You, he began. You bastards. Silence. Where was the FBI these past four days? This was your fault—your fault! His voice, starting out in a whisper, crescendoed by the end into a roar, spittle flecking his lips.
Douglas Preston
You, he began. You bastards. Silence. Where was the FBI these past four days? This was your fault—your fault! His voice, starting out in a whisper, crescendoed by the end into a roar, spittle flecking his lips.