Peak Oil Read Online Free PDF

in the hall, shaking hands and smiling as he went.
    Anderson Fitch felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He fumbled for it and snapped it open as he walked to a quiet corner, cupping his hand over the microphone.
    “Yes, what is it?” he whispered into the phone. “I’m in the middle of something important right now.” He looked back and smiled at the people sting at his table.
    The caller sounded apologetic. “Hi, boss. We got a couple of sniffer dogs down here.”
    Andy Fitch took off his black Stetson and scratched his head. “What are they looking for?”
    “The Frenchies. I told you we should have let them be. They didn’t have a clue.”
    Fitch clenched his jaw. “You don’t know shit. For heaven’s sake, Pete, I pay a crapload of money to keep that pile of shit of a bar afloat, and you can’t handle a couple of freakin’ snoopers?”  
    “Sorry, boss.”
    Fitch shook his head. He thought for a moment and shrugged. “Okay, get Chris to sort them out. No mess, I want a clean job.”
    “You got it, boss.”  
    He disconnected the call, turned around, and ambled back to his table with a forced smile.

CHAPTER TWO

Alexa lay flat on her back on the cool cement floor, her jacket rolled up beneath her head. Apparently prisoners weren’t afforded the luxury of air conditioners in the holding cells. It didn’t matter to her; she was used to hot, confined spaces. Her living quarters in the French Foreign Legion had barely been large enough for a bed.
    Bis Latorre and Reg Voelkner had been drafted into the legion with her. She had been promoted to captain, and she had chosen them to serve with her on her first mission. They had gotten her out of a couple of sticky situations.  
    Laiveaux probably felt he owed it to the two of them to give them their own investigation. Laiveaux was overprotective of her, being best friends with her dad. Now that Neil was with her, they probably felt more comfortable that Voelkner and Latorre weren’t always around as her semipermanent bodyguards. Not that she needed Neil’s protection either; she was a big girl now, and she could take care of herself.  
    She smiled as she recalled a vivid memory of herself beating Neil up in an explosion of fury. She felt embarrassed. He was still pissed about the stupid misunderstanding.  
    She had suspected that he had double-crossed her, so she had slipped some Rohypnol into his drink. After he passed out, she had taken him to an abandoned hangar at an airfield where she stripped him naked and hoisted him to a ceiling beam. She tried to beat the truth out of him. The only problem was that he hadn’t been lying. Once Neil had explained himself, she realized that he was innocent, but she had left him with a broken rib and a bruised ego.  
    She closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wander. Neil was cute. He reminded her of her adoptive father, Bruce, in many ways. He was kind of shy, but he was always there when she needed him. He had saved her life, taking bullets that were meant for her. And he was passionate about finding out the truth, righting wrongs. No shaded hues of honesty existed to him; he was a black-or-white kind of a guy. And she had a feeling that he was falling in love with her.
    But he was like her dad, for God’s sake. She had always imagined falling for the rugged, tough, cowboy type. Helping him herd the cattle and taking baths in drinking troughs. Yee-hah!
    A man in the cell next to her stopped snoring and sat up groggily. He stretched out, yawned, and wiped the grit from his eyes. He blinked and then glanced at Alexa in surprise. The day-old stubble on his face made a rasping noise as he scratched his chin. He smiled at Alexa and then stuck his arm through the bars. “Give daddy a kiss, then.” He stank of old beer and stale smoke.
    Alexa stood up and approached the man, pouting her lips. His eyes widened and she could see his foggy mind trying to discern the difference between alcohol-induced dream and