42
“You want me to what?”
General Firat had escorted him, without Onur, to an empty conference room inside Siberkume. Metin hadn’t even known this underground level existed. By the way the armed guards inspected him, he wondered if they’d let him leave without the general at his side. He’d just be dogshit on their bootheels.
For the length of two normal heartbeats, about ten at the moment, General Firat looked as if he might agree that it was a crazy test of his system.
Then Firat’s military officiousness snapped into place.
“This aircraft,” he placed a file folder on the table and opened it, but Metin couldn’t manage to look down.
Firat thumped a finger on the folder’s contents.
Metin did look down but couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.
“In two hours it will fly into this
