Ink Magic – Michael Roberts

No one stopped them or questioned why they were there. Moving along and around the trains, they found the train Angel had seen. The first passenger car was painted a deep red with white stripes. A squat smokestack protruded out the top of the car, telling the world that Stalin had his own stove or wood-burning heater to keep his car warm. He wasn’t keeping a low profile – storm or no storm, guards stood outside and around his train.

Sara sent Angel out again to see if she could spot Stalin. With Angel’s keen eyesight, the bird didn’t need to get too close. She landed on a telegraph pole and surveyed the train. Most of the fancy red velvet curtains were closed, but two of the middle ones were open a few inches as if they had been moved when someone looked out.

Angel focused on that gap. She spotted Stalin striding across his car in a thick white robe, with a glass of clear liquid in one hand and a pipe in the other. In a flurry of wings and snow, she launched off the pole and back to Sara to report what she’d seen.

Jack ruminated on this information. “Okay. I’ll cause a distraction. Sergeant Stone will go for the journal, while Ms. Beck and Mr. Tesla go back to the truck and make ready to drive away like the Devil himself is after us.” “I should go with Max,” Nikola protested. “I know what the book looks like.” “Fine,” Jack said with a huff, exhausted. “Max and Mr. Tesla will go get the journal.

But Ms. Beck, I need you in the truck to pick us up.” “Very well, Lieutenant, but call me Sara, please,” Sara said with a smile and held her hand to Jack. “Sara,” Jack repeated her name. “Please call me Jack.” Max coughed into his hand, getting their attention and making the moment awkward. “Sorry to break this tender moment up, but we should get going before Stalin puts his coat back on, assuming the book is still in his coat.”

“Get to the truck.” Jack pointed to Sara, then turned to Sergeant Stone.

Interior Images licensed by Canva Cover images licensed by deposit photos All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, distribution, or electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book, other than for review purposes, prior authorization from the author must be obtained.

Copies of this text can be made for personal use only. No mass distribution of copies of this text is permitted. This book is a work of fiction. Names, dates, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used factiously. Any similarity or resemblance to any person living or dead, place, or event is purely coincidental. OceanofPDF.com DEDICATED TO MY LOVING wife, Michelle. You are my muse and inspiration. Thank you for putting up with me. OceanofPDF.com Preface Prologue 1. Jack 2. Nikola 3. Max 4. Jack 5.

Jack 6. Sara 7. Reginald 8. Nikola 9. Jack 10. Sara Contents 11. Reginald 12. Nikola 13. Max 14. Reginald 15. Jack 16. Sara 17. Reginald 18. Jack 19. Reginald 20. The Gang of Four 21. Charles Browning 22. Alexander 23. Jack 24. Reginald 25. Jack 26. The Gathering of Eight 27. Max 28. Max 29. Alexander 30. Jack 31. Max 32. Amala Excerpt from Second Chance About The Author Also By Michael OceanofPDF.com “THERE’S A FLAME OF magic inside every stone & every flower, every bird that sings & every frog that croaks.

There’s magic in the trees & the hills & the river & the rocks, in the sea & the stars & the wind, a deep, wild magic that’s as old as the world itself. It’s in you too, my darling girl, and in me, and in every living creature, be it ever so small. Even the dirt I’m sweeping up now is stardust. In fact, all of us are made from the stuff of stars.”

– Kate Forsyth OceanofPDF.com Preface 1894 NEPAL, NORTH OF Kathmandu (Twenty-Four Years Ago) Reginald Hooker was, without a doubt, a pioneer in the application of mathematics, correlation analysis, economics, and agricultural meteorology. What he was not was a world-renowned explorer. In fact, he had never explored anything in his life outside of new ideas, theories, and the chalkboard back home in his Cambridge office.

It was fair to say that no one was more surprised than Reginald that he was walking knee-deep in thick, hard-packed snow in the Himalayas. Reginald guessed that he and his guides were somewhere over eighteen thousand feet above sea level, one hundred miles northwest of Kathmandu, Nepal, on the southern side of a mountain named Manaslu. At almost twenty-eight thousand feet high, Manaslu was the eighth-highest mountain in the world, although they had no intention of going to the top or past twenty thousand feet.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

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• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 493
• Language: English (en)

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