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
The dinner rush was just beginning as they left. They navigated upstream toward the lounge, finding it nearly deserted, and went to the forward end of the room. There, Cannon knocked on Volkov’s door. “One moment!” the Russian shouted. … Continue reading
They returned to the Red Banner and went aboard. The steward checking their tickets at the top of the ramp threatened to confiscate their vodka, extracting from them the usual bribe. They stopped by their cabin to leave their souvenir … Continue reading
“Are ye sure you’re aye a pirate?” Iseabail groused. “Pardon?” “Tha’, too. When ye broke me out of jail, I thought there’d be less apologizin’. And tha’ I’d aye get tae be meaner.” Cannon turned down another broad, tree-lined avenue. … Continue reading
“Ach, fresh air.” Iseabail threw her head back and breathed in deeply. Cannon could hardly disagree. Honolulu was not an infrequent port of call for the Long Nines, and if any of his crew didn’t like the place, he didn’t … Continue reading
Dinner wore on through the evening. The conversation turned to the topic of archeology. Cannon, though he hadn’t been back to the Subcontinent after stealing Inconstant in late ’25, nevertheless remembered enough about the place to invent a series of … Continue reading
