Ammar
Ammar prodded me in the back again as we stepped out onto the street. Men in hazard suits spotted us and started running over.
"Do you even like the Lakers?" I said.
"Very much," Ammar said.
"So I guess you save terrorism and murdering of Americans for the off-season?"
"Who said I murder Americans?" Ammar said. "What I like is money. That practically makes me an American."
"We'll find you, Ammar," I said.
"You already did," he said. "Well done, by the way."
And then we were surrounded, and a bag that smelled like vomit and diesel went over my head.
- Chapter One Complete...
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