Book 34 of 52: "They Came to Baghdad" by Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie.  It's a name synonymous with mystery.

But this isn't really a mystery novel.

It's much more of an action-filled spy novel, with a mystery serving as a minor plot element.

And that's a very good thing, in my opinion.

[Retrieval] "Perfectly secure."

"Perfectly contained.  It's completely secure."

The man that some called Hatchet waited, drumming his fingers on the table.  His suit was crisp and freshly ironed, and his bland features wore a look of barely contained boredom.  His fit body aside, the man looked totally unremarkable.  No one would ever pick him out of a crowd.

"We've set up dozens of redundant protocols," the scientist across the table tried again.  "Forget Fort Knox.  This is definitely the most secure installation in the country."

"It's true," his colleague chimed in, looking as anxious as his fellow.  "The entry procedures include a half dozen different checkpoints.  Nothing comes in without our knowledge."

Hatchet waited another beat for the silence to build before he asked his question.  "And things going out?"

The two scientists exchanged a look.  "Out?" one of them repeated blankly.  "Nothing goes out."

Danni California, Part 27

Continued from Part 26, here.
Start the story here.

* * *

The metal grappling hook sailed out, trailing rope behind it as it flew away from the building.  I stared after it, feeling the rope flying out through my fingers and watching the little black dot zoom away.

It landed on the closest nearby building, and I heard a clink as it hit.  I waited a moment, feeling the rope drop to slackness, and then carefully gave the line in my hands a gentle tug.

For a heart-stopping second, it slid loosely, suggesting that the grappling hook had failed to catch on a target.  But then, just as I cursed and prepared myself to haul it in for another throw, I felt the line suddenly flex with tension.

Book 33 of 52: "Flash Boys: A Wall Street Revolt" by Michael Lewis

Back to non-fiction - and one of my favorite topics, finance!  I've heard a lot of critical acclaim for Flash Boys, which seeks to take on and explain the mystery and complexity behind high-frequency trading, or HFT.

What is HFT?  In short, it's the stock trading strategy of racing the market, finding out when a large order is going to be placed, snapping up all of those stocks before the large order can go through, and then selling them to that purchaser for a profit.

It's a bit like seeing a lot of customers at a lemonade stand on a hot day, cutting to the front of the line, buying ALL the lemonade, and then turning around and selling it to the customers for a higher price.

Seems wrong?  I agree!  As do many people in this book...

[Retrieval] Meeting the Fence

Normally, the man they called Broiler preferred to take his time.  He liked to listen to his victim's screams, savoring how they slowly realized that they wouldn't escape, that they'd die with him.  He'd only been a bruiser when they threw him behind bars, but he soon found his place on the inside - and he commanded far more respect here than he ever did out on the street.

Broiler liked to savor his jobs.  But today, he moved with uncharacteristic swiftness.

Freddy lay quietly in his bunk, but Broiler didn't doubt that the little ferret of a man had his ears peeled.  He was fresh meat, after all.  He surely expected to be roughed over.  For all Broiler knew, the man might be concealing a blade or shiv under that thin blanket.

Broiler, however, had the advantage of weight - and surprise.  Before Freddy could even speak out, the electrical cord in the big man's hands looped around his throat and drew tight.

Broiler leaned down on the body as it jerked and thrashed, sawing back and forth with his hands.  It didn't take long before the smaller man's movements ceased.

Still, the bigger bruiser flipped the corpse over, waiting for several minutes to ensure that no life remained.  He'd been given triple his usual rate for this job, and he wasn't going to let anything foul it up.  Only once he was completely certain that Freddy was dead did he stand up and leave the cell.

Danni California, Part 26

Continued from Part 25, here.
Start the story here.

* * *

Both Jenny and Old Hillpaw audibly gasped.  "What?" they both stammered out in unison, staring at the man in black.

Jasper couldn't help grinning at the stunned looks on his audience's faces.  "Wait," he said, glancing back down at the pages in front of him.

"It will make more sense soon."

Book 32 of 52: "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams

Yes, it's a series.  I'm counting it as one book.

If you haven't heard of this famous series by Douglas Adams, you're missing out on a massive trove of English comedy mixed with science fiction.  "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" is a series that spans five novels, a couple of short stories, and even has a movie about it!

He really, REALLY likes those shoes.

"Sir," Kate called out as she approached the gentleman, "can I help you with something?"

The man jerked upright, his limbs all appearing to flail wildly for just a moment before he regained control.  He straightened up as he turned around, and Kate realized that this man was well over six feet, most of his figure hidden by a bulky overcoat.  He towered over her short, squat little five-foot-nothing figure.

Still, Kate told herself, a customer is a customer, and a commission's a commission.  She plastered her patented "retail smile" across her face as she gazed up at the man.

Danni California, Part 25

Continued from Part 24, here.
Start the story here.

* * *

Inside the tower, the receptionist behind the counter was already rising to her feet.  The Organization didn't pay a full Priest to sit behind the front counter and take messages, but every employee went through basic training.  Everyone was supposed to know how to fight back in an emergency.

For some people, however, that training was a while ago, and there's been no call for that information in their head ever since.  They get rusty.

I put a hole in the woman's head from across the lobby before she had taken two steps away from her chair.

Book 31 of 52: "Dead Girls Don't Wear Diamonds" by Nancy Martin

So this book is #2 in the Blackbird Sisters mystery series, a light-hearted series about a former member of high society who, now broke after her parents fled the country with their millions to evade taxes, now has to get by with a working job as a society columnist.  If this sounds like the setup to a lighthearted mystery series, well, you're absolutely correct.

These books are not deep literary masterpieces by any stretch of the imagination, but they are fun to pick up on a warm sunny afternoon and read outside.  When I want something that's light and doesn't require much deep thought, books like these are great.

Parking Ticket

"Okay.  It should be just over this hill."

Jansen sighed as he watched Ames bound off ahead of him.  The other astronaut might only be a few years younger, but it showed.  The younger man took huge, bounding steps, not worrying about damaging his suit.

Following behind, Jansen insisted on more caution, even though it slowed his pace.  All these young bucks were so eager to explore, to push boundaries, that they never listened to the safety briefings.  Jansen knew very well what even a small rip on the suit could do, this far out from the lander.

"There it is!  I found it - wait..."

Danni California, Part 24

Continued from Part 23, here.
Start the story here.

* * *

The next morning, I rose solemnly from where I had spent the night sitting on the floor.  My joints felt stiff for a moment as I stretched them, but they quickly limbered up.  I still went through the full range of exercises, making sure that I had a full range of motion for all of my limbs.

Once all of my muscles were loose and ready for action, I began to dress myself.

I didn't let myself stop to consider that this might be the last time I ever did so.

First, I pulled on the lightweight armored vest I had picked up.  It wouldn't stop a direct slug, I knew, but it might slow down and deflect shrapnel or ricochets.  More importantly, it let me keep the flexibility and speed that I knew would be my best defense.

Next came the two belts of ammunition, bandoliers that slung across my chest.  I made sure to tighten the straps so that they wouldn't catch on anything.  I couldn't let them slow me down.  The bullets slid into their little leather loops weighed me down a little, but I knew that the belts would grow lighter as I expended their contents.

The revolvers slid snugly into their matched shoulder harnesses.  I made sure that they were loose enough for me to draw in a single, fluid motion, without any snags.

To cover it all, I pulled an item from the bottom of my pack.  I hadn't worn my Priest coat in weeks, now.  To do so would be to draw attention to myself.  That wasn't what I wanted.

But now, for my destination, it would serve as my camouflage.

And finally, finishing the ensemble, I pulled out my old black, flat-brimmed hat.  Its time in the pack had flattened and crushed its shape somewhat, but I smoothed it back out with my hands.  Only once it was once again somewhat crisp, as best as I could manage, did I carefully fit it on my head.

I was walking into the place where I would be most known, most likely to be recognized.  Every other man and woman in the building would know me, would instantly know the price on my head.  Each second of anonymity I could buy was precious.

I looked around the room, gazing down at the bed for several minutes.  I didn't speak.  What else was there for me to say?

And then I left.

The sun was still barely a red shard above the horizon, and the streets were not yet filled with people.  It was nearly silent as I made my way through the maze of little back roads I'd mapped out.  My eyes remained up on the horizon, locked on the black tower that rose up from the other buildings, directly ahead of me.

The Organization.

My first challenge lay in front of the tower.  A large courtyard, covered in stone, with no cover, stood between me and my destination.  Even in building their headquarters, the Priests had thought defensively, strategically.

Despite my focus, my heart quickened slightly in my chest as I began crossing the courtyard.  Keep calm, betray nothing, I thought to myself.  Don't let anyone question you.

I made it more than halfway across the courtyard before someone noticed me.

"Hey, you're coming in early!" a voice called out behind me, nearly making me jump in surprise before I clamped down on my reactions before they could betray me.  "Wait up a moment!"

The other Priest jogged forward; I could hear his footsteps on the smooth stones.  It wasn't until he came up alongside me that he slowed, and I saw his expression shift from open greeting to one of confusion.

"Wait a sec," he said, his brow furrowing.  "Hold on, aren't you the rebel-"

I spun towards him, my hand flashing out.  The knife blade extending from my fist buried itself to the hilt in his neck, silencing him forever.

But now, my cover was blown.  The man's body sagged, his eyes already glazing over.  I pulled the bloody knife free, but the man was dead weight, and he sagged down onto the ground.  Already, blood spurted out from his body to puddle beneath him.

As soon as I'd released him, I broke into a run.  I was scarcely thirty paces from the front doors of the tower.  I could make it.

Thankfully, luck was on my side.  There were guards stationed outside the front doors of the Organization's tower, of course, but their reactions were slowed, by some combination of the early hour and their surprise at a direct frontal assault by a lone man.  My knife cut deep across the left guard's throat before he could even draw his weapon.

The right guard was drawing his gun, but I didn't slow down.  I spun around, pulling my arm back in against my chest to increase my speed, and let go of the knife with my hand tilted sideways.

The blade flew true, disappearing into the other man's chest.

I got to see the man's eyes go wide as he tried to sluggishly comprehend what had just happened.  He looked down, down at the handle protruding out from his chest.  He opened his mouth, trying to say something, or maybe ask me a question.

I reached out and grabbed the handle of the knife, pulling it free.

It was as if I'd flipped a switch.  With the blade out of his chest, the other guard slowly toppled forward, falling to the ground like a felled tree.

I didn't watch him drop.

My eyes were up, on the doors leading into the tower.  I didn't see any panicked movement inside, not yet.

That would soon change.

The time for subtlety was over.  I drew one of my revolvers, wiped my knife blade clean of the blood and tucked it away.  I took a deep breath, several breaths, filling my muscles with oxygen.

And then I entered the tower.

To be continued . . . 

Book 30 of 52: "The Republic of Thieves" by Scott Lynch

Author's note: I'm writing this entry in mid-June.  I'm quite a few books ahead on my challenge!

I've already written about my experiences with the first two books in Scott Lynch's Gentleman Bastards series: The Lies of Locke Lamora and Red Seas Under Red Skies.  After reading those two, well, I was hooked!  I actually got "The Republic of Thieves" as an ebook, so that I could read it on my MacBook Air late at night.

The first book in Scott Lynch's series featured Locke and Jean in the city of Camorr, pulling heists.  The second book sent the intrepid and squabbling duo out to sea, where they played at pirates.  Now, in this third book, the two dive into the deepest and dirtiest world of all: politics!