BLACK in the Box
Authors: Russell Blake
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Hard-Boiled, #Private Investigators
BLACK in the Box
Russell Blake
Copyright 2015 by Russell Blake. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact:
Published by
Contents
Books by Russell Blake
Co-authored with Clive Cussler
THE EYE OF HEAVEN
THE SOLOMON CURSE
Thrillers
FATAL EXCHANGE
THE GERONIMO BREACH
ZERO SUM
THE DELPHI CHRONICLE TRILOGY
THE VOYNICH CYPHER
SILVER JUSTICE
UPON A PALE HORSE
DEADLY CALM
RAMSEY’S GOLD
EMERALD BUDDHA
The Assassin Series
KING OF SWORDS
NIGHT OF THE ASSASSIN
RETURN OF THE ASSASSIN
REVENGE OF THE ASSASSIN
BLOOD OF THE ASSASSIN
REQUIEM FOR THE ASSASSIN
The JET Series
JET
JET II – BETRAYAL
JET III – VENGEANCE
JET IV – RECKONING
JET V – LEGACY
JET VI – JUSTICE
JET VII – SANCTUARY
JET VIII – SURVIVAL
JET IX – ESCAPE
JET – OPS FILES (prequel)
JET – OPS FILES; TERROR ALERT
The BLACK Series
BLACK
BLACK IS BACK
BLACK IS THE NEW BLACK
BLACK TO REALITY
BLACK IN THE BOX
Non Fiction
AN ANGEL WITH FUR
HOW TO SELL A GAZILLION EBOOKS
(while drunk, high or incarcerated)
About the Author
Featured in
The Wall Street Journal
,
The Times
, and
The Chicago Tribune
, Russell Blake is
The NY Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of over forty novels, including
Fatal Exchange
,
The Geronimo Breach
,
Zero Sum
,
King of Swords
,
Night of the Assassin
,
Revenge of the Assassin
,
Return of the Assassin
,
Blood of the Assassin
,
Requiem for the Assassin
,
The Delphi Chronicle
trilogy,
The Voynich Cypher
,
Silver Justice
,
JET
,
JET – Ops Files
,
JET – Ops Files: Terror Alert
,
JET II – Betrayal
,
JET III – Vengeance
,
JET IV – Reckoning
,
JET V – Legacy
,
JET VI – Justice
,
JET VII – Sanctuary
,
JET VIII – Survival
,
JET IX – Escape
,
Upon a Pale Horse
,
BLACK
,
BLACK is Back
,
BLACK is The New Black
,
BLACK to Reality
,
Deadly Calm
,
Ramsey’s Gold
, and
Emerald Buddha
.
Non-fiction includes the international bestseller
An Angel With Fur
(animal biography) and
How To Sell A Gazillion eBooks In No Time
(even if drunk, high or incarcerated), a parody of all things writing-related.
Blake is co-author of
The Eye of Heaven
and
The Solomon Curse
, with legendary author Clive Cussler. Blake’s novel
King of Swords
has been translated into German,
The Voynich Cypher
into Bulgarian, and his JET novels into Spanish, German, and Czech.
Blake writes under the moniker R.E. Blake in the NA/YA/Contemporary Romance genres. Novels include
Less Than Nothing
,
More Than Anything
, and
Best Of Everything
.
Having resided in Mexico for a dozen years, Blake enjoys his dogs, fishing, boating, tequila and writing, while battling world domination by clowns. His thoughts, such as they are, can be found at his blog:
RussellBlake.com
To get your free copy,
just join my readers’ group here:
The BLACK Series
BLACK
Preview and purchase at Amazon
BLACK is Back
Preview and purchase at Amazon
BLACK is The New Black
Preview and purchase at Amazon
BLACK to Reality
Preview and purchase at Amazon
Chapter 1
Nine months ago, Mahmudiyah, Iraq
A hot wind blew down the dusty street near the ruins of a bombed-out building as a figure moved down the dark roadside. Clad in local garb, Abreeq Rhazali was fluent in Farsi and Arabic, as well as English, which had come in handy in his career with military intelligence – but not handy enough to earn him a prized analyst position, safely behind climate-controlled, heavily guarded walls. As a field agent stationed in Iraq for approaching three years, he despised the place’s extreme heat, constant danger, and above all, the beige dust that coated every surface like a toxic film.
But now, with some luck, he’d hit the mother lode.
At least it appeared that way. He’d been cultivating contacts among the townspeople and had tripped across an account that, when put together with other threads, would result in his long stint of misery coming to an end, with him living a life of luxury reserved for potentates and bankers.
Of course, nothing was ever easy, which was why he’d snuck out and was now making his way through hostile territory toward a destination only he knew.
Abreeq passed another partially destroyed structure, its walls crumbling from where artillery shells had blown holes in it, and slowed to eye his cell phone. On the screen was a map that he’d crafted in loving detail, using classified aerial reconnaissance images – nothing in the public domain was current, and the photographs available there were carefully filtered, most of them many years old.
He was close. Down the narrow alley, through a collection of abandoned homes. Abreeq had to admire the ingenuity, hiding in plain sight like that. He smiled to himself and picked up his pace, the bullpup submachine gun beneath his bulky top comfortably reassuring in its ability to deliver death on command.
The chatter of automatic rifle fire echoed down the street from what sounded like only a few blocks away. AK-47, he knew – the preferred weapon of insurgents and jihadists the world over. Iraq was lousy with them, and it seemed like every local over the age of five had at least one.
The roar of a motor echoed off the collapsed walls of the surrounding homes, and Abreeq tensed. He was taking a massive gamble being in this area after dark, but he was confident he would be able to bluster his way through any confrontation. His Arabic was fluent and unaccented, and he looked exactly like countless other young men roaming the desolate streets – at least, that was his hope.
A silver Toyota Hilux rounded the corner ahead and bore down on him, its headlights blinding. As it slowed, he could make out rifle barrels jutting from the truck bed like porcupine quills. It was the local militia, who were known for their ruthlessness and who policed the poor neighborhoods where the puppet government’s laughable force was afraid to go.
“You. Hands up,” a voice called from one of the open windows.
Abreeq complied, his weapon supported by a shoulder sling beneath his garment. Two bearded men dropped from the truck bed and approached, their AKs trained on him.
“What are you doing here?” the shorter of the gunmen demanded.
Abreeq shrugged. “Scavenging. I haven’t eaten in two days. Do…do you have any food or a few coins you can spare?”