The Phantom General:Return of the Ex-Convict

Did I Miss Something?

Inside the Grand Sky Hotel, Victor felt like he was on top of the world. He had the girl. He had the money. And his powerful uncle had just taken out the trash.

"Let me go!" Sarah screamed, clawing at his grip.

"Shut up!" Victor raised his hand to hit her. "You should be thanking me! My uncle is General Thunder! Being my wife makes you untouchable in this city!"

CRASH!

The massive glass windows at the front of the hotel exploded inward. Shards of glass rained down over the screaming guests.

Heavy canisters of tear gas rolled across the marble floor.

Hiss—

White smoke filled the room in seconds. The guests shrieked and dove under tables, all their fancy manners gone. Victor coughed violently, his eyes burning as he lost his grip on Sarah.

Sarah dropped to her hands and knees and crawled through the smoke. She found Zoe huddled under a banquet table, shaking. Sarah pulled her daughter against her chest, covering her face from the gas.

"Federal Military! Everybody on the ground!"

Dark figures moved through the smoke. Soldiers in full combat gear dropped from the skylights, their boots slamming onto the floor.

Victor squinted through the burning haze. He saw a huge, familiar shape marching toward him.

"Uncle!" Victor shouted, relief flooding his face. He stumbled toward General Thunder. "Uncle! Thank god! Terrorists are attacking the hotel! Kill them!"

General Thunder stepped out of the smoke. But he wasn't holding a gun. He was gripping a heavy steel riot baton.

"Uncle?" Victor smiled, wiping his streaming eyes. "Did you finish off that convict Luke? Is he dead?"

Thunder didn't answer. He walked straight up to Victor, his chest heaving.

"Uncle, why are you looking at me like th—"

CRACK!

Thunder swung the steel baton with everything he had, smashing it into Victor's right knee.

"ARGHHH!"

Victor's scream tore through the hall. He collapsed, clutching his ruined leg.

"Uncle!" Victor shrieked, tears pouring down his face. "It's me! It's Victor! Why did you hit me?!"

"You dare attack civilians?!" Thunder roared, spit flying. "You dare drag the military's name through the mud?! You're a traitor to the Empire!"

Thunder raised the baton again.

WHACK! He smashed Victor's ribs.

WHACK! He smashed Victor's arm — the same arm that had dragged Sarah by her hair.

Within thirty seconds, the arrogant young master of the Vance family was a sobbing, bleeding mess crawling on the floor.

"Arrest him!" Thunder ordered his men, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his face. "If anyone from the Vance family fights back, shoot them on sight!"

Sarah peeked out from behind the overturned table, clutching Zoe tight.

Thunder froze. He saw Sarah. The fierce rage on his face vanished, replaced by panic.

"We're leaving!" Thunder shouted, terrified that Luke might walk in and see him still standing there. "Move out! Clear the area!"

The soldiers dragged the unconscious Victor out the back exit like a dead dog, leaving a trail of blood. Thunder ran out after them as if death itself was chasing him.

Silence returned to the wrecked wedding hall.

Sarah sat against the wall, hugging Zoe. She was safe. The nightmare was over. But she was alone. Luke was gone, taken by the military.

"Luke..." she sobbed, burying her face in Zoe's hair.

Creak.

The broken pieces of the main door pushed open.

Sarah flinched and looked up.

It wasn't enemies. It was Luke. His handcuffs were gone.

In his left hand, he held a plastic bag that smelled like greasy street dumplings. In his right hand, he held a cheap apple juice box.

"Daddy?" Zoe whispered.

Luke's cold face instantly softened. He stepped casually over the pool of Victor's blood and walked toward them.

"Luke?" Sarah gasped, standing on shaky legs. "How... how are you here? General Thunder arrested you!"

Sarah stared at the dumplings, then at the blood on the floor. None of this made sense. General Thunder had just beaten his own nephew half to death, and Luke just... walked back in?

Luke shrugged, holding up the plastic bag.

"Oh, that? Complete mix-up," Luke lied smoothly, flashing a helpless smile. "Once we got in the car, they checked my ID and realized they had the wrong guy. They dropped me off a block away."

Before Sarah could ask the dozens of questions in her head, Luke knelt down, smiling warmly at Zoe.

"Since I was already out, I grabbed some dumplings. I remembered my little girl gets hungry when she cries."

He held out the juice box. "Here, princess. Apple juice."

"So," Luke looked at Sarah with innocent, clueless eyes. "Did I miss anything?"

Zoe reached out a tiny, trembling hand to take the juice. Her fingers brushed the cardboard.

Splat.

The juice box hit the floor.

"Ah!" Zoe screamed, clutching her wrist — the same wrist Victor had squeezed at the altar.

Her eyes rolled back. Her frail body went limp, collapsing forward.

"Zoe!" Sarah shrieked, lunging to catch her. "Luke! She's burning up!"

Luke's smile vanished. The clumsy father was gone. In a split second, the room seemed to drop temperature. The man holding Zoe's limp wrist wasn't just a father anymore.

Her wrist was swollen and dark purple. The bone was broken. The pain had finally pushed her weak body into shock.

Luke looked up at Sarah. His eyes were completely black.

"She needs a hospital," he said, his voice low and tight. "Now."