Chicago Assault

Cover Chicago Assault
Genres: Fiction
O’Neil said, smiling, seeing the stunned look on Hawker’s face. “I want you to meet my best friend.”
Hawker took her hand. It was firm and dry and communicated nothing. “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Hawker,” she said. “Jimmy has already told me a great deal about you.” Her alto voice seemed more musical for the Irish accent.
“James,” he said. “My father was Mr. Hawker.”
She smiled. “Yes, and I’ve heard about your father, too. And a good Fenian he was, I might add. His last raid on Belfast’s Or
...ange Order has become almost legendary.”
There was something in the tone of her voice that told Hawker she was chiding him for his own abandonment of the IRA cause.
“My father’s dead,” he said simply. “Beaten to death by robbers. American robbers.”
He closed the topic by turning away from her. Even so, the image of her refused to leave his mind.
Megan Parnell had long, autumn red hair that hung in a braided rope to the small of her back. Though she was obviously in her late twenties or early thirties, she had the face of a teenage cover girl.
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