CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEA voice of searing-white anger cracked through the commotion like a gunshot.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Release these people now!”
Open-mouthed, the men dropped Aaron Klein. My own captor’s hold grew slack as they all turned to stare at the newcomer. That one man should stay to speak so to these brutes was wonderful enough, but it was the voice itself which paralysed me. Unaccustomedly harsh as it was, it undoubtedly belonged to Lajos Lázár.
Through my myopic haze, I saw him stride the length of the shop towards me.
“I said, release her!”
The burly man obeyed, pushing me aside, but only to square up sneeringly to Lajos who was, after all, the smaller and lighter man.
“Why should I?” he jeered.
For answer, Lajos swung back his arm with extraordinary
