The man who sold him the car was right, the air conditioner didn't work and even with the fan speed set to high, Kaplan could feel beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Moisture under his arms formed dark circles on his shirt. Rolling down the window didn't help much either, as the August morning air was already hot and humid. It was only a two-hour drive to Nashville, but in this heat, it would be a brutal two hours. Morning clouds already showed roiling signs of vertical development, a forewarning of another thunderstorm-riddled day in the humid South. Tony had been asleep, or pretended to be, since ten minutes outside of Paducah. He claimed to be almost seventy, but he moved like a much younger man. Kaplan wasn't sure how much he could trust this stranger he was trying to protect and regretted getting involved. But, he gave his word to the dying WitSec deputy, a former Delta Force soldier just like himself. And he wasn't one to go back on his word.
