CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Rais was furious.
He had him. He had Kent Steele on the business end of his Sig Sauer, and again he had managed to slip from his grasp.
Damn that fat Italian for barging in at the most inopportune moment.
Damn that Agent One—Agent Morris, as it turned out—for getting in the way.
It was no small relief that at least this time it hadn’t ended with Rais’s sternum open, but the mere fact that Agent Zero still drew breath caused him such fury that it manifested as a swirling tempest of a tension migraine, making it difficult for him to think straight.
If that insipid Agent Morris hadn’t gotten in the way… if the police hadn’t shown up… if that train hadn’t been there at that precise moment… if only.
Worst of all—worse than Steele getting away, worse than Amun losing t
