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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

Maintaining her cover, Echelon’s senior field agent displayed no reaction beyond taking another drink and watching McCutcheon like a hunter from the hide. Her stone face covered her own feelings of uncertainty. Had Musso planned to go off like that? Or had he been inspired by McCutcheon’s response to the uncompromising Colonel Murdoch? Even more intriguing, why had Tusk spoken in the anodyne euphemism about the security situation in the Federal Mandate? The question was at the forefront of her mind, she realised, thanks to the recent murder of Miguel Pieraro.

Lower-level bureaucratic harassment was one thing, amateur-hour genocide quite another. And from her reading of the Blackstone administration, they had some hard questions to answer about what had been happening to people like the Pieraro clan. She doubted that Blackstone possessed the means or even the base-level competence to have reached out and touched Pieraro in Missouri. But she had no doubt that the road agents had been able to run wild in Texas through an act of omission on his part, if not commission.

She placed McCutcheon’s new-best-friend routine firmly within the context of the listening devices she’d turned over in her room. To have planted them successfully, Blackstone must have turned at least one member of Musso’s staff, or somehow planted an agent here. Either operation would require a significant commitment of intelligence resources to the task of subverting Musso’s command. Tyrone and his boss were overreaching, but that just made them more dangerous.

Special Agent Monroe resolved then that although she would maintain her mission focus on establishing the meaning of the link between Blackstone and Ozal, and through him to Bilal Baumer, she would not lose sight of any opportunity to nail the motherfucker for the fate of anybody in the Mandate who may have lost their life on his say-so.

‘I think this calls for a real drink,’ she said to McCutcheon. ‘Are you a bourbon man, Ty?’

37

DEARBORN HOUSE, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Sunday night was pork chop night. The President of the United States of America said so. On Sunday nights, there were to be no formal state dinners, no working suppers shared with staff, no late-night pizzas, no Chinese takeaways scarfed down at the desk. Because Sunday night was pork chop night. And President James Kipper was working the grill, because on pork chop night he got to be a regular guy again. The staff were excused. Suzie was packed off to bed with a book, for lights out at 1930 hours. And the First Lady was banished to a hot, deep tub with a glass of wine, while Kip worked his barbecue magic.