We were on a long journey. As we made our way down the road to Gandolfo, we happened upon a party of bandits. Jackie stopped the jeep. We slowly stepped out.
Before we could utter a word, a bullet whizzed through the desert air, and Jackie dropped to the ground in a heap. He was dead.
"Wait! Stop! Don't shoot!" I shouted, trying hopelessly not to panic.
"We won't shoot you," said a dark-skinned, dark-haired, dark eyed man, stepping forward. "You're much too valuable to us alive."
"Me? I asked feebly.
"Oh yes. Don't pretend with me," he smirked. "You're the only one who knows where the jewel is kept."
"You must be mistaken," I said.
"Mistaken?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then maybe you should join your friend."
I gulped. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I didn't know what I'd do. I didn't even know what jewel he was talking about.
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