Eye of the Storm
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Elusive master terrorist Sean Dillon reemerges during the Gulf War when Saddam Hussein hires him to assassinate Margaret Thatcher, and only Martin Brosnan can stop him. 225,000 first printing. $150,000 ad/promo. BOMC Feat Alt. Reader's Digest Cond Bks.
the Walther in his waistband at the rear, had a quick glance each way to see that no one was about, then started to climb the scaffolding. It was Mary Tanner on the phone. ‘Brigadier Ferguson wondered whether we could see you again in the morning before going back?’ ‘It won’t do you any good,’ Brosnan told her. ‘Is that a yes or a no?’ ‘All right,’ he said reluctantly. ‘If you must.’ ‘I understand,’ she said, ‘I really do. Has Anne-Marie recovered?’ ‘A tough lady, that one,’ he said. ‘She’s
maternal grandmother who was American. Through her, his mother had inherited ten million dollars and a number of oil leases in Texas. She had died the year Aroun had graduated from Harvard Law School leaving everything to her son because his father, retired as a general from the Iraqi Army, was happy to spend his later years at the old family house in Baghdad with his books. Like most great businessmen, Aroun had no academic training in the field. He knew nothing of financial planning or
sachets of coffee, teabags and powdered milk. Still, it wouldn’t be for long and he opened his suitcase and unpacked. Among Jack Harvey’s interests was a funeral business in Whitechapel. It was a sizeable establishment and did well for, as he liked to joke, the dead were always with us. It was an imposing three-storeyed Victorian building which he’d had renovated. Myra had the top floor as a penthouse and took an interest in the running of the place. Harvey had an office on the first floor.
I’d have to check.’ ‘Just a minute, I’ve got a BA Worldwide Timetable here.’ she said and opened her desk drawer. She found it and looked at the Belfast schedule. ‘The last plane is eight-thirty. You’ll never make it. It’s quarter to seven now. It’s murder getting out to Heathrow in the evening traffic and this weather will make it worse. Probably at least an hour or maybe an hour and a half.’ ‘I know,’ Dillon said. ‘What about the morning?’ ‘Same time, eight-thirty.’ ‘I’ll just have to get
He was out of the room and descending the backstairs, briefcase in hand, within five minutes of having entered. He went up the alley, turned into the Falls Road and started to walk briskly. Within five minutes he managed to hail a taxi and told the driver to take him to the airport. The officer in charge of Army Intelligence for the Belfast city area was a Colonel McLeod and he was not best pleased with the situation with which he was confronted. ‘It really isn’t good enough, Captain Tanner,’