The Solomon Curse (A Fargo Adventure Book 7) by Clive Cussler & Russell Blake

Author:Clive Cussler & Russell Blake [Cussler, Clive & Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, United States, Thrillers & Suspense, Suspense, Thriller, Thrillers
ISBN: 039917432X
Amazon: B00SI02ATS
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Published: 2015-09-02T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 30

Sam edged toward the door. He was only steps away when a figure burst through it and tore at full speed down the hall.

Sam hissed, “Get help. Have the hotel call the police,” and took off after the thief. His shoulder slammed into the wall as he rounded the corner just in time to see the steel exit door at the far end of the corridor swing shut. He drove himself harder, only slowing when he reached the door. He stopped, listening, and then pushed through, out into the darkness.

Sam’s eyes swept the edge of the parking lot and locked on the man, running across the boulevard. Sam covered the distance to the street in a matter of seconds, but his quarry was fast and he disappeared into an alley on the other side. Sam bolted after him, laser-focused on the thief, and he barely registered a dark form hurtling at him from down the street before he was falling, his left side flaring with pain.

An islander on a decrepit bicycle tumbled next to him with a loud clatter. Sam had hit the ground hard. He lay on the pavement for a few seconds with the wind knocked out of him, trying to understand what had happened, and then realized that the bicyclist had been invisible in the darkness because he had no headlight or reflectors.

Sam pushed himself to his feet as the man on the bicycle swore at him from the asphalt in pidgin. Sam’s knee was throbbing, and he could feel scrapes where he’d landed, but he was in one piece, nothing broken.

And the thief was getting away.

He glanced at the fallen rider, a young man who appeared to be fine, if disgruntled, and took up his pursuit of the thief, sprinting for the dark gap that was the alley’s mouth. He paused when he reached it—there was no light, and he could barely make out the far end. Sam glanced to either side and, seeing no hiding places from which he could be ambushed, set out at a flat run. When he reached the other end of the alley, he was on a narrower street, with a handful of small shops on the near side and industrial buildings on the other.

His eyes roved over the buildings, searching for motion or anything out of place. From the far corner, the sound of metal scraping against cement reached his ears. Sam covered the distance in a blink.

And found himself looking at a black-and-white cat perched on a pile of refuse by a garbage can. The feline glared at him, annoyed at being interrupted on its nocturnal rounds, and hopped down, before scurrying off.

Sam froze, straining his ears for any sounds of running human feet. The buzz of a distant motor scooter echoed off the waterfront, but there was nothing else. The area was deserted. After several long moments, he took a final look down the street and sighed.

The thief had escaped.

He made his way back to the hotel,

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