THEY were heading to the precinct when the taxi they were riding made a turn in a small alleyway.
The former police officer knew that the end of the side street will point to the opposite direction of the precinct but has slower traffic than the main street.
“Lo siento, traffic. Use a shortcut.” The driver said.
Marion made a quick glance at Julio who was sitting on the passenger seat. Their eyes met.
“Sí.” The Mulatto man answered.
Midway, the taxi stopped. Out of nowhere, six men surround the cab.
When Marion glanced at the driver, he was sporting a smirk. He went out of the car.
“Never gets old. At least, the fight I used to know happened in a darkened street not in a broad daylight like this.” Julio muttered before he unlocked the door to his side.
“We need to know who orch
