves the room quickly, his black coat flaring behind him.

Outside the building, two of his men await him beside a sleek black car. They salute him immediately as he walks toward the car.

“I’ll head home alone,” he says.

The taller guard, Mace, frowns. “Sir, it’s not safe.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’m just going home to get some drinks, then head out for a drink. That is all. Get something else to do.”

Without another word, Andrew shuffles into a different car parked nearby—one he likes to drive himself when he doesn't feel like being followed around. He hates the feeling of being watched. He needs a break from all of this.

Moments like this made him miss his former Life. At least, there was less drama.

As he drives, he tries not to get himself distracted.

The roads are quiet, the city lights casting reflections on his windshield. He didn’t play music, just driving in silence, his mind running through everything that had been discussed at the meeting.

He pulls into the driveway of his penthouse and parks in the underground garage.

No one was in sight as soon as he got out at first. Instead, the house was dark, just pitch dark.

That was the first red flag he noticed. There is something about the house that he couldn't quite place at first.

He takes the elevator to his floor. The hallway is also dark, save for the light flickering.

His keys were already in his hand, but before he reached the door, he felt it.

Movements around him, it is very obvious that there is someone behind him.

He pivotes sharply, but it is too late. A blow strikes the back of his head, hard and sudden.

Andrew falls to his knees, and he can feel his vision already blurring.

Before he can react, two strong hands grab him, and a sack is pulled over his head.

“Let go of me, you bastards!” he grits out, struggling.

But the men were quick and too coordinated. No one says a word, as he was hit again and again till he loses consciousness

His arms are tied, his legs kicked out from under him.

One last time, his eyes open again, before everything goes dark from inside the car that drives him away.

The phone buzzes, and at first, Mason eyes the number, not feeling that bit of urge. Call it a feeling of uncertainty, or perhaps, seeing it was a strange number, he hesitates two more times, and only picks on the third ring.

“Hello?" His voice has that bit of edge to it, gentle, yet carrying the heavy weight of anxiety.

“It is one of the men from the fifth brigade " A trembling voice comes from the other end.

"Yes?” Mason replies, a bit puzzled. "What is wrong? You sound a bit… tense."

There is a bit of silence from the other end, almost as if he is hesitating to speak, almost like he was too fearful.

"It is the commander, he is… He is lost." He stammers.

It feels unusual at that minute as it is hard for him to process. Mason couldn't bring himself to believe the manner of scandal the matter could create, at the same time, he is weighing the matter so deep at the back of his mind, like, how is that even possible?

‘What could have gone wrong?’ Mason thinks as all manner of thoughts run through his mind.

“Didn't any of the men go with him to the apartment?”

"I woke up only a minute ago, I was ambushed as well." He coughs.

The eerily silence persists for more than a few seconds that is filled with nothing but his own silent heartbeats. He didn't know what to say. Should he call Baron?

Was this one of his masteri games?

Thought fills the back of his mind.

Each thud from Mason’s heart echoes through the room as he evaluates the severity of the situation.

At this point he was furious. “How in the hell did you let this happen!" He roars.

“I don't know—" the man tries to answer but…

“I have always known you all were incompetent, but this right here is just loads of crap!” He cuts him off in anger.

“I called because I… I was worried, what are we going to do?” The man questions with a trembling voice over the phone.

"We?” Mason scoffs. "Find a way to fix this and hope to yourself he is fine… Now, get off!”

His heart is still beating heavily. He paces the length of the room, still angered by the entire situation. He is confused at the entire situation and still, the last thing he Wanted was the news getting out.

On second thought, Mason stops abruptly and picks up his phone, dialing one of the contacts of one of the majors.

“Assemble the men.” He orders the moment the call connects. “You need to move swiftly! The boss had been kidnapped, and we need to find him before this gets to the press!”

It is one of those moments he feels the need to do something. If there is anyone that knows this, it should most definitely be the person at the other end of the call.

Then, Mason cocks a brow in a cavalier way. In a sense, he is still finding it hard to believe or process the situation. Hell, how can a commander be kidnapped?! Who could have pulled this off?

Just hours ago, he is here and under the impression that everything is fine, and just out of the blue, he is getting this news?

“Crap, crap, crap! I hope he is fine…” he sighs deeply while muttering to himself.

His feet take him forward, stopping right beside his desk. Mason stretches his arm, pulls out his drawer and in it, lies a gun, his revolver. He has to get involved in this too. He checks the bullet compartment.

Whoever was behind this has to be the most stupidest person alive, because who kidnaps a commander?

He raises his head up and chuckles.

Maybe it was a way of finding loopholes In all of this drama afterall.

With his right hand holding the gun, he raises the other towards his ears and then says six words…

“Check if his tracker is on."

********

In a dark secluded location, the saloon car comes to a stop. In front of a building, the occupant of the car is dragged out with his face covered with a black sack across the yard until they get to a door.

Conscious now, Andrew's heart flutters so fast it couldn’t be healthy. However, while the people leading him would think otherwise, Andrew knows it isn't fear, just nothing but willingness and curiosity.

When they halt finally, they take off the sack as his eyes flutter before adjusting to the light that beamed through the room shimmering from the bulb above.

All that fills the room were these shifty gazes between the abducted man and those that took him. It is enough to send a tense feeling around the room, and the man's fury is obvious in his stare at them, anger burning in his eyes by how he was being treated.

“Who are you, and why am I here?!" His voice comes out a bit tense as demands answers. "You are making a grave mistake! You got the wrong guy, it would be better if you just let me go, and maybe we can forget about this.”

He looks around where they had brought him to. If there is anything that appears to annoy Andrew even more, it is not just the fact that they abducted him, but the fact that he is being bloody ignored. Apparently they didn't know who he was.

It ignites a bitter feeling in him as he looks around the room.

It is secluded and empty, the last place anyone would check.

"Why am I here, I deserve answers!”

"You," one orders, pointing a chin at Andrew. "Tape his lips."

He tries to struggle, but with his mouth taped, only muffled sounds escape as they keep dragging him along until they reach another door.

Outside the room, Andrew is made to sit on a bench. He leans back with his heart still thudding wildly, while looking so frustrated. In his eyes was this emptiness, and anger. Beneath this anger, is a never ending darkness toward these men. Despite his courage, questions race through his mind… a puzzle he can't yet solve.

“Boss will talk to him now.”

For the first time since his abduction, Andrew's hands aren't bound as he's shoved into the room. He scratches the scruff on his jaw, like he's angry at it—and just as confused—while his dark piercing eyes roam the entire space.

The look in his eyes should have been dangerous for anyone involved, especially the men that had brought him in. But none of them appeared concerned.

Andrew slams his hand against the door, pissed, the moment it is shut behind him. At this point, he couldn't tell at all what this was all about.

To keep himself from getting more agitated, he walks towards the light in the distance.

Behind the curtain, he takes in the sight of everyone gathered there. A soft wind drifts through the room as he listens to the low chatter and the rough scrape of voices filling the yard.

Yet, it does nothing to ease the lingering anger that burns inside him.

Being here might be unpleasant, but it's far too easy to meet their eyes. It doesn't matter that the last person he locked eyes with was a man kneeling on the ground.

They force him to sit in front of a man who feels like a boss. Andrew smirks… well, for now because right under their nose…

He switches on the tracker hidden on the side of his watch.