Out the pane of bulletproof glass in front of her, Emma could just see the Red Banner running at full speed due west. Inconstant tailed the Soviet airship by a good five miles. Southwest of both zeppelins, the sun sank … Continue reading →

Volkov looked up. “You are not archaeologists.” Cannon lowered his pistol incrementally. “Pirates, actually.” Volkov nodded. “Is very valuable item in my—” “Yes, the idol.” Cannon waved the Mauser as he spoke. “That’s what we’re here for. You went and … Continue reading →

The door opened in front of him, and Cannon tensed. Kopeikin stormed through, slammed the door closed, and looked to his left, down the hallway toward the washroom. Cannon flicked the cork out of his vial of chloroform, covered his … Continue reading →

Kopeikin’s eyes narrowed. Volkov said, “Go into hallway, turn left. Is second door on your right.” Cannon excused himself and stood. The vial of chloroform in his jacket pocket bounced against his side. He left the room, closed the door … Continue reading →

By the time they pushed away their plates, the clock read 7:20. Cannon kept his poker face on as they moved to the sitting room. Half of it was given over to plush red chairs and a sofa, arranged around … Continue reading →

Two weeks ago, if someone had told him he would be growing fond of Russian food, Cannon would have been dubious. Beets, cabbage, and excruciating poverty were hardly his favorite ingredients. The chefs aboard made passable food in the Western … Continue reading →

 There were four place settings, done in fine white china with blue patterns. A merry bubbling sound came from the samovar standing at the center of the table; a teapot waited next to it. Kopeikin was already seated, reading … Continue reading →