White Death: An Alex Hawke Novella - Plot & Excerpts
she said, leaning forward and putting her hand on the Uber driver’s shoulder. “Stop, please, this is number eleven on the right.” The Range Rover coasted to a stop outside a dingy row of indistinguishable shops. They all seemed to be falling down, yet they were crowded together cheek by jowl. “We found it,” Sigrid said. “Can you believe it?” “Hmm,” Ambrose said. He had his nose pressed against the foggy rear window, and he was trying to determine which one was the tiny emporium. He could barely make out MILITARY CURIOSITIES on the window in peeling gold leaf. The place looked abandoned. His spirits sank as he reached for the door handle to exit the Range Rover. “Let’s go,” his new partner said, opening her door. “Have you got your gun?” “Gun? I hardly think that will be necessary, dear.” “Yeah, but you’ve got it, that’s the main thing.”
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