TWENTY-SIX
Alexandros sat in the passenger’s seat in the front of the rented Cadillac as they entered West Linn city limits. He looked at the driver, the muscular man with short, brown hair, and said, “Stefan, you and Tomas give Braddock a taste of what we can do, and then tie him up. I want to make sure he is conscious, so he can see what might happen to his wife. He will then very quickly tell us what we need to know.” It was spoken with the joy of someone planning an exciting business strategy. Heads nodded and then the car went quiet because further answers weren’t required; these were instructions to be followed, and there was no room for discussion, or for anything other than compliance. Alexandros was getting agitated. He couldn’t get there fast enough. Adam Mason had become his Ac
