The Swan and the Jackal Read Online Free PDF

head. She is of average height and weight, but her legs truly show her age, with tiny, varicose veins running along her thick calves and ankles.
    I look to Victor again, curious myself if he’ll be staying for dinner.
    “No, I will be leaving soon,” he says to Greta. “But thank you.”
    She nods to both of us and then I dismiss her, but just before she turns and leaves, her eyes catch mine privately, giving me a look of concern I’m all too familiar with.
    She leaves the room, knowing she has made her point clear.
    Cassia has been asking for me.
    I turn to Victor.
    “Well, I have to say that you were right,” I speak up. “I didn’t think it would be as easy as it has been to take control of these black market operations.”
    Victor takes a sip of his beer and sets the bottle on the table.
    I grasp mine firmly in my fingers over the end of the chair arm.
    “Easy is too light a word,” Victor says with a small smile. “I believe I used the word do-able .”
    I return the smile, because it’s not often I ever see the statue of a man actually smile. For a long time, when I first met him, I never knew he had teeth.
    “Alright, yes, easy is putting it lightly,” I agree and take another sip. “But I’d say taking over three operations in under three months is pretty damn good.”
    Victor nods.
    “It’s been a group effort,” he says, always giving credit where credit is due. “I couldn’t have done it without the four of you.”
    Victor is being modest. I know that, yes, he could do it without us. Very easily, in fact. Without myself, or Dorian Flynn, or his brother, Niklas Fleischer, or even that redheaded spitfire of a woman of his, Izabel Seyfried, who I’ve grown rather fond of in the past year. And Victor may treat us all with respect, but I also know that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of us if it came down to it. Victor Faust is the epitome of ‘iron fist’. I don’t fear him. I fear no one. But I do respect him and I owe him my life.
    However, if he were ever to find out about Cassia, he would likely take back the life he saved by getting to me before Vonnegut did a few months ago. Vonnegut is our former employer, head of The Order, which myself, Victor and Niklas were all a part of before we went rogue.
    Now there is a heavy bounty on our heads and we’ve been laying low ever since.
    “Where are we at now?” I ask. “What are our numbers?”
    “Six black market operations are now under our control. Four in the United States. One in Mexico. And one in Sweden. All totaling one hundred thirty-three active members. Aside from what we had before obtaining them.”
    “One hundred thirty- three ?” I ask, looking at him inquiringly, cocking my head gently to one side.
    “One operative was eliminated by Niklas yesterday. He did not pass the final tests. Spilled all of the false information we gave him to Izabel.”
    “Ah, I see,” I say, tilting my head back briefly. “And how is Izabel doing in the field?”
    “She’s doing well,” Victor says, but offers me nothing more, which strikes me in a curious way.
    “It’s not my place to ask,” I say, “but is there anything to worry about?”
    Victor looks over at me. He shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he clarifies. “My brother, on the other hand, I wonder every day if I’ll get word that she has finally slit his throat.”
    I try to force my smile at bay, but it pushes its way to the surface. I shake my head and bring the bottle to my lips again just to attempt to conceal as much of the smile as I can. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Surely, you didn’t think it would.”
    Finally, I set the bottle on the table near Victor’s.
    “No, I did not,” he says with a faint hint of a smile in his voice. “I doubt they will ever get along. It doesn’t help that Niklas doesn’t know when to shut his mouth. But Izabel…,” he shakes his head with his short brown hair, as if he’s concluding in his mind