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Stories
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You Can't Smoke in Here
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Florence in the Rain
Worn, wet stones on which Michelangelo once walked Are now our dance floor.
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A Steel Swiss Watch: Of Frank Sinatra
Bainbridge strutted down the alley, a devilish smile creasing his worn face. It was a face that life had marred and twisted into a mask of hate and disgust, and was now shot through with demented glee. It just felt so damn good! Good to break away from...
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A Silver Swiss Watch: Precious Metals
Teller peered into the room through the skinny, vertical window in the door. Ross was calm, but Teller could see that he was getting confused. And nervous. Bad things happened when Ross got nervous. That’s how they had lost Groves. Teller shifted...
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Ten Thousand Years Later
The sand crumbled beneath the brush as the archaeologist gently moved it back and forth, his face set in an intense grimace. This could be it. The find of my career. He thought of all the years that had brought him to this moment. All the nights he had...
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A Steel Swiss Watch: Bainbridge and Bloom
Priscilla Bloom’s eyes fluttered open. She looked up into Mr. Bainbridge’s flinty gray eyes in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here?” Bainbridge smiled. He was just hanging up his cell phone. “How familiar are you w...
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Contemplating Nietzsche
The revolver held six bullets, but he only had three. He rolled them around in his hand, watching the moonlight reflect off their brass casings—trying not to think about how woefully inadequate they were. Fog started to creep through the woods. H...
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A Golden Swiss Watch: Ubi Semitas Scindendum
Ross checked the woman’s vital signs. Mr. Fermi stood close by, fidgeting nervously. His collar was already soaked through with sweat. You must take this promotion! Fermi could still hear his wife’s words ringing in his ears. Her words alwa...
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We Were the Victims of Ourselves
When your only friends are hotel rooms, it’s hard to be the better man. You said that you could but you don’t understand I told you from the start I’m only going to break your heart. And it’s not a cry you can hear at night Now ...
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A Silver Swiss Watch: Mr. Teller
Mr. Teller calmly placed the receiver back on its hook. Stepped out of the phone booth. Lit a cigarette. He checked his silver watch. A deep scratch had been gouged into its face by a flying piece of debris. He picked at it with his manicured fingernai...
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the Castles we were going to build
the Castles we were going to build how They sparkled in the noonday sun of our dreams the Castles we were going to build would have scratched the skin of heaven and heaven bleeding would have washed us clean the Castles we were going to build would hav...
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A Swiss Watch: Fracture
Kyle Ross was in no hurry as he strolled down the cobblestone street, drinking in the fresh Alpine air. That song by Don McLean had been stuck in his head all day for some reason, and now he found himself softly singing the words. “Bye, bye, Miss...
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Dawn of the Iconoclast: A Fearsome Dichotomy (5)
The long, nimble finger traced the path of the stream through the forest, a finger attached to a hand that was as deadly as any weapon a blacksmith could forge. “The Hrithmore are camped, at this bend in the stream,” Dirge was saying, his finger ja...
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DotI: The Spiderweb Tattoo (2)
Darkness smothered the forest like a heavy, damp pillow as Traian surgically picked his way through the underbrush. The wind was growing stronger, making the trees sway and groan. In the distance, he could just barely see the faint glimmers of the camp...
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Dawn of the Iconoclast: A Fearsome Dichotomy
The long, nimble finger traced the path of the stream through the forest, a finger attached to a hand that was as deadly as any weapon a blacksmith could forge. “The Hrithmore are camped, at this bend in the stream,” Dirge was saying, his f...
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Dawn of the Iconoclast: The Spiderweb Tattoo
Darkness smothered the forest like a heavy, damp pillow as Traian surgically picked his way through the underbrush. The wind was growing stronger, making the trees sway and groan. In the distance, he could just barely see the faint glimmers of the camp...
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A Swiss Watch
90 seconds. Breucker watched the silver second hand slide across the white face of his elegant watch. 89. 88. From a tiny cafe perched atop the Manor department store, Breucker had a spectacular view of Lucerne and the snow-capped mountains that encomp...
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Scriptorium, Pt. 6
Valentine sliced through the last bit of vegetation and stepped forward into the clearing. He froze. The machete slipped from his hands. Beside him, Wellington dropped to his knees and crossed himself. Everett swore. “This is the team’s las...
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Scriptorium, Pt. 5
They continued to pick their way through the jungle, gradually moving farther and farther away from the blistering gunfire. Valentine stopped, motioned for Briggs to continue around to the Chinese’s rear. Briggs nodded and disappeared. Valentine ...
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Scriptorium, Pt 4
Valentine collapsed against the trunk of a mammoth tree and guzzled the last few mouthfuls of his canteen. Bark exploded in his face as bullets peppered the tree. He couldn’t breathe. Briggs emptied his clip, then dashed to Valentine’s side...
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Scriptorium, Pt. 3
Diana eyed Valentine as he flipped through the folder. “One of our search teams sent out an encrypted message saying they might have found something. And that was the last we heard from them.” “You don’t think they…”...
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Scriptorium, Pt. 2
Valentine’s silver eyebrows rose slightly. That was the trouble with Diana. She always knew too much. “No, I can’t say I have.” “It’s okay, dear. You can talk to me. I have Level Eight clearance, too.” “I...
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Scriptorium, Pt. 1
“You still drink Godfathers, Valentine?” “When I get the chance.” Addison Valentine took a seat on the plush, leather couch. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his tuxedo pants, watching as she stirred the Scotch and amaretto, th...
