Chapter Three
THE RUSHING AIR GREW colder as the bike sped onward to a destination only its driver knew. Sophie shivered uncontrollably despite the heavy leather jacket around her. She no longer cared where they were going, only that they would arrive soon and end this nightmarish ride through hell.
The ungodly roar of the bike’s engine had become a monotonous drone to her ears after listening to it for so many hours. Its rhythm had beaten all thought of her normal, predictable life out of her head. Sophie Brant the diplomat was a vision, a ghost, slipping farther and farther into the distance with each passing kilometer.
The engine shifted gears, and Sophie felt dimly aware of the bike climbing uphill. Their speed decreased as the vehicle took several winding turns and then mercifully
