The Mercedes screeched to a halt, gravel crunching under its tires in the dead of the Zurich night.
The blindfolds were yanked off Darren and Rachel's faces, the coarse fabric leaving their skin raw. Darren turned to his right and saw Ileana sitting beside them, her green eyes glinting, a soft expression on her face.
The Triad gunmen, shoved them out onto the cold pavement. Darren's boots hit the ground first, but he found his posture quickly. Rachel stumbled slightly, but Darren helped her stand, though she didn't thank him.
She just turned the other way.
Darren frowned. He deserved that.
The walked towards their car waiting ahead, parked under a flickering streetlamp.
The Triad's hunky driver, a broad-shouldered man with a buzzcut and a lotus tattoo on his forearm, leaned against the Mercedes, his eyes cold as he watched them go.
