By Chuck Logan
Within the final two decades Phil dealer has pulled himself jointly. a great, difficult undercover cop in Minnesota, he is aware the adaptation among a sucker punch and a fortunate holiday. And even supposing he is placed his Vietnam years in the back of him, the grown daughter of his previous commander has been dogging his heels for months. Nina Pryce is making an attempt to exonerate her dishonorably discharged lifeless father and -- extra importantly -- locate the ten a whole lot gold he helped unlock in the course of a U.S. commando mission.Broker does not just like the scent of it. nonetheless, Nina has her charms, and will be very persuasive. the one challenge is, of Broker's outdated military pals have overwhelmed them to the hunt. wealthy, sadistic Cyrus los angeles Porte has the capability, yet no direction.Convicted thief Jimmy Tuna has a line at the position yet no money. Jimmy's a demise guy with not anything left to win -- or lose. And dealer and Nina recognize either males could kill them for the slimmest probability to take it all.A riveting suspense novel that reads like an exhilarating treasure hunt with a murderous legacy that echoes down from the previous.
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Extra resources for The Price of Blood
There’s a liability question,” he said. T. ” speculated the doctor, inserting the needle in the vial, playing with the pressure on the plunger, estimating his dose. ” “I could get sued,” pondered the doctor. T. Ed Ryan squatted next to the doctor. “I’m the ATF special agent in charge. Give the shot. ” replied the doctor. “Now,” said Ryan, in an icy voice. Earl, imprisoned in a dozen pairs of hands, shied back from the needle. The doctor pointed to Earl’s upper right arm. ’s hands. It reminded Broker of a bunch of cowboys and cowgirls hog-tying a steer.
Nail a fucking Russian tank with a gas bottle. ” yelled Pryce. “Over there, some collapsed hooch. There was a can of gas and a wine bottle. So I shredded a battle dressing for a wick. ” A triumphant grin knifed across LaPorte’s lean Creole face. The whole front had collapsed, a rout was in progress. LaPorte was smiling. 42 / CHUCK LOGAN Then, his local celebration spent, he swung his pale eyes to where Broker was entombed in cement. “Area’s crawling with NVA. ” he yelled. Tuna studied the slab of concrete angling down over Broker.
And she was moving and she glowed with an unhealthy excitement that looked to Broker like the moral pollution of some big city. Down South, judging from her surface tan and her clothing. She paused on the sidewalk and plunked down her suitcase. Twenty feet away and she radiated the energy of Excalibur plunged into the cement. Earl, impressed, removed his hat. ” Slang didn’t ride well on her clear, chiseled diction. Broker stared: deceptive tiger-kitty freckles, ascetic slightly sunken cheeks that bespoke hours of sweat hitting varnished gym floors, gray eyes, and a straight tidy nose.