Chapter 1 : WHAT HAPPENED INTO YOU ARM?
On the quiet roads of Dubai, cars roared, a high-speed chase unfolding. A police convoy pursued a blue and white Mustang Shelby, the stolen vehicle weaving erratically through Jumeirah Road. “We have the location of the stolen Mustang…I repeat.. we have the location of the stolen Mustang,” a voice crackled over the police radio, reporting to other units. A helicopter buzzed overhead, “We have visual confirmation,” answered another policeman over the radio. The stolen Mustang was driven by Michael, disguised as The Jackal; he stole it at an auction event.
Elizabeth, gripping the radio in her patrol car, her knuckles white, urged, “Speed up! Speed up!” Her voice was tight with anticipation. “We’ve got you now,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed on the distant taillights.
Alex, her colleague, sat beside her, a grim smile playing on his lips. “Today, we finally see the Jackal,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “We’ve got him cornered.”
The chase culminated at the end of an unfinished construction bridge, a dead end. Michael, trapped, spun the Mustang around, facing the police convoy. He slammed the car to a halt.
Elizabeth, her heart pounding, stepped out of the car, megaphone raised. “Step out of the car! It’s over!” she shouted, her voice amplified. “Hands behind your back, now!” she shouted, pointing at Michael’s car with her other hand.
Michael, a manic grin stretching across his face, revved the engine. He was waiting for the right moment to escape. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he drove the Mustang off the edge of the bridge, plunging into the river. Elizabeth, her eyes widening in disbelief, fired her gun, the shot hitting Michael’s shoulder as the car plunged into the river.
Michael, gritting his teeth against the pain, knew the plan. Beneath the bridge, a waiting boat was ready to receive him. The Mustang landed on the boat’s deck, and they sped away, disappearing into the maze of other vessels. The helicopter tried to tail them but ended up losing them as they quickly mixed themselves with other boats of the same color.
“No! No, no, no!” Elizabeth shouted, her voice filled with frustration. “Damn it! I was so close!” She turned to Alex, her eyes blazing. “Where are we going to find him now?” she asked, banging the car door angrily.
“We’re close,” Alex reassured her, his voice calm. “One more mistake, and we’ll have him. Trust me, don’t worry,” he said, trying to comfort her. They climbed back into their car, leaving the other officers to gather any potential evidence.
Meanwhile, back at Samuel’s warehouse, where they planned all their missions and stored their stolen goods, Michael and his crew celebrated their successful heist. Laughter and cheers filled the air. “You did it again, man!” someone exclaimed, clapping Michael on the back. “You’re a legend! Born for this!”
Michael, wincing slightly, laughed. “Just a simple rule: in and out. You know the drill.”
The celebration abruptly ceased as Samuel, flanked by Jackson, entered the room. A hush fell over the crowd. Samuel walked towards Michael, his arms outstretched. “My son,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “You’ve made me proud again.” He hugged Michael tightly, then noticed the bandage on his shoulder. “What happened there?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “How did you get hurt?”
“It’s nothing, Father,” Michael replied, his voice strained. “Just a scratch.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “I know you, son. You’re hiding something,” he said, pausing to look at the wound. “Did your wife do this? Did she shoot you?”
“She didn’t know it was me,” Michael said, his jaw clenching. “She was shooting at the Jackal.”
“Do you think she wouldn’t have if she knew?” Samuel challenged, his voice cold.
Before Michael could respond, Jackson interjected, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Look how badly you’re wounded, brother. I told you, we should get rid of her. We have all the information we need, right, Father?”
Michael’s eyes flashed with anger. “I told you, we’re not doing that! She’s my wife! I love her!”
“But will she love you if she finds out you’re the Jackal?” Jackson taunted, his eyes glinting.
“How would she find out?” Michael retorted, his voice rising. “You’d tell her?”
“Oh, brother,” Jackson said, his smile widening. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I can’t. It would endanger not just you, but the entire empire Father has built.”
“What do you mean?” Michael demanded, his face flushed. “You think I’d betray Father? The business that raised me?”
“I don’t know,” Jackson said, a hint of malice in his voice. “Would you?”
Michael lunged at Jackson, shoving him against the wall. He raised his fist, but before he could strike, Samuel roared, “Enough!” He glared at both of them. “Is this what we do now? Fight amongst ourselves? What example are you setting?” He turned to Michael, his expression disappointed. “I expected better from you.”
“Sorry, Father,” Michael said, his shoulders slumping. “It’s just that...”
“This is where you keep quiet,” Samuel interrupted, his voice sharp. “Go get some air.”
As Michael turned to leave, Samuel called out, “I hope what Jackson said isn’t true, because I trust my son. And I expect you to take over if something happens to me.”
Jackson’s face contorted with rage as Michael left the room. Michael, his face a mask of conflict, followed shortly after. Before Michael left, he changed out of his Jackal disguise and put on his construction clothes and glasses, the ones he wore in front of Elizabeth.
Michael entered his house, carrying his backpack. “Hey, love, how are you?” he greeted Elizabeth, closing the door behind him.
“I am fine, baby,” Elizabeth answered, chopping vegetables in the kitchen angrily. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoed through the house.
“You don’t seem fine...is everything okay?” Michael asked, shocked and worried by his wife’s aggressive chopping.
Elizabeth slammed the knife on the table, turned to face Michael, and answered angrily, “I am fine, Michael! What could possibly make me not fine?” She sat down on a chair and leaned on the table, her elbows supporting her head, looking down.
Michael approached Elizabeth from behind and gently brushed her back, comforting her. “Talk to me, baby. What happened? Is it me, or is it work?”
Elizabeth, her voice filled with pain, said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I can’t catch that guy. It’s like I don’t know how to do my job. I’ve been trying so hard all these years, but it seems impossible. It’s like he knows every move I make. This time, I was sure I was going to catch him. I planned a perfect plan for him, but...” She sighed, her eyes filled with rage and tears. “Are we talking about the Jackal?” Michael asked, his voice laced with sarcastic sympathy. “Don’t worry, baby. All criminals slip up eventually. He’ll mess up, and that’s when you’ll get him. So, don’t stress yourself thinking you can’t do your job. You’re the only person I know who loves and cares about her job so much. Please, stop beating yourself up about it.”
Elizabeth felt a surge of joy as her husband cheered her up and felt encouraged. “Thanks, babe,” she said, brushing his arm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You always find the right words to comfort me.” As she brushed his arm, she felt something sticky on her hand. She looked down and saw that it was blood coming from Michael’s shoulder. “What is this now?” Elizabeth said, noticing the blood. She stood up and saw that Michael had a bandage on his shoulder, the same shoulder she shot The Jackal. Elizabeth looked at Michael suspiciously. “Michael...what happened to your shoulder? How did you get hurt?” Michael looked around, trying to think of an excuse, realizing he was in trouble.
