Frank marched up to Jackie, his expression glacial. "Name, background, and your beef with Ryan Lancaster. Why'd you send Nechemya after him? Out with it!"
As a battle-hardened officer, Frank's words carried a weight that made ordinary speech seem flimsy in comparison.
The rapid-fire questions—capped by that barked command—startled Jackie so badly he dropped his crab claw.
His companions had already melted into the banquet hall's shadows after the earlier scene, hoping to grab some free food before slipping away unnoticed.
Only Jackie, hopelessly addicted to seafood, remained near the entrance—the sole intact buffet station after Nechemya's earlier rampage.
And now, disastrously, Nechemya had recognized him.
"I-I'm J-Jackie..." he stammered, palms sweating. "N-not from any important f
