Le Syndicat was technically a bar, though Cannon was loathe to assign it even the tiny amount of dignity befitting that word. It was a dimly-lit dump, done no favors by the choice to furnish in dark wood. Half of … Continue reading
Three days later, Inconstant swung against her mooring lines in the countryside near Hanoi, east of the river which itself was east of the city. Hanoi was a better zeppelin port than most cities around the rim of the East … Continue reading
In one smooth motion, Cannon kicked Kopeikin’s pistol out the hatch and picked up his belt. The pistol skipped off the decking, clanked against one of the railing’s poles, and fell into the growing gloom below. Cannon dashed behind the … Continue reading
Cannon undid his belt and handed it to Iseabail, ducking out from behind the engine to remind the remaining Russians what a bad idea it would be to come any closer. “Get across,” he said. “An’ wha’ about you?” “I … Continue reading
“They’re here!” Iseabail cried. Cannon had abandoned his position by the door, and now crouched behind the engine block, leaning out to exchange fire with a trio of Soviet torpedoes. A fourth gunman sprawled just inside the engine car, at … Continue reading
“There!” Emma called. A long line of white smoke, stirred into whirling eddies and vortices by the zeppelin’s propeller wash, stretched from one of gondolas along its side. “Third engine car back, this side.” Choufeng made no response, but pulled … Continue reading
Emma settled a headset over her ears, bent the microphone into place, and plugged the cable into a box on the fuselage. “How are we supposed to find the skipper?” she wondered. “He will signal,” Choufeng replied. “How?” There was … Continue reading
Iseabail became aware of a snapping sound, and looked up. Cannon, glowering impatiently, withdrew his hand from its place next to her ear. “Sorry,” she said. “Money’s distractin’.” “The rest of this is worth ten times what Lachapelle owes us, … Continue reading
Cannon padded along the catwalk. Further forward, behind them, came the sound of boots rattling on steel. He flattened himself against the bulkhead behind him. Iseabail scrambled to follow suit, but the Russians were going the other direction. Nobody seemed … Continue reading
Cannon swung his legs over the catwalk railing and landed as quietly as he could. He pointed his Mauser toward the centerline along the catwalk and waited. No Russians appeared in his sights, so he tucked the pistol back into … Continue reading
