By David Baldacci
The global can switch without end in a single...
Michelle Maxwell has simply wrecked her promising occupation on the mystery carrier. opposed to her instincts, she enable a presidential candidate out of her sight for the briefest second, and the guy whose safeguard used to be her accountability vanished into skinny air. Sean King understands how the more youthful agent feels. 8 years past, the hard-charging mystery carrier agent allowed his consciousness to be diverted for a cut up moment. And the candidate he was once keeping was once gunned down prior to his eyes. Now Michelle and Sean are approximately to work out their destinies converge.
Drawn right into a maze of lies, secrets and techniques, and lethal coincidences, the 2 discredited brokers discover a stunning fact: that the separate acts of violence that shattered their lives have been quite decades within the making-and are some distance from over...
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Additional resources for Split Second (King & Maxwell, Book 1)
He missed a meeting with me this morning and did not answer his page. ” Langdon felt a sudden chill realizing that he was about to see a dead body. His stomach had never been particularly stalwart. It was a weakness he’d discovered as an art student when the teacher informed the class that Leonardo da Vinci had gained his expertise in the human form by exhuming corpses and dissecting their musculature. Kohler led the way to the far end of the hallway. There was a single door. “The Penthouse, as you would say,” Kohler announced, dabbing a bead of perspiration from his forehead.
Although his people did not celebrate Christmas, he imagined that this is what it must feel like to be a Christian child, sitting before a stack of Christmas presents, about to discover the miracles inside. He opened the album and examined the photos. A lifetime of sexual fantasies stared back at him. Marisa. An Italian goddess. Fiery. A young Sophia Loren. Sachiko. A Japanese geisha. Lithe. No doubt skilled. Kanara. A stunning black vision. Muscular. Exotic. He examined the entire album twice and made his choice.
6 Sixty-four minutes had passed when an incredulous and slightly air-sick Robert Langdon stepped down the gangplank onto the sun-drenched runway. A crisp breeze rustled the lapels of his tweed jacket. The open space felt wonderful. He squinted out at the lush green valley rising to snowcapped peaks all around them. I’m dreaming, he told himself. Any minute now I’ll be waking up. “Welcome to Switzerland,” the pilot said, yelling over the roar of the X-33’s misted-fuel HEDM engines winding down behind them.