By Robert Barr Smith
Whereas the plain suicide of Hitler's niece in 1931 can have long past unquestioned in its time, sleek American brokers needs to race to discover the truth behind her dying ahead of the KGB and a well-financed neo-Nazi team interfere. As the demise toll rises and time runs out, this compelling story comes to an exciting end as these looking for solutions needs to struggle to maintain the reality from being hidden eternally.
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And met the squat bodyguard face to face. The man froze, his mouth full of sandwich, his eyes huge with surprise. And then, as the guard’s right hand groped for the heavy revolver under his left armpit, Berwick struck sidearm with the kukri, swinging the half-moon blade horizontally across his body, left to right, the heavy curved blade biting deep into the right side of the man’s neck with the sound of a butcher cutting steaks. The bodyguard’s hands stiffened, and the sandwich shot out of his mouth like a cork from a child’s popgun, followed by a rush 49 ROBERT BARR SMITH of crimson blood.
Sar’nt-major. ” He paused, and Barnes thought the young man was going to cry. ” “The captain’s wife, Mr. Barnes. She’s dead. And his little boy. Remember, he showed the pictures the other night? In a bloody airplane, Mr. Barnes. Crashed in the ocean in America. I mean near it. ” He took a step toward Barnes, and held out one hand imploringly. “Please, sar’nt-major, don’t make me tell the captain. ” Barnes nodded. “I won’t, lad. That’s for me to do. And that’s damned fine officer. Just remember.
The ape is only a hired gun. Not bedfellows, either, chances are. Professional goon. Probably bored with no action. I’ ll bet he’s working as a well-paid errand boy. Maybe he’s getting careless. He looks Middle Eastern. There’s supposed to be another one. I wonder where he is? He finished his wine. Next morning dawned fair and bright. ” In the afternoon he strolled on along the lake, sucking in great lungfuls of the Alpine air, still chilly in this early spring, watching the circling, shrieking gulls.
Blood Eagle by Robert Barr Smith