The Attack: A Max Austin Thriller, Book #3 (The Russian Assassin) by Jack Arbor

Author:Jack Arbor [Arbor, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947696020
Publisher: High Caliber Books
Published: 2017-11-06T08:00:00+00:00

Max stood just off King’s Parade, gazing like a tourist at the ivy-covered ramparts of Kings College, smack in the middle of Cambridge. With a digital SLR camera around his neck, he wore a floppy hat to ward off the sun and provide partial disguise. Completing his ensemble were oversized wraparound sunglasses covering his eyes and a backpack with the name of a French football team slung over one shoulder. A compact pistol, for emergencies only, was at the small of his back. His adopted cover was that of the father of a French high school girl who wished to attend Cambridge the following year. He was in London on business and came to Cambridge to take a tour and scout the place on behalf of his daughter.

The manicured grass of the quadrangle was empty while the students attended midmorning classes. A rare English blue sky was overhead, but clouds on the horizon threatened rain. Max hoped the moisture would stay at bay long enough to complete his mission. He walked to a pair of double doors set into tall Gothic yellow walls topped with towering spires and confirmed the building was indeed the economics department.

He took a few steps back to snap photos of the building before following a gravel path to the gentle River Cam. He turned right to stroll north toward St. Johns and stopped when he saw the Bridge of Sighs. He checked his watch, removed a guidebook from his pocket, and learned that the Bridge of Sighs, built in the neo-gothic tradition with arched windows and stone ramparts, was named after a covered bridge in Venice where prisoners sighed as they were escorted to their cells. Several skiffs containing tourists floated on the river, piloted by drivers wearing green vests over white shirts who guided the boats with long poles.

He captured a few pictures of the river before sauntering back in the direction of King’s College. As he approached the wide grassy field, bells tolled and a stream of students exited the buildings, spreading out like lemmings. Soon the quadrangle was filled with students in small groups, talking, sharing cigarettes, and laughing at jokes. In front of him, walking with a purpose and hunched under a large rucksack, came a short but curvy student with heavy mascara and her dark hair held back with a barrette.

Max pretended to ignore her, but watched her out of his periphery. He knew she had twenty minutes to make it from King’s College to St. John’s, where she had a class in romantic literature. Based on what Max read in her file, he guessed she would rather be anywhere than in a literature class, but her attendance proved she was also determined not to let the class bring down her average.

Despite the warm temperature, she wore a gray knee-length skirt over black leggings, sensible but expensive-looking shoes, and a jean jacket that looked worn but was probably purchased in a boutique on London’s Oxford Street. As Max guessed, she took the gravel path along the river, the shortest route to St John’s.

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