Wen Xu walked through a wind so cold that it made his cheeks turn black and blister. The wind howled and whistled. His legs felt like cold honey. After fourteen days of walking alone through the Antarctic tundra, he removed his heavy backpack and pulled out the crimson red flag from his pack, and planted it directly on geographic south pole. The sun was bright in the sky, even with his goggles. Wen had done it: the first Chinese solo explorer to the South pole. Suddenly, his satellite phone vibrated in his pocket. The number said, “Unknown.”
“Hello?”
“Hello Wen Xu. I have your wife and unless you do exactly as I say, I’ll kill her.” It was hard to hear with the wind screaming around him, but Wen could tell the man’s voice was raspy, and he was breathing through his mouth like it was almost sexual.
“Zhong Kui? Is that you? I thought I killed you in Bangkok.”
“Nearly, old friend, nearly. But now it’s my turn.”
“Okay, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt her. What do you want?”
“You don’t get to ask questions here. I’ve been tracking your location for the past four days, and now I’m exactly four kilometers north of you. You have 45 minutes to get to me. No weapons. Don’t be late.”
“Wait, wait, wait! I’m in an ambig—hello? Hello?” The call disconnected.
Wen Xu looked all around him, looking about the entire 360 degrees around where he was standing. “Shit,” he said to himself. He checked his double-barreled shotgun was loaded, picked one direction north and began running.