CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Reid slid into the driver’s seat of the still-running car. Watson jumped in beside him.
“Was that them?!” Dr. Barnard practically shouted from the back seat. He had witnessed the two men assault the valet and steal the sports car.
“Yes,” Reid said breathlessly. “Buckle up.” He slammed the gas and the SUV lurched forward onto the city street, barely missing an oncoming car.
“Jesus, Kent!” Watson shouted from beside him. “How do you know that for sure?”
Reid swerved expertly in and out of traffic. The roads in this part of Athens were tight, two lanes wide and lined with storefronts and cafes. “They were speaking Arabic,” he said calmly. “They mentioned the Imam.”
“Imam can mean a lot of things,” Watson countered. He gripped the handle over his door with white knuckle
