6
If the library had been a disaster before, it was ten times worse after our pointless search for any information on the oshk.
In theory, I was now recording all the serial numbers of the cash so Orwell, the Brotherhood intel department so nicknamed by Kane, could track its source. In practice, I was keeping a wary eye on Rohan and his string of Hindi-English cursing that had risen from a mutter to a couple of stages away from a roar.
I ruffled the bills. “Did you know that there are one hundred hundred dollar bills in each bundle?”
No response.
“I’ve got a cool half a mill here.” I shook the backpack. “I’m thinking a quick Google search on countries with no extradition treaty, book a flight, and we’re living large on a beach with umbrella drinks by happy hour tomorrow.”
Holding thi
