"Hahahaha..." The laughter of Franklin Clegg followed. "I warned him that you would be tough to handle, yet he still let you slip through the cracks. These people, with their power so mismatched, how can they be so careless? No wonder they are nothing more than lapdogs in the eyes of others."
"He was one of your subordinates." Hank Clegg got up, and conveniently unloaded the bullets from the subordinate's gun.
He never saw his subordinates as lapdogs. Whether it was Logan Franklin or any other officer, they were his partners, his companions.
The cabin of the plane was quite spacious. Directly in front of him was a large sofa, its back turned towards him.
The voice of Franklin Clegg could be heard from that sofa.
This small plane wasn't large, generally used for short trips and small-scale cargo transport. If used to carry passengers, a single row could accommodate about four people.
"Where is Victoria Talkington?" Hank Clegg asked.
This was the only question that bothered him.
