On the screaming drive to the Côte d’Azur airport, Darrell found himself pounding things—his car seat, the side panels, the ceiling over his head, his legs, Wade. “Cut it out,” Wade snapped. “I can punch myself if I want to. And no, I don’t want to.” “We have to up our game.” “We know, Darrell, we know,” Lily groaned. “No sports metaphors.” They had emerged from near-death chaos with nothing, thought Darrell. Nothing! They were empty-handed. They should have done better. “We need to go on the offensive,” he continued. “Which is maybe a sports thing, but it’s also a military thing, which is what we need to be now. Soldiers.” “You will be,” said Julian. Sara parked in a short-term lot and they made their way into the noisy terminal together. “Listen,” he went on, “according to my dad, Ugo Drangheta is a ruthless character. A businessman, but as arrogant as he is wealthy. His place in Morocco is his closest villa, and I’m willing to bet that’s where he’s flying right now.
What do You think about The Golden Vendetta (2015)?
