Then, as he did with every letter he wrote his wife, he deleted it. She’d get it anyway, of that he was certain, and the celestial e-mail system was one that not even the NSA could tap. He stood and stretched. His fingers brushed the speckled ceiling of Irina’s sad little motel room as he invento...
Absolutely. More fun than you’ve ever had in your entire life. Close. Very close. The guy in the BMW isn’t taking you seriously. Flash him. Dave hit his high beams. The BMW’s driver had his ear glued to a cellular telephone. He refused to move, straddling two lanes, and blocking Dave’s passage. D...