In the Hour Before Midnight (Thorndike Famous Authors)
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Stacey Wyatt is a gifted pianist. He is also a competent mercenary soldier. But at the moment, he is sojourning in an Egyptian prison.
Sean Burke has plans to rescue him. Charity is not his motive. He merely needs Stacey for what becomes a deadly intrigue. There is just one hitch.
"An astonishing story of high-action and foreign intrigue. The developing play of confidences leads to an explosive climax unrivaled in the genre." (Reviewer's Weekly)
through my freshman year at Harvard when there was a sudden banging above my head, a chain rattled, and from the scraping I knew that the stones were being pulled away. When the wooden trap was lifted, the sunlight flooded in, momentarily blinding me. I closed my eyes, blinked and looked through a soft, golden haze that told me it was late afternoon. Major Husseini crouched at the edge, small and wizened, dried up by the Sinai sun that had deranged him, his olive face pitted from the smallpox. A
moved in and out of the undergrowth, pecking vigorously at the soil. A boy of eighteen or nineteen, presumably the Joe Ricco Cerda had mentioned, crouched over a small fire, feeding the flames beneath a cooking pot with sticks. Except for his youth and red Norman hair, he was depressingly similar in appearance to the rest of them. The same cloth cap, patched suit and leather leggings, the same sullen, brutalised features. He got up, staring at me curiously, and the Vivaldi brothers joined him,
must school ourselves to patience, that to go now would be madness. But one by one, the others cracked, made a run for it and were chopped down. Five hours later, when darkness fell, Burke and I crawled away in perfect safety. My shoulder had stopped bleeding—I think because of my immersion in the ice-cold waters of the stream—and the hole where the bullet had entered had closed into two rather obscene purple lips. And it had gone straight through, thank God, which I discovered when I probed
how I came to be in an Egyptian prison?” For once in his life I’d stopped him cold. A hand stretched out towards me, there was utter dismay on his face. “Stacey,” he stammered. “What can I say? I did this to you?” “Forget it,” I said. “It’s too funny to be tragic. Now let me have the next thrilling installment.” He sank down into his chair again, obviously still shaken. “All right. Hoffer had to have his chance to recoup so that the Society shouldn’t suffer. The Council met to consider his
completely, became almost a different person. He laughed out of the darkness, reached over and squeezed my arm. “I’ll teach you, Stacey—everything you need to know. We’ll cut a path from one end of the Congo to the other and come out laughing with our pockets full of gold.” Thunder rumbled beyond the horizon like distant drums and rain started to fall, heavy and warm, thumping against the canvas roof. The air was electric. I was seized with excitement. I suppose the simple fact was that I wanted