Race Against Time

He went to the bar, bypassing his usual shot of whiskey and picking up a bottle of Grey Goose instead, a nod to his Slavic roots. He poured himself a stiff drink and took it to his office, sat down to check the stock market, then moved to email, cruising through the messages as the vodka in the glass slowly disappeared.

He was getting up for a refill when his cell signaled a text. He frowned as he read the message—this was not the news he wanted to hear. His son was in federal custody, and the woman who’d found him in the desert was in the hospital on the same floor as Star, and under police protection.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.