MY BOSSES
When the Snow Comes

The video of Thelio's torture of George Lonen was circulated through the media. Just uploaded at two o'clock in the morning, now the video has been watched nearly five hundred million from all the world's population. Morning, at seven.

George Lonen's whole body was in a mess, bruised with cuts everywhere. Thelio who always looks dashing with a cruel dominant aura, in the video looks like a crazy person. Many comments from many people, who say what conspiracy is being done by the high-class criminals? Why does the world's security agency close its eyes? Is the law really that bad?.

Breaking the heads of all corruption officials. The case of Thelio soared, and the evidence was so clear. The date, time and year of the video are also listed. Many detectives tried to examine the truth of the video.

Swedish content creators who are famous for their expertise in detecting edit videos or not speak up.

"That's the original video. The source is from CCTV footage. Let's keep an eye on this case. What this man did was inhumane" he said at the end of the video explaining that the video was indeed genuine. The source is also clear, from CCTV footage. Ask all social media residents to monitor the case to the legal path.

Abama nodded, listening to the work of Glen Johnson.

"I got an invitation to appear on a television show, sir."

"Accept. Talk everything over there. Record and upload across social media." Abama's orders, and don't forget her thin, hot smile.

"And so is Mister. The files, the evidence and the money I've deposited with the international intelligence agency." Glen Report.

"Your work is pretty fast. Arrange convincing words for a television show later tonight."

"Sial Sir. I'm retreating." Glen went and left Abama's office.

The man came back agile, moving his hands on the keyboard. Typing, perusing all proposals submission cooperation from many companies of the world. The message also appeared via email, from the company Selovelia.

"He wanted to frame me, or he was really stupid." Abama Mumbles. Read the submitted proposal.

It is listed on behalf of the owner of the company Senor Thelio Selivia Albora.

Tuk.

The door was knocked and Erick appeared with the files in his hand.

"Mr Abama, there are some documents that require your signature."

"Sit down first. There's something surprising."

"What's up, sir?" Erick asked, already very dizzy. Do two jobs at a time.

"Read." Abama said, turning her laptop towards Erick.

"Wow!" Glared at Erick's face with a look of admiration.

"It's a trap." Change the quick facial expression.

"Traps like this are very profitable, right? Come in, play and kill." Horrifically.

"But sir, it's too risky for FeYier's company. Because Selovelia is not a company. There are many illegal transactions. The ones in FeYier Group are afraid will be summarized."

"There's a point."

Resuscitate his back, "have you met Mr Erial?"

"Sorry Mister. Mr. Erial himself will only speak directly if there is you. He said this matter is unethical if it should be subordinates like me who plead."

"He knows?"

"About you and Gorge Lonen?"

Abama nodded. "I know less. But know Mr. Erial. It seems like it is, sir." Answer Erick.

"You just focus on the company. Let me and Glen focus on George Lonen."

"Good Sir. I'm retreating."

****

The red curtain opens, featuring a Glen Johnson. Not a native of Indonesia, but a Filipino. Right the guy from next door. His arrival that appeared suddenly after several years finished thoroughly investigating the legendary case from China, namely Xing Ru. Now comes the case of luxury yacht S4P7, owned by the Lonen family.

His arrival with that news alone had made many heads think back. The Lonen family is also quite reputable, can add to the income of the country. Surely if George Lonen was still alive, it was likely that Lonen would shine again. Not only is it beneficial for the Lonen family, but also the country. George Lonen can also be said to be a political figure, with amazing ideas. There are many domestic relations between Lonen. Which again benefits the country.

"Good night, Mr. Glen Johnson." A host also gave a greeting.

"Night." Answer Glen soberly. Start sitting quietly, facing the camera.

"Before we have a long conversation with Mr. Glen Johnson, let us take a look at the following video."

He had two children, from his wife who did not know his name. That's George Lonen, hiding his whole family from the media. No one knows who George's son is, who his wife is. All they need to know is one, Lonen gives a lot of his services in the wider community.

The video stopped during news of the sinking of the S4P7 cruise ship. Many mourned the death of George Lonen. Slowly, the Lonen name sank deep on the ocean floor. Those who adore the same also drowned at the bottom.

That's human. Very clever to end. Once drowned. It will also drown. It is certain to rely on God. Want you poor, rich, sick, take notes, stupid, but stay by your side. Protecting you, and good still promises penitentiary and solar doors. O Mother Mary, Father in heaven. Thanks though.

"We all know who they are. Their services are so extraordinary. Helping without being rewarded. I don't like fame. It was George Lonen. A successful entrepreneur, who must experience a tragic event."

"Is he still alive? Is the two-minute video really George Lonen? Therefore, follow Memories to find out the answer." Smiling host towards camera.

Start sitting sideways and looking at each other with Glen Johnson.

****

Had he not needed strong support to protect himself, Abama would not have met Erial. The man is difficult to meet, for the same reason. Gathering with his family. That love was indeed an Erial to his wife, Elemery. But thankfully, Abama can make a promise with Erial.

Like tonight, it's exactly midnight in an empty, uninhabited warehouse. Plenty of dust, with spider webs dotting the entire walls and roof. I don't know what was once the warehouse, which must have smelled very stuffy. Mixed with night animal shit.

Dashing with boots, a black robe perched on his shoulder. Using a black mask to protect a part of his face, Abama went inside. Erial Agriel Putra Exanta. A mysterious person, and difficult to guess his mind. Looks like a stupid love slave, but it's not.

A puff of smoke from the central room of the warehouse, inviting Abama's attention to approach. He approached, and rightly so, Mr. Erial was sitting leisurely enjoying the night view with the wandering rats, the sound of interlocked insects. He also got a lion's head stick— borrowed from old Bangka Nandhaya.

"Mr Erial." Sapa Abama, come sit on the available chair.

Erial turned his head, with a sweet face there was no sin at all.

"Sit. Have coffee, with me." Take it, and sip the black coffee that has been available.

"Thank you, sir." As a form of respect, Abama sat down. Look at each other. Then look at the night mood in the empty warehouse.

"Mr Abama Patrio Walch."

"True Mr. Erial Agriel Putra Exanta" Abama replied.

"I don't actually like to interfere with someone's problems." Early Erial said, smoking his cigarette deeper. And exhale it strongly, until it comes out of the nostrils.

"My side is certainly not wrong, sir. Thelio tortured people so cruelly. Have you no pity on Mr George Lonen? He used to be your business partner." Abama.

"I have no problem saving George Lonen. He deserves to be saved."

"Want to?" Abama raised the height of one of her right eyebrows.

"Only am I reluctant to cooperate with an unfaithful man." Erial smiled faintly, looking at Abama.

"Together with holy love alone he dared to play. Especially with a dirty man?"

"Among the night sky in the darkness. The Lord's blessing is always with the wind. In the chest, until the middle forehead, I always called God. I cannot help a man who is worthless. While I always glorified a pure, holy love." Clearly Erial, back to remembering her sweet Mery face. Their journey is too long to the point now.

"I don't think it has anything to do with it. That's my business isn't it, Mr Erial?" Ask Abama.

"Whatever you are, I still understand compensation. How much do you want?"

"I don't need the money."

"Do you agree to work with me to save George Lonen or not? I need a definite answer."

Erial chuckled. Patting Abama's shoulder was strong. "For the sake of the father in heaven. Go home in his lap, man."

"I agree to cooperate with you. But, I can only give you encouragement and protection in the back. The rest is your business. It's enough to repay the services of George who has worked with Exanta Group." Finish your coffee and stand up. Abama sat alone in that empty warehouse.

Striking hard at the iron table in front of him, Erial said as soon as he slapped him. Reminds me a lot about things I forgot. Goddamnit!.

His phone rang, a call from Yasie.

"Tonight I'm home. Wait, and prepare yourself." Then he shut it off.

Abama smiled wryly, resting her hair towards the back.

"Love?" His monologue.

"The dumping ground for sperm." Further.

SERIATE....