Turn of the Cards (Wild Cards, Book 12)

Turn of the Cards (Wild Cards, Book 12)

George R. R. Martin, Victor Milán

Language: English

Pages: 314

ISBN: 0553561529

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Pursued by the CIA, the DEA, and the Wild Card mistress of the winds, Mistral, renegade biochemist Mark Meadows uses the three personalities buried in his psyche in order to outwit his pursuers.

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triumphant return engagement, he noticed the pilots had hopped out of their waiting Sukhois and were racing away across the plateau in their flight suits, trailing assorted hoses behind. “Smart boys,” he said, and gave their abandoned planes the for-true torch. He was halfway back down the runway, spreading hot mischief, when he noticed the Frogfoot that had waved off its landing approach banking around as if to come back. “Oh ho,” he said aloud. He’d always wanted to play chicken with a

I got the fire put out by beating it with a blanket, rolling him in it. Mostly.” He shook his head and shifted his unseeing gaze from horizon to Earth’s core. “It took an hour and a half for the chopper to get there. The base is ten minutes’ flight time from Venceremos. It took ninety minutes. “We’d given him the last of the morphine — people’ve pretty much looted out the pharmacy, but the Colonel still had a private stash in a safe in his office. Nobody messes with the Colonel — yet. The way

that was why he was still keeping the faith in the early 1990s, when all others were become stockbrokers and informers. Mark didn’t think that way. He was more inclined to wonder if he’d ever been more than a spectator to his own life. Now Mark, in desperation, was seeking the communal shelter of what remained of the counterculture. These days the kids were lean and mean, with spiked hair in exotic colors or the Wacht am Rhein butch cuts of the Greens — long hair and beards went with potbellies

knees. The stars stared him in the face, unwinking. He looked at the sky for a long time. I wonder if those three stars in a row down by the horizon are Orion’s Belt, he thought after a while. He had owned a telescope as a kid, a simple little Tasco three-inch refractor, and had been an avid amateur astronomer. But it had been a long time, and anyway he’d never quite been able to get the hang of the constellations. He wished Sprout were here to see it with him. When I get somewhere the DEA

the spring chill up here on the Iranian Plateau, beneath the lofty Elburz Mountains, set off her color to excellent advantage. Señor Burckhardt’s goons, standing right behind him and the beauteous Señorita Elena, shifting their weight and glaring suspiciously at the rag-heads in line with them, were dressed like goons. They might have come from anywhere in the West; in fact the dark, intense one could well have passed for Iranian. His partner was blond, but there are plenty of blonds in

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