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BUDAPEST, HUNGARY
“Lynx and Okumura are en route to Vienna via freight train, with another twenty million and more incriminating information stolen from Croatian syndicates,” Yut Lung lazily sprawled over him like a large cat, his hair fanning out on Sing’s bare chest as he typed into his laptop on the side. “It's like your modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Kings of the underworld.”
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Sing scrutinised the photo on Yut Lung’s screen, his cigarette smoke blurring Okumura’s fearful expression, his mind replaying the way Lynx had cried out his name. “Remember Athens? In Tartarus we had a standoff. Half a second in, I realised Okumura still had the safety on.”
