FURY OF THE HEART
The dim light covered his face, but before he spoke I knew who it was.
The voice urged, sharp and consistent, a tone that broke no argument: "Drop the guns."
Dmitri's men stopped, their eyes darting between the new man and the gunman now on the ground. Dmitri's face contorted with hesitation, and for the smallest instant I could see the doubt flash across his eyes.
" Who the hell are you?" Dmitri snarled, his eyes narrowing as he moved to cover his men automatically.
The new man entered the room completely, and I could clearly see his face: dark hair, firm jaw, and eyes glistened with a terrible brightness. He was recognizable, but I couldn't pin him.
Bab Populer