Scene: Dimly lit smoky bar, empty except for one man facing away. He's got a bottle and a shot glass. Two suits walk in and stand behind him.
"The government needs your help, Mr. Trawler." The taller of the two men spoke crisply.
Trawler continued to stare at his glass.
"It's President Dixon. Your father."
"My father? When has he been my father? I've made it so far without his money, and without his name. And I prefer to keep it that way. Leave me alone."
"He's been kidnapped."
"So send some of your 'Secret Service' goons to go get him."
"It isn't that simple, Mr. Trawler."
Trawler spun around. Scars marred his face, one cutting across his nose and another dragging under his eye.
"Well, then, simplify it, and get outta my face!" The hatred flashed in Trawler's eyes as he barked at the men.
"Jim," the shorter, older man whispered. "The kidnapper is your half-brother."
Jim turned back to his glass, and drained it in one swift motion.
"Alright." He muttered. "But we do things my way."
The door crashed open with a loud bang, revealing a shapely silhouette.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, brother."
Jim groaned. "You brought her here?"
"Jim, the president's daughter has every right to be here as you do." The older man stated matter-of-factly.
"Time to find a new bar."
One father. Three siblings. 2 hours of jaw-dropping heart-stopping action!
Coming straight to DVD near no one