Don Pendleton - Uncut Terror

After promising to check back, Bolan disconnected and they hailed a cab at random. They had a rendezvous to make by twenty-one hundred.

As they got into the cab Grimaldi leaned back in the seat as Bolan gave the driver the address of their hotel. The man nodded and tossed his cigarette out the car window.

“Hey,” Grimaldi said as the vehicle took off with a start. “You know who we ought to look up while we’re here?”

Bolan said nothing.

“Natalia,” Grimaldi said. “What was her last name?’

Bolan knew her last name was Kournikova, but he still said nothing.

“You know who I mean, right?” Grimaldi said. “She owes us, big time, after the way we helped her out in that Caribbean deal.” He paused and grinned. “Plus, I think she kinda had the hots for me.”

“She did,” Bolan said, allowing himself a rare grin. “But only in your dreams.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.