Romans & histoires Best Russian Spy Novels

Billionaire spy is undergoing final edits. Peace out! © 2021 Salem Goodness

A code only we knew. I decrypted the file. Mission reports. Dozens of them. All dated within the last five years. All signed by Sienna. My hands shook as I scrolled through. Assassinations…data theft….blackmail operations…corporate espionage. Everything I did as Blue Ray, she'd been doing for Russio. "Jesus," I breathed. "Look at this." I showed Kayden. His expression darkened as he read. "She killed a lot of people," he said quietly.

Toby asked with an etched eyebrow, watching Yara pull out a big sized novel from the shelf and Barnes smile proudly. "Thatweird_author." she replied, holding the novel up to his eye level. A bestseller mystery- thriller, crime fiction novel with the name written boldly on it 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 -𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍. "Barnes books?" Toby asked, a smile rested on his face as Yara looked at him in perplexity.

SSHS 115 It was… anti-climatic. Normally, in novels or any media that involves spies, missions and undercovers, it was always with the non- stop and packed with action. There was always an explosion somewhere, the anxiety inducing stand- off, the witty banters between enemies and the undeniable chemistry between the leads. But now, it was all the opposite of it all. It was anti- climatic to the point that the normal things that can be seen from a spy novel are nowhere to be found in this place. Although that is what was expected by the two rookie undercover spies as they were called to the office of the Dean, all that happened is that they were informed of the progress of the mission: about

A bulky man in a leather coat and a dark red scarf stood just before him. "Moss," she greeted. Moss was a huge, busy man, he had been one of the greatest snipers, except for the eye injury that he got on his last mission, he was about to hit mandatory retirement age. Cadaver thick, with dark circles under puffy eye, bushy brows, and dyed black hair combed straight back from his face, Moss looked like the bad guy from a crime novel. Except that his personality was so formal.

I let her do most of the talking because my hands were still shaking. It wasn’t the close call with Valerie that had affected me so much. No, I’d dealt with much worse situations being a private detective. But my discovery of what The Golden Hive was actually up to made me feel sick to my stomach. How the fuck could people like Bernard and Valerie sleep at night? The roofies explained some of the girls being like zombies around here. If someone took a downer frequently enough, they lived in a perpetual state of numbness. That was how The Golden Hive liked its escorts: compliant.

"We have found out the spy that divulged our plan. We have a theory that Ivanov is involved!" Ivanov! Russian mafia, Yvan Ivanov, was their ruthless leader. We have the same age and same greedy blood thirst running through our veins. Aside from AO Gang, Yvan Ivanov was my mortal enemy for years. We were once blood brothers, but he betrayed me and the gang. I was supposed to punish him death, but I gave him exile instead. That's the biggest mistake I had ever done in my life.

For me. Taking a cigarette out of my cigarette case, I lit a cigarette, cursing Alyosha with the last words. What are spy stuff? He kept in touch with Astakhov, and it is quite possible that he was the first to contact him and tell him where we were, what he did, and then in secret from me. He calmly reacted to the appearance of Astakhov and his gang at the same time as it was not clear who was in our cottage. He calmly took Nikita and left, leaving me with the wolfhound. He correctly predicted my actions and sent Rosa to me with a list of clues that I had not even checked yet, left me a phone ...

If he was taking me to see his mistress or some secret love child, I swore I would push him off the nearest pier. But we didn't go to the docks. We moved inland, toward a part of the landscape where the industrial rot of Murmansk gave way to the raw, jagged beauty of the Tundra. We stopped by a waterfall Lenochka had mentioned once, a place where the water didn't so much fall as it shattered against the black rocks, frozen mist hanging in the air like diamonds. Yamelyan stood by the edge of the spray, staring into the rushing white water. "There was once a powerful man in Russia," he began, his voice competing with the roar of the falls. "A man who sat among the Twelve Lords of the Russian M

With a shaking voice, he blurted, “You can’t kill me. I know what I've done, but I’m willing to change. You can keep me as your rat against the Russians.” I kept my calm, despite the revelation. From the look on Nico’s face, the word Russians had mistakenly slipped out of his lips. At least now I knew he was working with the Russian Mafia, popularly known as the Bratva, and smuggling women and children. This was all part of that big fucking chain that had started twenty-four years ago. If I was right, I knew who Nico and the other rats had been working for. “A traitor’s always a fucking traitor, Nico. You would’ve said the same thing to that damned bratkis if this situation were to be revers