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Back Angels of Vengeance Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Blurb
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Dedication
  4. CHARACTER LIST
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. TWO MONTHS LATER
  60. ONE YEAR LATER
  61. TWO YEARS LATER
  62. FOUR YEARS LATER
  63. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  65. Also by John Birmingham
  66. ALSO BY JOHN BIRMINGHAM
  67. Copyright
  68. Cover

Thoughts of the loft at Northtown, and her father, seemed to uncap a deep wellspring of sorrow, which bubbled up inside her so quickly she was almost overwhelmed. She took a deep breath and threw down the rest of the water. The drugs must’ve been wearing off, she realised. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl into her bed and wake up in the morning to discover that it had all been a horrible, cruel dream. To find her father there making breakfast for them both and teasing her about how grumpy she was in the mornings. If she could do that, she would promise Jesus and Mary to never disrespect Papa again. To always do as she was asked. And for ever after to appreciate what she had.

Sofia pressed her lips together, lest the merest whimper escape from them. She bit down and swallowed her grief. She would allow herself to grieve properly later on, in private. For now, she had other priorities. Actions changed the world for the better, not feelings. Papa had taught her that.

She looked over again at the meth-head pair and returned their stare, hoping to infuse it with enough hostility to forestall any interest on their part. So intently was she glaring at them that she completely missed the threat approaching her from the side.

‘Seems like you might be in a lot of trouble, Miss.’

17

DEARBORN HOUSE, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Hours later, back in his office upstairs and nursing a Gentlemen Jack, Jed Culver had reason to ponder the role of serendipity. He was not somebody who believed in chance. Victory went to those who prepared, who stayed focused, and who did not relent no matter how much damage they were taking. And yet, sometimes the merest happenstance could change everything.

It was something Henry Cesky had said while he was bitching about Blackstone locking him out of government work down in Texas. Jed had no doubts at all that the businessman had been blacklisted for his role in toppling Mad Jack’s military junta a month or so after the Wave, and then for publicly and volubly aligning himself with Kipper during the election that eventually followed. Blackstone was indeed a vengeful cocksucker. Bill Gates wasn’t welcome down in Fort Hood either.

But he was a sloppy, arrogant, overreaching cocksucker too.

Culver sipped at his bourbon and enjoyed a warm, satisfied smile as he flipped through the folder he’d just received by safe-hand courier from Vancouver. Some things were worth sitting up late for.