/b>
1
The puck smashed into the goal like a grenade exploding.
Making a quarter turn with his stick, Michael deftly flipped a new puck onto the ice from the quickly emptying bucket at his feet. Moving like a low flying plane, he approached the goal and crossed the bar. Before another second had passed, an orange puck had smashed almost through the nubbly gray net and joined the other pucks scattered at the bottom of the goal.
At least I can still aim, Michael thought, looking with satisfaction at the growing constellation of pucks that had shot back onto the ice after being pounded inside the bounds.
Too bad I’m fifty thousand times too slow to be the next Wayne Gretzky.
In the cold air of the rink, Michael’s breath made plumes of smoke as he skated over to his bag to take a swig from his water bottle.
Though at this point, I’d be happ ... read full excerpt from Alias: The Pursuit ebook
