Ahmet pulled the SUV to a jerky halt on the shoulder of the dirt road, a few miles out from the second warehouse. The engine idled with a low, mechanical growl that he felt vibrating through his clenched teeth. Every throb of his heart felt like a sledgehammer striking the exit wound in his chest.
"Ahmet, let's switch seats for goodness sake," Markus commanded, his voice tight with an uncharacteristic edge of panic. He leaned over, peering at his cousin's profile in the light of the dashboard. "You're gray. If you pass out behind the wheel, we're both dead."
"I don't fear death." Ahmet snapped.
"Neither do I but if it's from a stupid cause, I wouldn't want that. You are not too well. You have been unreasonable since you woke up. Let's switch seats. Dying wouldn't do me any good. It wouldn't do the Villa good either."
