Another lil Benley collection

Mistaken Identity

In the dimly lit warehouse, Miranda leaned against a rusted metal table, her piercing gaze fixed on the photograph of a sleek black sedan. "This is the target," Miranda declared, her voice low and commanding. "We need him for leverage. Make sure you grab him, no mistakes."

Her gang members, a motley crew of hardened criminals, nodded in silent agreement as they set out on their mission.

Her orders were clear, or so she thought. But fate had a twisted sense of humor that day.

Meanwhile, on the bustling city streets, Ben hurried along, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his own. Oblivious to the danger lurking in the shadows, he approached the parking lot where his friend's car was parked. With his own car undergoing repairs, he had borrowed his friend's vehicle for the day, unaware of the perilous coincidence that awaited him.

As Ben unlocked the car door and settled into the driver's seat, he was suddenly accosted by masked figures, their menacing silhouettes closing in on him with alarming speed. Before he could react, he found himself forcibly dragged from the car and thrown into the back of a van.

But as the van sped away into the night, the captive's protests turned to confusion. "Wait, what's going on? I'm not who you think I am!"

Ignoring his pleas, the gang pressed on until they reached their destination – the abandoned factory. As they shoved the bewildered man into Miranda's presence, she studied him with a furrowed brow. This wasn't the face she had expected to see.

Miranda paced the floor, her eyes piercing through the smoke-filled air as she surveyed her gang members.  Her members shuffled nervously before her, heads bowed, as they awaited her verdict.

"What is this?" Miranda's voice sliced through the tension like a razor. She held up a photograph of a sleek black car, her eyes blazing with fury. "I gave you a simple task: snatch the man who drives this car. Do you see him here?"

One of the gang members stammered out an explanation. "Boss, we followed the car just like you said, but when we grabbed the guy, turns out it ain't the right one. It's his friend, Ben Warren."

Miranda let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Well, congratulations," she snapped. "You've just kidnapped the wrong damn person."

Another one of the gang members reluctantly spoke up. "Sorry Boss " he muttered, avoiding Miranda's fiery gaze. "We thought we had the right guy. He was driving the car in the picture, just like you said."

"Thought?" Miranda's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You thought? That's not good enough, I don't pay you to think. I pay you to get the job done." she walked over to a nearby table, snatching up a gun with a swift, fluid motion. The metallic click as she cocked the weapon echoed in the silence, the metal cool against her palm as she aimed it at her trembling underlings.

Fear danced in their eyes as they recoiled from her fury, but Miranda wasn't finished yet. She knew she had to salvage the situation, and fast.

"Listen up," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "We need to fix this. Now. Find out who this guy is, why he was driving that car, and make sure he doesn't talk. If you fail me again..." Her threat hung heavy in the air, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

After a tense silence, Miranda's anger seemed to simmer down, replaced by a cold determination. She turned to face the man they had mistakenly brought before her, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sorry about the mix-up, sweetheart," Miranda said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "But unfortunately, you're here now, and I can't let you go."

Ben's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what? You can't just—"

Miranda held up a hand, cutting him off. "I said I'm sorry, but my hands are tied. You know too much now. Don't worry, though. We'll take good care of you."