"I think you should be lying in a hospital bed right now, resting up," Harry said, looking at the wounded Dean with concern. He was trying to persuade him not to push himself so hard.
His salary is only a few thousand dollars a month. Why risk his life for that!
Harry was afraid of dying. He also didn't want Dean, who had nearly been blown to pieces, to continue risking his life on this case.
"Do you dare to bet those crazies won't make another move against us or our families?"
Dean looked up, gave a cold laugh, and clenched his fist. "Harry, remember, our lives must be in our own hands. We have to rely on ourselves!"
Damn FBI! Dean was certain that if those high-IQ psychos demonstrated their value, the FBI wouldn't hesitate to recruit them. He would never allow that to happen!
Watching the murderous Dean, Harry licked his lips and hesitated. "But we don't even know how many of them there are, or where they're hiding."
"Someone knows!"
