By Frederick Forsyth
A tender American reduction volunteer, Ricky Colenso, is brutally murdered in former Yugoslavia. His grandfather, the Canadian billionaire Steven Edmond, is bent on revenge. the search to discover Ricky's assassin leads Edmond to Cal Dexter, ex-Vietnam designated Forces, the only guy who might convey the killer to justice. yet what starts off as a private, family tragedy quickly explodes right into a terrifying drama at the centre level of worldwide terrorism. From the battlefield of Vietnam through war-torn Serbia to the jungles of crucial the US, "Avenger" is filled with riveting element, breathtaking motion and political suspense, whereas in Cal Dexter we meet an unforgettable hero within the so much dynamic Forsyth culture.
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Additional info for Avenger
Sorry about that,’ said Prudell. ’ said Charlie. ’ Charlie picked up the line, going out past Hickley and back along the corridor. Inside his cell he looked down, disgustedly, at his stained trousers. Maybe it wouldn’t last long, he thought hopefully. Then again, it might. Hickley had lost face and in a place as miniscule and insular as a prison that was something that grew out of all proportion. Knowing he would have to avoid any infraction of the regulations, Charlie was ready at the first sound of the washroom bell but inside the ablutions he hung back, waiting for the shaving area he wanted, abutting the wall so that he only had to worry about one side and that in constant reflection.
Asked Harkness. Wilson shook his head. ‘There are two characters in it, Medvedenko and Masha,’ reminded the deputy. ” And Masha replies “I’m in mourning for my life. ”’ ‘Maybe that’ll be appropriate,’ agreed Wilson. Chapter Four It was a tenet of his early training always to remain objective, irrespective of whatever stress or pressure, because the ability to consider everything objectively was essential for that absolute necessity, survival. Within a month of Sampson’s arrival Charlie decided, with that long practised objectivity, that the man was bloody good at making the world rotate in exactly the direction in which he decreed it should turn.
He was making it worse for himself on the landing, but he didn’t give a fuck: things couldn’t be much worse than they already were. Twelve years, eight months, one week and one day. Dear God! ‘I’m not convinced,’ announced Armitrage. One way or the other, guessed Charlie. ‘Don’t know anything about it, sir,’ he repeated. Armitrage sighed, looking aimlessly around his desk. The office was in the highest block of the prison and the windows weren’t barred. Charlie could see the barbed wire topped walls and then the White City beyond.