Volkov looked at Jason. He looked at the table. A wicked idea sparked in his terrified eyes.
Jason smirked. "My turn."
Click.
Inside, the air smelled of rust, stale vodka, and the metallic tang of fear. The room was circular, stripped bare except for a singular, grime-encrusted table in the center. Around it sat men in expensive suits that looked out of place against the peeling concrete walls. These were oligarchs, warlords, and high-rollers. They weren't here for poker. 13 movie statham
"I'm in a rush," Jason said. "My car is double-parked." Volkov looked at Jason