Phil Valentine-Audiobook
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Chapter 21. Do we know it's movements? Elena show? Robbie asked the Arab man. Not quite old enough to be your father, who sat at the table in the hotel room. He's leaving first thing in the morning. He said he sucked on a toothpick and watched her from behind, stuffing clothing into a duffel bag. Then we mustn't be late. Did you bring my suit? I did. Splendid. I want to look my best. She smiled. You have developed feelings for the American. Don't be ridiculous. I don't even know the man. He got up from the table and walked over to the bed. You must not let thoughts of him cloud your judgment. You have a job to do. She spun around to face him. I bloody well know what my job is. And I don't need to remind us from you. He held up his hands, the tooth big hanging from the side of his mouth. Okay, okay. You are a bigger. I was just trying to keep you focused. He returned to the table and sat back down. Her burst of anger melted and she smiled at her own overreaction. I know you're just trying to be helpful. Are you sure you won't go in my place? Elena, You flatter me. You know, I am not up to the task. This is much more of your area of expertise. You would be far less conspicuous and fire less effective. I'm afraid you are the perfect choice to take him down. She released the magazine of her pistol, check the rounds, then slammed it back into the grip of the gun and zipped it up in the duffel. Let's help your right. McQueen came prepared to hear that the society was a complete fabrication. Instead, a legend of the spy business was telling him they were part myth. Part fact. How so? McQueen as the Commodore. What's the easiest way to stay completely under the radar while striking fear in the hearts of men? McQueen shrug. The story has to be so fantastical that it cannot possibly be true, but so terrifying that if it is, you make sure you stay out of their way. Hitler's brain being preserved and transferred to another body like some Nazi Frankenstein. Pure rubbish men and some women, mind you, who want to return Germany to its glory days. Absolutely true. Well, who are these people? That's precisely the problem. No one knows you chaps found more in the last few days than we've ever seen before. Yeah, but they're all dead. The Commodore rubbed his considerable mustache. True, but a dead Bigfoot is still a big foot now, isn't it?