I must have been dragged a good mile before I was dumped
into a surprisingly comfy seat, then tied up with unsurprisingly rough rope.
When the hood was yanked off me, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the
scene.
Nestor, I expected. The vodka, sure.
The nuclear warhead? Not so much.
Nestor smiled as he poured himself a large drink.
“Today we play, how you say, Russian Roulette!”
I stared at him.
“Where’s the revolver then?”
“My rules better! Tell me where she is, or I start cutting
wires!”
He managed to cut three wires safely.
No comments:
Post a Comment