The Frenchman
Chapters (76)
- COVER PAGE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- DEDICATION
- AMIN
- PARIS
- … TWO YEARS LATER
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- EPILOGUE
COVER PAGE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Beaumont is the pseudonym of a former operative in the clandestine operations branch of the French foreign secret service, the DGSE. He joined ‘The Company’ after being an air force fighter pilot and later flying special operations and intelligence missions. Beaumont’s background gives The Frenchman a level of authenticity that few other spy thrillers have been able to achieve.
DEDICATION
TO MY WIFE AND CHILDREN
AMIN
AMIN
The expert standing on the stage thanked the presenter, signalling an end to the session on solid-fuel propellants. Amin rose to his feet with two hundred other scientists and engineers as the lights came up on the conference floor. The large doors of the ballroom in Singapore’s Pan Pacific Hotel swung open and he moved towards them. As he reached the exit, a ruddy-faced Australian radar engineer approached him. Amin knew John Vaughan from other conferences but, despite the Queenslander’s friendliness, Amin had always kept his distance, trying to limit his social exposure.
‘Shit, mate, did you understand any of that?’ John shook his head. ‘I was a passenger for most of it.’
Amin chuckled. ‘It’s a small club, the rocket world.’
‘Fancy an early beer?’ asked the Aussie. ‘The boys found a bar needs propping up.’
Amin glanced at his watch.
‘Sorry, I have some work to finish in my room.’
He caught the elevator to his room on the eighth floor and secured the interior mechanical bolt. Pulling the curtains, he shut out a view of the marina and fished a disposable cell phone from his wheelie case. It was 1.59 p.m., one minute until his daily call. He assembled the battery and SIM card into the Samsung he’d bought at Changi Airport, and at 2 p.m. Singapore time he selected ‘Dan’—a name in the middle of a contact list of nonsense numbers—and hit the green button.