American exorcism chronicles, Chapter 221
Renard had never imagined that one day, someone would easily take him hostage with nothing but a handgun in his own precinct's underground parking garage. "I'm sorry, sir. My orders permit the use of force if necessary, and from what I know of you, that provision is very necessary."
As the man behind him spoke in Irish-accented English, he reached over and took the Police Inspector's service weapon.
"Long time no see, Woolsey." Renard turned his head slightly, his expression unchanged, to look at the man holding him at gunpoint. His right hand, tucked into his trench coat pocket, had already swiftly unlocked his phone. A few presses of its physical keypad sent a distress text.
Keeping a Nokia with physical keys as a backup really was a wise decision, he thought.
The middle-aged man he called Woolsey was thin and wore a leather newsboy cap of the sort often seen in the British series Peaky Blinders, the kind with a snap fastening the short brim at the front to the crown.
"Your younger cousin wants to see you." He glanced around. Although there was almost no one around at this hour, this was still a police station parking garage.
"Sounds like something important?" To be honest, Renard had not expected them to be this bold. He had let his guard down after all, but he was not particularly alarmed.
"Yes, sir. And I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you to drive." Although Woolsey held Renard at gunpoint, his manner remained very respectful, as though to say he was merely following orders and asking Renard not to make things difficult for a subordinate.
Forty minutes later, Renard's black Suburban pulled into an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. Inside the pitch-black, dilapidated factory building,