Who are those people?" I asked, shaking, still looking at the two men standing before the Range Rover. "Aren't they your friends?"
At other times, Frank could have burst into laughter upon listening to me say that. He was sterner now, the expression unchangeable, the jaw tightly compressed. If the naivety of my question amused him at all, there was no show of it.
Luke just swore under his breath, Ruth, "Frank said sharp. That would fill in the blanks if you're a little slow. No, they are not friends and, as a matter of fact, we don't even know them, let alone where they're from.".
Luke's eyes were glued to the dashboard screen, fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to work out how the two trucks had known exactly where to ambush us. Had they tracked us? Or had they lain in wait at the hotel, tailing us through the labyrinthine streets of Hong Kong?
