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The man with the g*n at Tom’s head left the room. Tom glimpsed his defining features for the first time—a long red beard, red hair, and thick lashes. The other man was taller with black hair, strong through the shoulders, and large hands. They looked like failed boxers; probably bouncers who had upgraded through a series of small-time bashings, maybe a minor hit.
Whoever the devil was, he had them in t****l. Tom knew there was no way of escaping no matter the outcome. He hated himself for thinking in such stark terms of an outcome, but these men were not trifling wannabes like Vlad’s assistant. They must have known when they arrived, they would likely die. Their guns were authentic SIG-pros. Their forged documents, covers and acting skills were enough to fool even trained agents. They
