The drive from Las Vegas to Los Angeles was 270 miles, and it always made Nicole a little bit nervous. It was at least four hours of driving with the least risk-averse group of travelers ever to be on a public highway. The fact that most of them had just had a lesson in the folly of optimism only made them impatient, and a few of them mean.
“ … ready. Just take a minute and help me understand the plan.” “There is no plan,” Ed said. “He’s there, he’s alone right now, and that means right now is when we have to do it. No choice.” … He was betting on getting through this on sheer audacity.
“ … whoever he was working for just happened to know some Russians. Or if these guys were members of a gang.” “Well they weren’t a bunch of wedding planners.”
“Do you think we should tell Miguel Fuentes what we found?” “We don’t know if we found anything, or just helped the guy clean his house.”