Hell's CornerLarge Print - 2010 | Large print edition
Before he can lead a covert mission on the orders of the President, a former CIA assassin must track down the source of a terrorist attack and navigate a shadowy world of betrayal and political secrets in this #1 New York Times bestselling thriller.
John Carr, aka Oliver Stone-once the most skilled assassin his country ever had-stands in Lafayette Park in front of the White House. Inside, the British prime minister is being honored at a state dinner. Then, just as the prime minister's motorcade leaves, a bomb explodes in the park, and in the chaotic aftermath Stone is given an urgent assignment: find those responsible.
British MI-6 agent Mary Chapman becomes his partner in the search for the unknown attackers. But their opponents are elusive, skilled, and increasingly lethal. Worst of all, the park bombing may have been only the opening salvo in their plan. With nowhere else to turn, Stone enlists the help of the only people he knows he can trust: the Camel Club.
Baker & Taylor
After a bomb detonates near the motorcade of the U.S. president and Britain's prime minister, British MI-5 agent Mary Chapman--along with the help of Oliver Stone, Harry Finn, Alex Ford and the rest of the Camel Club--investigates whether or not the bomber had a different target in mind. (Suspense). Simultaneous.
"The mysterious attackers in a seeming terrorist plot in Washington, D.C., might have another target in their sights, and if the Camel Club is unable to stop them, the results would be nothing less than catastrophic"--Provided by publisher.
After a bomb detonates near the motorcade of the U.S. president and Britain's prime minister, British MI-5 agent Mary Chapman--along with the help of Oliver Stone, Harry Finn, Alex Ford and the rest of the Camel Club--investigates whether or not the bomber had a different target in mind.
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Yet in his mind’s eye it was decades ago and Stone pulled the trigger on his custom sniper rifle, ending the life of another enemy of the United States as he walked across the street with his mistress toward the luxury hotel where they were going to have sex. His downfall had been ordering the execution of two CIA personnel in Poland. Stone had put a shot through the right eyeball at the stroke of eleven p.m. from a distance of nine hundred yards on elevated ground with a breeze from the north that had given him a few anxious moments. The mistress hadn’t even known what happened until her dead lover hit the pavement. The NYPD and local FBI, tipped off to what was going down, had never attempted to solve the case. That’s just how it was done back then. Hell, thought Stone, maybe that was how it was still done.
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