In the garage.
Inside a Mazda convertible, a black man with dirty braids was tied up in the car seat, his mouth sealed with tape.
Luke put on a pair of white gloves, "I know you're awake, stop pretending to be asleep."
The man with dirty braids did not react.
Luke pressed his left hand over the man's mouth and swung his right fist into his abdomen.
"Ugh…" the man with dirty braids moaned in pain, his eyes wide as saucers.
Luke sighed, "I really dislike doing this.
I'm going to take the tape off your mouth, don't scream or shout. Let's have a calm and peaceful chat, it's better for both of us.
OK?"
The man with dirty braids, sweating from pain, nodded slightly.
"Good boy." Luke removed his left hand and peeled the tape from the man's mouth. Gasping for air, the man asked, "What do you really want?"
"That's what I should be asking you," Luke pointed at the Mazda convertible, "Is this a Porsche 911?
