Chapter 76: Seeking Help from the IA

After releasing Park Min-hee’s hands and feet, the man did not act further; instead, he kicked her to the ground and vanished from the range of the surveillance camera, possibly leaving the room.

In the footage, Park Min-hee soon entered a dreamlike state. Having been bound, she had struggled to suppress the fever burning within her body, feeling an unbearable swelling in her lower abdomen. The sensation intensified until her whole body seemed aflame and her mind began to spiral into delirium. She saw, in her fevered imagination, her brother Yunfei gently caressing her. The lucid part of her mind cried out, “This is an illusion, this is an illusion!” But the clarity was powerless against the mounting fire of desire. Her hands wandered over her body, and shameful moans escaped her lips.

If anxiety were likened to ants on a hot pan, then Liu Yunfei was surely a grasshopper in a vat of boiling oil. The terror of impending tragedy seared his heart, and a thousand rescue strategies flashed through his mind, only to be swiftly dismissed. What should he do? Where was she? The first and foremost problem was to find her.

Hardy, ever cunning, must have left some clue at her residence. Clinging to a sliver of hope, he dialed Park Min-hee’s phone, only to find it switched off. Liu Yunfei dashed out to the balcony, crossed the boundary between day and night in a flash, and arrived at Park Min-hee’s apartment at New York University. No one was there. It was midnight in New York; Park Min-hee would not be elsewhere at this hour. The room was free of any suspicious signs; she had not been abducted from here. Unable to see the surveillance footage, he felt uneasy, yet watching it only deepened his anxiety.

Report to the police? Useless. He had no legitimate status in America; the police would arrest him first. How would he search? He had no friends in New York—a stranger in a strange land. His only option was to call Old Prince and see if he had any connections.

The call connected quickly. After hearing the situation, Old Prince suggested he contact Belgrade, who was in New York and worked with the CIA; finding a person should be no problem. But as Liu Yunfei was about to hang up, Old Prince stopped him, warning him only to seek Belgrade’s help if absolutely necessary.

Liu Yunfei understood Old Prince’s meaning well. Belgrade was no pushover; owing him a favor was far more dreadful than owing a loan-shark. But right now, Liu Yunfei had no choice. He would do anything to save Park Min-hee.

At that moment, Belgrade was reclining on the spacious, soft bed in the CIA’s New York branch VIP lounge. Beside him, a beautiful female secretary slept deeply. His trip to New York was merely a pretext; he was escaping his wife and honeymooning with his new lover. As his phone rang with irritating music, Belgrade cursed the caller for not checking the time. “Even the President should let his subordinates get a good night’s sleep,” he muttered. But when he heard Liu Yunfei’s voice, he rejoiced inwardly, thinking, “Praise be to the Almighty—I can get closer to this wealthy man.”

Learning that Liu Yunfei needed help, his heart brimmed with delight, but he restrained himself, adopting a solemn tone to express sympathy and outrage. “Respected Prince Awashid, your friends are the friends of the American people. We will do everything in our power to help you and your companion. Please trust our capabilities. Where are you? We’ll send a car for you.”

“I’m at the entrance of New York University, but waiting for you is too slow. Give me the address—I’ll come to you,” Liu Yunfei said, anxiety clear in his voice.

“Apologies, our protocol forbids revealing the location. Even upon arrival, you must wear a blindfold—please forgive us; this includes myself. Please proceed to the intersection of Fifth Avenue; someone will pick you up.”

With no alternative, Liu Yunfei went to Fifth Avenue. Although Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue was bustling and the banks on both sides were brightly lit, at midnight, traffic was sparse. He needn’t worry about delays. In about five minutes, a black sedan arrived and two men, not looking like thugs, stepped out. “Are you Mr. Awashid? Please come with us.”

Liu Yunfei glanced at the two bespectacled, scholarly young men who showed their credentials. “What took you so long? Let’s go,” he said, feeling the five minutes had stretched into eternity, and quickly got into the car.

The two men thought, “Slow? Even the fire department couldn’t be quicker!” They sat on either side of Liu Yunfei, produced a black blindfold, and placed it over his eyes. Liu Yunfei wanted to do it himself, but they insisted it was procedure. They then stuffed specialized earplugs into his ears to prevent any knowledge of the CIA’s location. Although the CIA’s address was publicly known, no one believed its most secret department would be exposed to the public. Typically, after blocking sight and hearing, and with the driver intentionally taking several unnecessary detours, it would be impossible to know the destination. However, Liu Yunfei was intimately familiar with the Fifth Avenue area, having strolled it countless times with Park Min-hee. With his memory and keen sensitivity to subtle changes in wind direction, he knew the car had stopped in a subterranean parking lot near Broadway—a hidden gem amidst the city bustle. No one would guess that the CIA’s most secret New York unit was beneath an unremarkable underground parking lot in Manhattan, absurdly close—just a few hundred meters—from the site of the 9/11 tragedy at the World Trade Center.

After getting out, the blindfold and earplugs remained. Liu Yunfei deliberately stumbled behind the two bespectacled men, entered an elevator, descended, walked some distance, and finally sat in a chair.

When the blindfold was removed, Belgrade’s annoyingly smug smile greeted him. Liu Yunfei had no time to discuss the driver’s skills or the New York moonlight; his first action was to check his phone for the time. Another five minutes had slipped by—damn, why did time fly so fast?

Belgrade seemed to understand his mood, skipping introductions to the row of experts standing behind him. He led Liu Yunfei to the central table, pulled over a keyboard, and said, “You mentioned a website—please open it.” Liu Yunfei hesitated, glancing at the group of men and women of all ages behind him. “They are our CIA specialists, the best in every field. Please rest assured.”

“Oh.” Liu Yunfei thought ruefully that his wife might soon be putting on a show for their eyes, but he truly had no other option. He opened the website and finally saw Park Min-hee again. She was now completely naked, her face flushed, eyes closed, lost in utter madness, sprawled on the long table, performing shameless acts, her hands kneading her waist and hips, writhing like a snake, sometimes flipping over to rub her body against the table. Liu Yunfei felt a sliver of relief—the Sun Temple cult members had not yet targeted her.

Yet seeing Park Min-hee like this, Liu Yunfei was frantic, glancing at Belgrade and the experts as if he were a family member of a critical patient awaiting the doctor’s verdict. If necessary, he would kneel to them.

Of course, Belgrade and the experts did not demand such a gesture, nor did they speak to him. Instead, after a brief discussion, they dispersed and busied themselves. Belgrade then looked up and asked, “That girl, Park Min-hee—do you have her phone number, vehicle plate number, ID number, Social Security number, credit card number?”

Liu Yunfei provided all he knew. Belgrade handed the notes to a young man beside him, patted Liu Yunfei’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother. Have a cup of coffee—information will come soon. I’ve mobilized all CIA experts in New York, nearly as intense as the 9/11 operation.”

Belgrade subtly hinted at his own merit. Liu Yunfei understood and responded promptly, “Thank you—you are forever a friend of the Arab people. The Arab people are grateful to you and are willing to do anything for you.” His words were cunning, emphasizing “Arab people” rather than himself—he was, after all, Chinese.

Belgrade, thinking himself clever, had no idea Liu Yunfei was playing him for a fool, believing instead that Liu Yunfei was expressing genuine loyalty. He couldn’t help but smile, already calculating whether to establish a new department for Liu Yunfei and what the budget might be.

The fastest information soon arrived. The young man brought over a thick dossier and said, “Park Min-hee—here is all her personal information. She came to America in XX year, enrolled at New York University in XX year, has no criminal record, is currently alone in America. Her mother is deceased, her father is the CEO of the renowned Park Group in Gyeonggi Province, Korea, but all major decisions are made by the family’s thirteenth-generation patriarch, her grandfather. Park Min-hee also has a biological younger sister…”