The Raven Affair by Steven Nedelton (novel books to read .txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
Official Apex Reviews Rating:
Five Stars
Reviewed By Renee Washburn
"Taut, engaging, and supremely well written, The Raven Affair is a superb instant classic. With more than its fair share of break-neck action and mind-numbing suspense, author Steven Nedelton's compelling thriller is a fast-paced page turner, the literary equivalent of such silver screen jewels as the Bourne series.
The Raven Affair is a bona fide literary thrill ride guaranteed not to disappoint.
Highly recommended."
Five Stars
Reviewed By Renee Washburn
"Taut, engaging, and supremely well written, The Raven Affair is a superb instant classic. With more than its fair share of break-neck action and mind-numbing suspense, author Steven Nedelton's compelling thriller is a fast-paced page turner, the literary equivalent of such silver screen jewels as the Bourne series.
The Raven Affair is a bona fide literary thrill ride guaranteed not to disappoint.
Highly recommended."
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- Author: Steven Nedelton
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Dead, Rossi seemed to weigh a ton. The small boat swayed and rolled under them. When they finally had Rossi under the noose, with the American supporting the corpse from the back, and Dino helping from the front, Rossi released a horrible belch right into Dino’s face, followed by other unpleasant sounds. The American almost dropped the corpse on Dino, and Dino got angry.
“Asshole,” he yelled at the blond. “He’s alive, can’t you see?”
They lowered the body back into the boat and rechecked its pulse. Meanwhile, the guy on the scaffold cursed at them in Italian. “Idiots, hold him up. What are you two doing? It’s just dead man noises. You held him too tight by the stomach. Lift him up, damn you!”
They held Rossi up and this time, after a few misses and a lot of cursing, the corpse was finally hanging. But he was actually sitting in the boat; the rope was too long. They lifted the body out of the boat and Rossi sank into the river, almost half in the water—up to his shirt cuffs.
The American was dissatisfied. The rope was too long. But Dino didn’t care any more. Rossi was hanging and that was the end of his contract. All he had to do was retrieve the briefcase. But the guy above them was cursing again. He was holding something in one of his hands and the American now yelled to Dino. “What’s wrong with him now?”
The man dropped something heavy into the boat. The American almost jumped and Dino stumbled backward and sat on the seat. It was a fucking brick.
“You crazy?” he half yelled at the guy above and he pulled the Bersa out of his pocket. “You want to kill us, you bastard?”
“Sorry, sorry—friend. My orders. Put the bricks into Rossi’s pockets.”
There were a few more thumps, then the mason said that was all. Dino and the American picked up the bricks and stuffed Rossi’s coat pockets with them. The task completed, the mason untied the boat and they began floating downstream.
Dino turned to check, but Rossi was hanging just fine and dandy on his noose. A perfect suicide. The water carried him a bit to the side and his stomach stuck out, appearing from a distance like some odd looking buoy, but by morning, according to the mason, the corpse would be straight up above the water. So, that was the end. Finita la comedia.
When they reached the Mercedes, Dino asked the American if he’d let him drive back to the safe house.
“Sure. I have a little business there, too,” the American said.
For a moment, Dino wondered about this ‘business’ the American had in Rossi’s apartment. But instead of asking him, he said, “Hey, what’s your real name, anyway?”
“Mick. You can call me Mick. And what’s yours?”
“I’m Dino, Angelo’s my cover name for Rossi only. By the way, who do you work for? Secret?”
“I’ll tell you later. And you? The Brotherhood?”
Dino smiled, a bit proud of himself. “You’re close. And that leaves Mr. Mason.”
Mick looked at Dino. “Do you really need to know?”
“No, just curious.”
“I really don’t know, and maybe you don’t want to know either,” the American said.
After a few more minutes, they arrived and Dino parked next to the safe-house. They took the elevator back to Rossi’s apartment.
As soon as they got in, Dino went after the black briefcase. “This is what I need,” he said to the American now standing behind him. But why had the American come back?
As Dino turned, he saw the American pointing Rossi’s revolver at him.
“Not so fast, Signor Dino.”
“Why, what’s wrong, Mick?”
“Nothing’s wrong. That briefcase is not for you, that’s all. Now pull that little Bersa out of your pocket and drop it on the bed. Very slowly, Dino, okay?”
Dino looked at the American, who was now three or four feet away. Too close. The bastard was probably quick with the gun. There was no choice. He slowly removed the pistol from his pocket.
“Now toss it to the other end of the bed. Careful, Dino.”
The pistol landed on the opposite edge of the bed, then slid and thumped on the floor.
The American smiled. “Okay, so far so good. Now put the briefcase down, gently. No fast moves, okay?”
Dino did as ordered.
“Now go to that telephone and pull the cable out of the wall.”
Dino complied. The phone was dead.
“Undress fully. Place the clothes into that bag.” The bag was used for dirty linen.
The American walked to the closet and looked in. It was empty. “All right. Take that glass of water—slowly, slowly.” The American removed a small vial from his left coat pocket, opened it and placed four blue tablets on the edge of the bed.” Take these four pills and swallow them. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.” Then he took a thick pillow from a nearby chair and held it in front of the gun.
Dino didn’t care any more. He had a better chance with the pills than drilled with bullets. He took some water then the pills and swallowed both.
“All right. You won’t die. You’ll sleep for a while, hopefully until tomorrow. Now, get back on the bed and lay down.”
Dino was already feeling sleepy. He got into the bed and covered himself.
“I work for the Holy Church of Jesus. Don’t ever mention the briefcase to anyone. When they ask, tell your friends it was taken by the Church guy. He overpowered you, knocked you out. You hear me? Don’t play with me or I’ll have Holy Rome on you.”
Dino nodded sleepily. He watched the American come by the bed and pick up the Bersa. Then he was standing by the dirty linen bag, cleaning the guns with Rossi’s pajamas. He saw the American drop the bag down the laundry chute. Then he was at the door, the black briefcase in his right hand…”
Imprint
“Asshole,” he yelled at the blond. “He’s alive, can’t you see?”
They lowered the body back into the boat and rechecked its pulse. Meanwhile, the guy on the scaffold cursed at them in Italian. “Idiots, hold him up. What are you two doing? It’s just dead man noises. You held him too tight by the stomach. Lift him up, damn you!”
They held Rossi up and this time, after a few misses and a lot of cursing, the corpse was finally hanging. But he was actually sitting in the boat; the rope was too long. They lifted the body out of the boat and Rossi sank into the river, almost half in the water—up to his shirt cuffs.
The American was dissatisfied. The rope was too long. But Dino didn’t care any more. Rossi was hanging and that was the end of his contract. All he had to do was retrieve the briefcase. But the guy above them was cursing again. He was holding something in one of his hands and the American now yelled to Dino. “What’s wrong with him now?”
The man dropped something heavy into the boat. The American almost jumped and Dino stumbled backward and sat on the seat. It was a fucking brick.
“You crazy?” he half yelled at the guy above and he pulled the Bersa out of his pocket. “You want to kill us, you bastard?”
“Sorry, sorry—friend. My orders. Put the bricks into Rossi’s pockets.”
There were a few more thumps, then the mason said that was all. Dino and the American picked up the bricks and stuffed Rossi’s coat pockets with them. The task completed, the mason untied the boat and they began floating downstream.
Dino turned to check, but Rossi was hanging just fine and dandy on his noose. A perfect suicide. The water carried him a bit to the side and his stomach stuck out, appearing from a distance like some odd looking buoy, but by morning, according to the mason, the corpse would be straight up above the water. So, that was the end. Finita la comedia.
When they reached the Mercedes, Dino asked the American if he’d let him drive back to the safe house.
“Sure. I have a little business there, too,” the American said.
For a moment, Dino wondered about this ‘business’ the American had in Rossi’s apartment. But instead of asking him, he said, “Hey, what’s your real name, anyway?”
“Mick. You can call me Mick. And what’s yours?”
“I’m Dino, Angelo’s my cover name for Rossi only. By the way, who do you work for? Secret?”
“I’ll tell you later. And you? The Brotherhood?”
Dino smiled, a bit proud of himself. “You’re close. And that leaves Mr. Mason.”
Mick looked at Dino. “Do you really need to know?”
“No, just curious.”
“I really don’t know, and maybe you don’t want to know either,” the American said.
After a few more minutes, they arrived and Dino parked next to the safe-house. They took the elevator back to Rossi’s apartment.
As soon as they got in, Dino went after the black briefcase. “This is what I need,” he said to the American now standing behind him. But why had the American come back?
As Dino turned, he saw the American pointing Rossi’s revolver at him.
“Not so fast, Signor Dino.”
“Why, what’s wrong, Mick?”
“Nothing’s wrong. That briefcase is not for you, that’s all. Now pull that little Bersa out of your pocket and drop it on the bed. Very slowly, Dino, okay?”
Dino looked at the American, who was now three or four feet away. Too close. The bastard was probably quick with the gun. There was no choice. He slowly removed the pistol from his pocket.
“Now toss it to the other end of the bed. Careful, Dino.”
The pistol landed on the opposite edge of the bed, then slid and thumped on the floor.
The American smiled. “Okay, so far so good. Now put the briefcase down, gently. No fast moves, okay?”
Dino did as ordered.
“Now go to that telephone and pull the cable out of the wall.”
Dino complied. The phone was dead.
“Undress fully. Place the clothes into that bag.” The bag was used for dirty linen.
The American walked to the closet and looked in. It was empty. “All right. Take that glass of water—slowly, slowly.” The American removed a small vial from his left coat pocket, opened it and placed four blue tablets on the edge of the bed.” Take these four pills and swallow them. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.” Then he took a thick pillow from a nearby chair and held it in front of the gun.
Dino didn’t care any more. He had a better chance with the pills than drilled with bullets. He took some water then the pills and swallowed both.
“All right. You won’t die. You’ll sleep for a while, hopefully until tomorrow. Now, get back on the bed and lay down.”
Dino was already feeling sleepy. He got into the bed and covered himself.
“I work for the Holy Church of Jesus. Don’t ever mention the briefcase to anyone. When they ask, tell your friends it was taken by the Church guy. He overpowered you, knocked you out. You hear me? Don’t play with me or I’ll have Holy Rome on you.”
Dino nodded sleepily. He watched the American come by the bed and pick up the Bersa. Then he was standing by the dirty linen bag, cleaning the guns with Rossi’s pajamas. He saw the American drop the bag down the laundry chute. Then he was at the door, the black briefcase in his right hand…”
Imprint
Text: Steven Nedelton
Publication Date: 02-10-2012
All Rights Reserved
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