Vladimir Gogol picked up the dart and threw it toward Marek. It slammed into a dart board that hung on the back of Marek’s office door, just missing Marek Malinowski’s head. Marek gasped and tried to retain control of his bladder. He was sweating like a pig. His office was small and cramped at the best of times, but it seemed decidedly claustrophobic with Vladimir in the room. He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve.
Marek was a stumpy man with bushy eyebrows and receding spikey hair, and was a sharp contrast to Vladimir, who was tall, tanned and elegant in his Mark Powell double breasted suit. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
The Russian had always intimidated Marek but today was even worse than usual.
‘It was you who let Case escape and it most certainly is you who
