The Pretender's Gambit

The Pretender's Gambit
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With one small chess piece, the game begins…For archaeologist and TV host Annja Creed, a late-night phone call from the NYPD means one thing: there's been a murder and the police need her expertise. The only link between a dead body and the killer is a small elephant of white jade. An artifact that's gone missing.Once belonging to Catherine the Great of Russia, the elephant was key in a risky political gambit all those years ago. But there is another story attached to the artifact–a rumor of an ancient hidden treasure. And for a cruelly ambitious media mogul with a penchant for tomb-raiding, the elephant is nothing short of priceless.Annja must make her move quickly, traveling across several continents with only the assistance of her extraordinary sword–purportedly the same sword wielded by Joan of Arc–and a mysterious temple monk. It's a deadly battle of wits, and one wrong move could mean game over.

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With one small chess piece, the game begins…

For archaeologist and TV host Annja Creed, a late-night phone call from the NYPD means one thing: there’s been a murder and the police need her expertise. The only link between a dead body and the killer is a small elephant of white jade. An artifact that’s gone missing.

Once belonging to Catherine the Great of Russia, the elephant was key in a risky political gambit all those years ago. But there is another story attached to the artifact—a rumor of an ancient hidden treasure. And for a cruelly ambitious media mogul with a penchant for tomb-raiding, the elephant is nothing short of priceless.

Annja must make her move quickly, traveling across several continents with only the assistance of her extraordinary sword—purportedly the same sword wielded by Joan of Arc—and a mysterious temple monk. It’s a deadly battle of wits, and one wrong move could mean game over.

“Reminds you of old days in Russia, nyet?” Serov smiled at Klykov.

“Reminds me more of East Germany when we were thwarting the Stasi.” Klykov grinned, animated and excited. Their English had regressed during the chaos. “Look at you with your grandfather’s gun. Already having to reload. You should have one of these.” He shook his Beretta proudly. “Would be better to have two.”

“Is better to only have six rounds. Counting so many as in your guns, I sometimes forget.” Serov snapped the cylinder closed with a flick of his wrist. “Is not good to forget count and run out of bullets at wrong time.”

“They say math keeps the mind sharp.”

“Until it is blown out of your head.”

Annja started to move, but Klykov restrained her. In the next moment, another wave of gunfire tore through the apartment wall.

“I wish I had grenade.” Serov said in a low voice. “Grenade would make this thing so much simpler.”

“Grenade would mean Annja could not question Onoprienko about the elephant,” Klykov countered.

Serov nodded. “We must not let that happen. Others may get the wrong impression because we look weak.”

Look weak? Annja didn’t even have a response to that. The old Russian gangsters had already killed a handful of men and somehow dodged hundreds of bullets. She stayed low with both hands locked on her pistol.

It was a massacre, and Annja was in the middle of it.

The Pretender’s Gambit

Rogue Angel

Alex Archer



Amchitka, Rat Islands

Aleutian Island, Russian Empire 1784

A death scream woke Hidari Kaneko in his cold bed and filled him with fear. It’s begun. They have attacked. Now we will all die.

For a moment he clung desperately to the hope that he had only had a nightmare summoned by the ill luck that had plagued the crew of Shinsho-maru since the ship had sunk in the freezing water of the Bering Sea months ago. He had been the ship’s pilot, charting the course until that had become impossible due to the storm and the damage done to the vessel.

Fifteen Japanese crewmen had survived the storm at Enshu and seven months of drifting helplessly till they reached the Aleutian Islands and the Russian Empire located on Amchitka. The spit of land was part of the Rat Islands that hung like a skeletal finger crooked at the Bering Sea in the freezing north of the land called Alaska.

At least, the five Russians who manned the trading post there claimed to be an empire. The Russians were all big men, noisy and loud and boastful, and the Japanese sailors did not fit in well with them. Still, the ship’s crew weathered the winter at the Russian outpost, and they persevered in the hope that a trade ship would soon drop anchor there and agree to take them away from the barren landscape.

However, the fur trade in the Aleutian Islands had dropped off miserably. Ships seldom made landings at Amchitka these days, which was why there were only five Russians occupying the fort now. That decrease in trade had angered the native people, too. They had agreed to allow the foreigners to stay there in return for trade, for the tobacco, iron and other goods they so enjoyed. In the past few days, that anger had escalated to near violence, and Kaneko doubted the Russians could stand against the Aleuts. Five men against hundreds of Aleut warriors were impossible odds.

Only that morning, Nezimov, the leader of the Russians, had ordered the execution of the Aleut chief’s daughter because he felt she did not try to support his position. Nezimov had earlier taken the young woman as his lover as part of the trade pact. Kaneko had only known the cruelty of sea before witnessing the callous murder, but he had been little more than a boy when he’d shipped out so there was still yet much he had not seen. He had not believed Nezimov would go through with the deed until the young woman lay dead, her life’s blood pouring over the frozen ground.



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