Novels by andshi

"Fifty-one percent," the Red Queen said, her voice dropping into the silent boardroom like a drop of mercury. "You built a golden throne, Galen. I just bought the crown."Galen didn't move. He stood behind the chief executive chair, his broad shoulders squared, his dark eyes locked on the woman in white.Beside him, Nurin didn't even draw her weapon. She leaned against the mahogany table, her dark eyes scanning the glowing crimson legal document projected in the air.

"00:01...""Nurin, thumb!" Galen roared.He didn't shoot the glass cylinder. He slammed his right palm onto the silver pedestal's biometric interface, dragging Nurin’s hand down beside his.The dark red vial pulsed violently once. The crimson display flickered, hit zero, and suddenly turned a cool, icy blue.

The blinding purple arc of the signal jammer hissed against the slate floor, filling the shattered bedroom with the acrid stench of scorched stone and ozone.Galen stepped in front of Nurin, his weapon leveled at the fractured terrace glass. Outside, the deafening roar of tactical rotors beat the mist into a violent, swirling tempest. Searchlights swept through the broken frame, pinning Galen in a harsh, blinding glare."Drop the weapon!" a voice boomed over a loudspeaker from the lead gunship. "Perimeter secured!"

"The silence is loud," Nurin said.She stood at the edge of the floor-to-ceiling glass panel overlooking the misty valley of the private Lombok estate. The roaring tide three hundred feet below was the only sound for miles."You're reaching for your sidearm," Galen observed.His deep baritone voice carried smoothly through the slate-and-cedar room. He leaned against the marble kitchen i

The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the newly reinforced reinforced glass of the SCBD penthouse. Construction crews had only just cleared the debris from the upper balconies, leaving the vast executive space smelling of fresh concrete, ionized air, and expensive leather.Galen Prakoso stood by the edge of the mahogany desk, unbuttoning his blood-stained cuffs and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. His broad chest rose and fell in a slow, controlled cadence."Tariq," Galen said without looking up. "Report."

The heavy reinforced doors of the High Federal Judicial Chamber swung open with a slow, grinding hiss. Outside, a squad of tactical marshals stood at full attention, their submachine guns held at low ready across the marble corridor.Galen Prakoso adjusted the cuff of his dark suit jacket, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the polished granite floor. He glanced down at Nurin."This is the final knot," Galen said, his baritone voice a low, steady rumble.