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Seven Minutes in Belfast: Blackwell Ops
Seven Minutes in Belfast: Blackwell Ops
Seven Minutes in Belfast: Blackwell Ops
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Seven Minutes in Belfast: Blackwell Ops

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Blackwell Ops operative Henry Gordon has one day left on R&R in Belfast. Then his VaporStream device goes off. Who will the target be this time? Death is certain, but for whom?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 1, 2019
ISBN9781393455813
Seven Minutes in Belfast: Blackwell Ops
Author

Harvey Stanbrough

Harvey Stanbrough is an award winning writer and poet who was born in New Mexico, seasoned in Texas, and baked in Arizona. Twenty-one years after graduating from high school in the metropolis of Tatum New Mexico, he matriculated again, this time from a Civilian-Life Appreciation Course (CLAC) in the US Marine Corps. He follows Heinlein’s Rules avidly and most often may be found Writing Off Into the Dark. Harvey has written and published 36 novels, 7 novellas. almost 200 short stories and the attendant collections. He's also written and published 16 nonfiction how-to books on writing. More than almost anything else, he hopes you will enjoy his stories.

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    Book preview

    Seven Minutes in Belfast - Harvey Stanbrough

    Seven Minutes in Belfast

    Chapter 1

    As he moved along the sidewalk, Henry Gordon clenched the collar of his coat tightly against the icy drizzle in the Belfast night. His right hand, shoved deep into his coat pocket, gripped a 9mm Beretta pistol. The front of his fedora was pulled down grimly, the ice pellets tapping a rapid rhythm against it.

    Only a few others were out this late at night, mostly men, all only shadows in the darkness between the rain-streaked cones of light at the streetlamps. All were moving in the opposite direction, their shoulders hunched against the freezing rain under hats or caps, mufflers around their necks, and their hands in the pockets of their coats.

    Henry pressed on through his visible breath, his head down. He focused on the sidewalk a few steps ahead. It wouldn’t do to be surprised by a patch of ice, maybe turn an ankle or wrench his back. Besides, he knew his destination. He’d walked the route three times in as many days, always at night. Each time the walk took seven minutes. Each time his target exited the hotel restaurant, always right on time.

    As Henry approached the first corner, a pedestrian, shoulders hunched and

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