Stranded With A Spy
Acrisp September breeze rustled the leaves of the chestnut trees lining a quiet side street just off Massachusetts Avenue, in the heart of Washington, D.C.’s embassy district. When a taxi pulled up at an elegant townhouse halfway down the block, the driver frowned and shot a quick look in the rearview mirror.
“You sure you got the right address?”
“I’m sure.” His passenger peeled off two bills.
“Keep the change.”
Despite the hefty tip, the driver’s frown stayed in place as his fare hauled his beat-up leather carryall out of the cab.
No big surprise there, Cutter Smith thought sardonically. He hadn’t slept in going on forty-eight hours and he hadn’t shaved in twice that long. And not even four days’ worth of raspy whiskers could disguise the scars on the right side of his chin and neck. When most people noticed the puckered skin, they quickly turned away. Others, like the cabbie, looked long and hard, as if memorizing the face that went with the scars in case they later had to pick him out of a police lineup.
As Cutter hefted his carryall and mounted the front steps, his gaze we ... read full excerpt from: Stranded with a Spy ebook
