Tiarnán Malone sniffed, wiped his hand under his nose, and shifted only to still as his advocate leveled a glare at him.
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The cold desert air was the harbinger of death.
“Get the hell out of here, you mangy, good-for-nothing kid!”
There’s also another cover for the print version over in England.
Laciee Dupree shifted in the tangled mess of bedding.
The helicopter touched down on the ground, its shiny blue door opening as a tall man, bundled up against the elements, jumped out.
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Dane Sidorov sagged against the tree’s thick trunk.
Dorian West took notice the moment his target entered the dive bar, gaze sharp and focused on her, though he remained slumped in his seat.
Valentino Cassano downshifted and allowed the car, a smoky black Ferrari, to drift around the tight corner before shifting again.
The child’s short hair flew out in all directions as she stood before the couple, her hands twisting nervously in the front of her frayed shirt.
Why don’t you tell me what the fuck was so important I had to leave my post, risk my cover, not to mention the op, only to drive like crazy for almost three hundred miles to this place.
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