The Spy Who Loved Me – Excerpt No. 33

4 October 2026

He grabbed the weapon, and sprayed the other gunfire until he quit moving. After counting down from three he grabbed four mags, and inserted a fresh clip into his pistol.

“Ho. Ho. Ho. Now I have a machine gun,” Smythe whispered.

He exited out the galley’s door and caught two more combatants moving down the hall. Now that they knew where he was, the situation meant that he kept moving, and he knew precisely where to go.

A man in a dark overcoat, white shirt, black tie, and black gloves crouches in a concrete corridor, holding an assault rifle across his knee. He looks toward the camera with a small wry smile. Dark wavy hair, composed face. In the background a wounded tactical operator crawls across the wet floor. Another downed combatant in tactical gear lies at the bottom of the frame. Steam hangs against the grey walls. The image is a square photograph with an aged cream border.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.