Picking Up Plans in Palma

By Matthew Quinn

Connor Kelly is running for his life.

He's on a mission to deliver a memory card containing secret orbital battle plans to the Italian consulate in Palma. But being an American spy in the Afrikaner Confederation is making success less and less likely by the second. Particularly when Connor's history of fraternization with Boer traitor Katje de Lange comes to light. 

Just when Connor thinks he will escape, he gets trapped in the clutches of Afrikaner spy Eugene Visser and the disgruntled father of Katje de Lange. Can Connor evade a sadistic enemy spy and escape from the whole of State Security? Judging by the last agent's demise, things aren't looking good. 

In "Picking Up Plans in Palma," Matthew W. Quinn envisions a world where China and the Afrikaner Confederation traded nukes in 1975. This high-octane dystopian thriller takes place in 1998 and provides a stunning snapshot into a nightmarish alternate history. 

"Picking Up Plans in Palma" is espionage at its best. Every sentence packs a powerful punch. You'll hold your breath to the very end. This tale is sure to get under your skin. And your nails. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew Quinn
• Release date: Jul 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393339618

Book preview

Palma, Delgado Staat, Afrikaner Confederation

2 PM, September 4th, 1998 AD

Connor Kelly slipped into the whites-only bathroom of Palma’s city park. The Office of Strategic Services agent who’d been in the area, before he was exposed and killed, had hidden the plans for the Rijnsburg, the Afrikaners’ newest orbital battle-station, in the third stall.

Unfortunately, the stall just had to be occupied.

An analyst in the OSS, reduced to potty police, he mused. More proof spying is not the glamorous business it is in the movies.

He did not want to linger. The building sweltered, and that was with air conditioning and more refined construction. His only comfort was that the shoddy non-white bathroom was probably even worse. An eternity passed in the pent-up heat — the nearby rectal chorus and resulting smell making it all the more unbearable — before the man finished.

Connor slipped into the stall soon as the man left. Breathing through his mouth, he knelt by the toilet and felt behind it, searching for the loose brick. Behind lay a bag of fresh almonds. Among the nuts was a small plastic case with a blue memory card inside. The bag also contained a condom, in case the card needed to be hidden more intimately. He quietly pocketed his prize.

Success!

Now he had to complete the rest of his mission. This part should be relatively simple — drop the plans off at the Italian consulate, then take the train to Jo’burg and fly home. The Afrikaner trains, lacking space-made components, didn’t ride as smoothly or quickly as American ones, but they’d get him away from the nasty bathroom all the same.

Someone stepped through the open door behind him. He hadn’t expected the other man to come back and had to improvise.

Just inspecting the brickwork, Connor explained in Afrikaans, hoping he sounded like the park official whose green uniform he wore and not the sneaky uitlander he was. Heard some complaints. He put on a big fake smile. How can I help you?

I think I lost my keys, the other man stammered. I wanted to be sure they didn’t fall out of my pocket. He reddened slightly.

Connor looked at the base of the