Collaborative Story Dock One

Paris street annomyus(Dock One Collaborative Story Continued from previous posts.)

“I know you have the key, where is it?” her father motioned toward the contents of her purse spread on the bed.
Marian observed the photo among her personal items.
“Give me the key now.” He smashed a chair against the wall.
“Why should I?” She controlled the quiver in her voice. “Tell me what you’re after.”
“We have a common goal. Save your mother.”
“My mother? She disappeared when I was ten.”
“I don’t have time to explain. Give me the key.”
“Where is she? Don’t lie to me.”
“She’s being held hostage somewhere in this Godforsaken city. The key must remain out of their hands.” Marian plucked the key from her cleavage. Her mother must be the prisoner in the faded photo.
He grabbed the key then stuffed it in his pocket. “Your mother’s abductors are evil. You must escape them.” His voice deepened, “Gen, get her on a plane to San Francisco.”
“Yes, yes,” Gen said, with a catch in her voice, almost a sob.
“Get going.” He shooed them toward the door.
Marian grasped her father’s wrist. “No.” Her lips trembled.
He turned his face away from her. “I can’t lose both—”
She interrupted him, “They intend to kill you.”
“You know nothing.” He thrust his chin to Gen, “Take her away.”
“The dock money wasn’t touched,” Marian said, her voice firm. “This isn’t about ransom. What have you done that someone would want revenge?”
Her father’s facial expression flashed a look of agreement, but it changed to anger. “That’s not your concern.” He positioned himself at the door, with his hand on the knob for her departure. “You must stay safe.”
“Father, you’re the one who forced me into a dreary career. Let me do something worthwhile now. It’s my mother’s life at stake and probably because of you.”
“I’m coming too. She’s my sister, and it’s my freedom on the line,” said Gen.
“You’re retired from the agency.”
“I still have a few good years left in me, and I have my service weapon here.”
“The three of us have to save the mother I never knew. We must work together,” said Marian.
Her father rubbed his forehead and grimaced. “I’ll make the arrangements for the meet.”

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