By Stuart Woods
Stone Barrington enters the cutthroat fray of politics within the unprecedented new mystery from ny Times--bestselling writer Stuart Woods.
When Stone Barrington travels to l. a. for the largest political conference of the 12 months, he unearths the scene really shaken up: a blinding newcomer—and shut buddy of Stone’s—has given the delegates an unforeseen selection, the most important alliances are made and damaged at the back of closed doorways, and it appears multiple seat will be up for grabs. And amid the formidable schemers and hangers-on are a number of those who may perhaps use the chaotic occasions as disguise for extra sinister plans. . . .
In this milieu of glad-handing and backroom offers, purely the canniest participant can pop out on best . . . and it'll take all of Stone’s discretion and powers of persuasion to rearrange a fascinating final result.
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Additional resources for Cut and Thrust (Stone Barrington, Book 30)
Voar's plucked a medical laser and power scalpel from their rack on the autosurgeon, a miniature field of disruptive energy flickering around the scalpel blade. Voar had been a commander of the Adeptus Mechanicus forces in the field for a long time, too long, perhaps. The purity of pursuing knowledge in this way, information for its own sake and not as a means to a military end, was like a drug that focused his mind. There was no limit to what a magos could achieve with that focus and the blessing of the Omnissiah upon him.
Vionel slipped through the next layer, and its anger hit him like a tidal wave. It was hot and vibrant, a shocking, terrible mass of emotion to come from a machine-spirit that had been so quiet for so long. Vionel had known it previously only as a chained storm, its power the potential energy of its great intellect and Ben Counter «Hellforged» knowledge contained in the metal shell of the Ferrous. Now it was open and raw, all its centuries of existence powering its fury, and its pain. Waves of pure agony hammered off it.
That puts them within a few days of Astelok,' said the jowly, powerfully built Damask, a general of the army, who had ridden with the cavalry in the wars that had been fought decades ago between Astelok and her fellow city-states of Raevenia. ' asked Dyrmida. 'The Lovinian Principalities? ' 'I see,' said Dyrmida. 'Then the last of Raevenia's cities have fallen. We are alone. ' A few of the less tactful generals exchanged looks. 'Do not pretend,' said Dyrmida, 'that we have not known this all along.