He took me outside the hotel and we got into a Mercedes-benz. The driver drove along Las Vegas Boulevard, where brilliant lights flickered at night.
After about 20 minutes of driving, the bright neon lights of the city moved further and further away from us. On either side of the road is wilderness, and the car turned left into the Desolate Stone Road at a fork in the road.
I could hear the tires grinding against the gravel, and the car shook slightly to a halt. There was a black car already parked in front of it, with two burly men standing in front of it.
“Let's get off,” Daley said, looking ahead.
When we got out of the car, a man in a tight black t-shirt and Daley looked at each other. He turned and went to the trunk of the car, and soon I saw a man with a collar coming up to us.
The man's hands were tied behind his back, and the car lights shone on his face when he looked up. I saw that the man with scars on his face was Ron.
