"We found two of them, boss," the one behind the wheel says into the phone with an American accent. "Thin, about five feet. Looks like they've just escaped an asylum, though."
"Fantastic," a deep voice rumbles from the speakerphone.
The man beside me snorts, muttering, "Always liked them mad."
I scowl, directing saliva to his lungs. He hunches over and chokes. Someone reaches over to pound his back.
The man in front asks, "You good, Chuck?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Chuck says, shrugging off the helping hand roughly.
"Just trying to help, man."
"Keep your hands to yourself."
After what seems like an eternity, we wind into a... Mansion. Not what I was expecting. Maybe a shady warehouse or some kind of illicit, underground holding, yes, but not this soaring Mediterranean structure oozing wi
