Today we have a sneak peek from Author Michael James Gallagher’s new espionage thriller, Tsunami Connection.
A Mossad sleeper, the clever and striking protagonist, Kefira, stumbles into a deadly world domination plot. A diabolical Russian Oligarch devises a frighteningly effective weapon of mass destruction, while the CIA knowingly lingers and procrastinates to see if the weapon’s target succumbs. An evil Fenian terrorist goes rogue during the ‘Arab Spring’ in a destabilized Middle East. All the while, a despotic Russian President plots in an effort to influence prices in crude oil markets. To top it off, a sinister, though little known, powerful, yet clandestine, Chinese General watches events, waiting to pounce, using a new, highly secret weapon of mind control developed and tested on unwitting prisoners in the North Korean ‘Gulag’.
Here is an excerpt from Tsunami Connection…
Fripo was surprisingly reticent for a man who radiated love of womankind in a warm way. Because his daughter, Roxanna, had insisted he had asked if he and his daughter might share the table with Kefira. Kefira was glad of the company, flattered by the young girl’s attentions, and tired of the advances of young Argentinean men hitting on her. Fripo’s warmth was contagious and she found herself opening up and talking about things she probably should not have discussed.
“Why are you here,” he asked, toying with the lapel of his linen jacket.
“I am a dancer and I wanted to have some private lessons from a not too expensive professional with the depth of experience that only arrives in the twilight of a career.”
“Here’s my card. I fit the bill to a tee. Now, tell me why you are really here.”
His question startled her a bit. Had she lapsed so deeply in her tradecraft? Did this person know her or her work? “Impossible,” she thought, “I am just being paranoid.” Then from out of the blue, she admitted something dangerous.
“My parents died here. I can’t go into details but I had to come to Buenos Aires to get over it. I had to see the places they told me about. I need closure. I need to forgive them for leaving me alone in my early life.”
“This is uncanny,” said Fripo.
“What do you mean?”
“I wouldn’t have told you this but you look exactly like my ex-wife. That is why my daughter has reacted so strongly to you. Yolanda, my wife, died last year. Roxanna was devastated. You wouldn’t believe how much you resemble her.”
At that moment tears flowed from Kefira’s eyes. Years of hiding pain escaped her control mechanisms. Fripo put his arm around her, holding her close to him. It was then he noticed the perfume. It filled him with energy and desire. Roxanna interrupted their embrace. She was crying as well. The three of them, an hour ago strangers, were closer now than some people manage to become in a lifetime, but then Argentineans are unquestionably warm people. Kefira had come to the right place for closure.
“Two beautiful women crying’s too much for me,” said Fripo as he handed her his ascot, a pressed silk scarf, to dry her eyes with.
“You’re too kind,” Kefira replied.
“As for you my love, come and sit on Pepito’s knee. There, there. Don’t you like ice cream?”
“Here’s some money. You can see the ice cream store just across the square. Go and get yourself one. We can see you from here. Hurry now. It’s near closing time.”
Kefira recovered her composure. She looked again at this man in front of her. His smile lit up his face as she reassessed him.
“What was it you said? At the twilight of his career! I’m in my fifties, late fifties and I am raising my daughter by myself after having lost your twin last year. That settles it. Tomorrow afternoon you will come to my studio and I will introduce you to the land of tango.”