Joshua`s Hammer Read Online Free PDF

desperation, and in his present state it took Trumble a second before he realized that it -was Daniel.
    He scrambled back around the front of the car to the other side just as a second man came down the row. He was dark, probably Arab, Trumble thought. The man suddenly crouched down and opened fire with the Kalashnikov, cutting Danny's cries off. None of this was happening. It was all some sort of a terribly bad joke, yet he knew it wasn't so.
    The gunman started to swivel around as Trumble leaped
    up and swung the heavy plastic shopping bag with Danny's snow globes, connecting solidly with a satisfying thump on the side of the man's head. The bag broke open sending the glass globes flying. The gunman's head cracked open like a soft-boiled egg in a spray of blood, and he was slammed forcefully against the side of the other car, dropping his rifle and collapsing in a heap.
    Daniel was down on his back and not moving between the parked cars. The front of his tee shirt was bright red, and a shockingly large pool of blood was spreading out on the pavement. Up the row Trumble could see the bodies of his wife and daughter, and still it made no sense to him. For a heartbeat he was torn between going to them, who he knew without a doubt were dead, or picking up the Kalashnikov and going after the monsters who had done this to his family; now after they had finally begun to work things out.
    He turned to the downed gunman as another man ran up from the van, raising his rifle as he came. Trumble knew with utter finality that he had lost, but still he made a try for the rifle lying on the pavement. Something like a freight train slammed into his chest, and an instant later a billion stars burst inside his head as a 7.62mm standard Russian military round plowed through his forehead into his brain.
    CHAPTER THREE
    Georgetown
    Jake's was a glittering restaurant that had just reopened after a terrorist bomb had destroyed it last year, and the al fresco dining area fronting busy Canal Street was even better than before with firstclass
    food, an extensive wine list and French waiters. It was Kathleen who insisted that they have an early dinner here before the symphony at the Kennedy Center, and sitting across from her, McGarvey, ruggedly handsome in his tuxedo, could only marvel at his fantastic good fortune. They had divorced twenty years ago because she could not stand being married to a CIA case officer, but they had finally realized that they could no longer live apart because they loved each other. Being here tonight was going to be a closure, and he hoped a beginning, for both of them. He wanted this to work with everything in his being; and maybe he even needed it for his sanity.
    Watching her as the waiter poured their wine, his chest swelled. At fifty she was more beautiful in his eyes than she'd ever been. She wore a black, off-the-shoulder Given chy evening dress, a string of pearls around her long, delicately formed neck, her blond hair up in back, and the cheap diamond tennis bracelet he'd given her for their first Christmas on her left wrist. On her it looked as if it had come from Tiffany's. She was aristocratic, and when they'd come in everyone had looked at her.
    She smiled and raised her glass. "You look gorgeous tonight, Kirk. I think I like you dressed up like this."
    He laughed and raised his glass. "That was supposed to be my line. You're beautiful."
    She sipped her pi not grig io then looked at the traffic on the street. McGarvey's car and bodyguard were parked down the block. It was just 6:00 P.M." and still light out, and warm, but she shivered. "I hope you don't mind coming back here."
    He put his glass down. "Are you okay, Katy?" He knew exactly what she was thinking, and why she'd wanted to come here. She was trying to erase at least a part of his violent past, which of course was impossible, but maybe being here with him, safe, secure, would help ease some of her fears.
    She turned back, a serious expression on her