There, sprawled on the bed, was Kane. He had spread-eagled, and his widened eyes were transfixed on that white-knuckled fist above his head.
‘Kane, what the Hell are you doing here?’ Steel asked suspiciously, his fist still ready to strike.
‘I followed you from your hotel.’ Kane paused. A look of fear crossed his face. ‘Samara…she’s…she’s disappeared,’ Kane’s eyes were fixed on Steel’s bruised knuckles.
‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Someone took us both this morning from here. I came to…extract some information from an old friend.’ Steel said, backing off, rubbing his fist.
‘Who? The American whose house we’re in? I passed him on the way. I think he’s heading north,’ Kane said, confused.
‘North, what’s in the North?’ Steel asked, almost shaking the life out of the frightened tour guide.
‘
