This wasn’t right. What the hell was that doing here? “You seeing what I’m seeing, Vik?” Vik lowered the night-goggle binoculars and glanced at Rolf Gunderson. He had hoped tonight would be one of the last times he’d have to put up with this vicious Neanderthal, but it looked as if that wasn’t happening. This was so not going according to plan. “I see it. It looks kind of small, though.” Lying through his teeth in the calmest voice imaginable was one of Vik’s special skills. One of the many that had led Interpol to recruit him as an agent so many years ago. “Small? Are you fucking kidding me? It’s a hundred feet at least. State of the art. It’s perfect.” Vik shrugged. “If you say so. It’s probably easier to take than The Victory anyway. So if you don’t think we’re up to that one, this might be a good second choice.” Reverse psychology often worked on the stupider of the criminal element. On the stupidest, not so much, unfortunately. “Yeah. Fuck The Victory.
What do You think about UndercoverSurrender (2012)?
