Now that you’ve seen the book trailer about Alex’s next adventure, here’s a first taste of The Very Dangerous Liaison.
She approached the beach house steadily with all her senses finely honed. She had a package to deliver to her Saudi Al Qaeda defector – more cash to take care of him and a few goodies she thought he could use – a gun to protect himself and a fake passport. The Agency had fought her about it and had not wanted her to be the delivery person, but she insisted. He had been her asset, and she had promised him that she would check in every once in a while.
He had found her in Tunis when she was there meeting her old friends from the PLO. After losing his wife and son in a raid in Riyadh when he was out of the country, he had gotten tired of the fight. Unusual, but she was not one to argue. She had made the arrangements to get him to the US and to safety. The Agency was normally very good at that.
He had settled into the beach house in Cape May, and she had seen him once before. This would be her last trip, and she would explain that to him.
She walked up the porch stairs to the house – a typical Cape May shingle home. The grey wood weathered well, and it had a wide front porch with a few Adirondack chairs and a side table – a nice place to sit and watch the world go by. The door was slightly ajar which made her stomach tighten and strained all her senses. When she got inside with her gun drawn she found the agent dead in the front hall. She had just a second to register he died an instant death, shot clean through the forehead. Seven men appeared immediately, coming from different directions within the house, and tried to grab her. She had shot fourteen bullets before she decided to run with only one bullet left in her Sig Sauer. “A great waste of bullets,” she thought. “It’s time to go back to the firing range and practice again.” Usually she could take care of someone with one bullet but these guys were so good at ducking and hiding behind corners in the house that she had used up her magazine. She did not have time to pull the extra gun, brought for her old agent, out of her custom made Hermes fanny pack and load it.
She ran out the back through the giant screened porch, and full raced down the beach, weaving in and out to avoid the shots coming from behind her. As the bullets whizzed by her head, she calculated how they were gaining on her. It was the middle of the day and she found it fascinating and frustrating that no one was on the beach. No one to help at all.
“Where the hell are the vacationers?” she thought. She kept running and suddenly saw a small sand dune.
“If I can get around that, I might have a chance,” she thought.
She pushed her legs up one gear and did a full sprint to the dune, made the corner and ran up to the top and threw herself flat facing where she had come from. She was lying in the sharp dune grass that slices your ankles when walking through it. It provided a smidgeon of cover so she ignored the little scratches she was getting all over her body. The two men were getting close. She could be very efficient with her Sig Sauer, but she only had one shot so it was going to be tricky. She doubted she would have time to grab the second gun and load it.
“I’ll go for the one in the lead and then hope the other will get discouraged,” she mused. “Ha! Why would he? Dream on Alex. He’ll keep coming, but I’ll worry about that next.”
She took very careful aim and adjusted for the angle and his running speed and let loose her last bullet. It was a perfect hit right in the heart. He dropped immediately. The other man in his tracksuit took two more steps, stopped, and turned.
Alex realized why. Out of nowhere, heading toward her, was a dune buggy at full speed. It swerved around and stopped at the base of the dune. The driver could clearly see her, the dead man and the gunman racing away.
He called out, “Come get on.” She slid down the dune, put her Sig Sauer back into her fanny pack, and got on grabbing hold of the waist of a perfect male body. “I like this rescue,” she thought and they sped off heading toward the southern tip of the Cape. When they had gone about a mile, the dune buggy stopped and the driver made moves for her to get off and then he did.
Face to face, he was a very attractive blond man in his mid-thirties with bright blue eyes. He was wearing a green bathing suit, very expensive Rolex solid gold watch and running shoes. He clearly lifted weights and probably ran every day.
“I don’t hear any more gun shots, do you?” he asked.
“No. Thank you very much for the rescue, by the way.” She flashed a smile showing off her perfect teeth.
“Want to tell me what that was about? I rarely hear gunshots here in Cape May and I have never seen a woman in shorts with a bikini top and packing heat.” He smiled and had a laugh in his eyes as he showed off his teeth.
“Um…can’t tell you? Wish I could, but I can’t.” She smiled a bigger smile and almost batted her eyelashes and hoped that would take care of it. She wondered if she would have to take a few hours with him to convince him to drop the subject. A little young for her but he looked like it would be worth it!
“Not the world’s best answer, but since you clearly aren’t going to tell me, where do you want me to drop you off?”
“Just take me to the ferry and you will have solved my problems this morning.”
As she held onto the perfect body once more she hoped no one had gotten to her car that she had parked on the street near the ferry. She had left the car and walked up the beach to make her delivery to the agent.
“Who is this guy? He’s clearly someone who knows how not to ask too many questions, recognizes gunfire, and seems awfully cool after seeing a dead body 20 feet away.” She thought to herself.
He pulled up outside the gate to the ferry and she jumped off.
“Again thanks so much for rescuing me.”
“Any chance I’ll ever find out the whole story?”
“One never knows.” She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the mouth.
“Just forget it and see what happens in the future.”
He laughed. “Okay. My name is Mike Johnson, just in case you need it. I’m in the phone book here and here is my card,” which he dug out of his shorts’ pocket.
“Deal, Mike. See ya!” She waved and wandered off. She hung in the parking rows until he was gone and then she went back out and down the side street to her car. She paused and scanned the street, her car looked fine. She wished she had a miniature bomb detector but she had not thought to bring one with her. She would not make that mistake again.
She got in her car, a beautiful Astin Martin DB8, started it, and it purred ready to go. She drove away from the ferry and took the land route back to DC via 95. She looked forward to sleeping in her own bed that night.