Chasing Ivan: An Achilles Novella
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Europe's smartest criminal,
versus America's best spy.
And then there's poor emily,
stuck in between.
Rumor has it there's a Russian you can turn to if you're very rich, and need dirty deeds done without a trace. The CIA calls him Ivan the Ghost because he's operated for years without leaving a trail or revealing his face.
sure enough, after about ten seconds it was tight enough that he could remove his hand without it falling. “Now, as you might guess, red is the opposite of green. Would you care for the honor?” He proffered the phone, as the grapefruit began to pucker. Ever the gentleman, Aspinwall mimicked Michael’s fanfare as he pressed the red button. The wire cinched like a hangman’s noose, and the grapefruit burst open, sending sticky pink juice spraying in all directions. A second later, the puck
moving car. The scrapes on her back and buttocks were severe enough to require skin grafts and a month-long convalescent stay. But thanks to her leather riding clothes, those were just flesh wounds, as the professional soldiers say. “Doctor Danton took care of me when they brought me to the emergency room,” Emily said, her voice unexpectedly enthusiastic. Whatever mood-altering medication they’d given her, Jo wanted some. “We came to ask you about the man who saved me. Nobody seems to know who
dead. Inlaid on its gleaming surface, using the same lighter wood that formed grape leaves on the master desk, was a regulation chessboard. Korovin took the opposing chair and pulled a chess clock from his drawer. Setting it on the table, he pressed the button that set Grigori's timer in motion, and said, “Give me the three-minute version.” Grigori wasn’t a competitive chess player, but like any Russian who had risen through government ranks, he was familiar with the sport. Chess clocks have
the field, that is. The armchair warriors back in Langley only had to weather the occasional paper cut. “Ivan will have his people deep-six her purse, you know. Just like he did her phone. No way that was a coincidence. They’ll swap her old Coach bag for a fancy new one on the plane. Then we’ll lose audio and GPS.” “So you’ll just have to tag her again when you land. This time you can plan ahead for it, so you’re not stuck hiding when all the action goes down.” I wanted to point out the
because it would be a shame to have you looking anything but your very best … at the Monaco Yacht Show.” Chapter 8 I WAS ABOUT to get Oscar back on the line when a crotch-rocket roared in and screeched to a halt. It was a beautiful machine, a black Kawasaki Ninja with neon-green highlights. When the young driver removed her matching helmet and shook out her long brown hair, I saw that she was beautiful too. I could hear Oscar laughing all the way from Virginia. “Achilles, I presume.