Good As Gone (Simon Fisk Novels)
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From acclaimed writer Douglas Corleone comes this heart-pounding tale of international intrigue about a man whose mission is to find a young girl who is as GOOD AS GONE…
Former U.S. Marshal Simon Fisk now works as a private contractor, tracking down and recovering children who were kidnapped by their own estranged parents. He only has one rule: He won't touch stranger abduction cases. He's still haunted by the disappearance of his own daughter years ago when she was just a child, still unsolved, and stranger kidnappings hit too close to home.
"Leaves the reader gasping for breath."―Huffington Post
Until, that is, six-year-old Lindsay Sorkin disappears from her parents' hotel room in Paris, and the French police deliver Simon an ultimatum: He can spend years in a French jail for his actions during a long-ago case, or he can work with them now to find Lindsay. With renewed vigor, Simon sets out in pursuit of the missing child and the truth behind her disappearance. But Lindsay's captors did not leave an easy trail―and following it will lead Simon across the continent, through the ritziest nightclubs and the seediest back alleys, and into the darkest, most terrifying place of all: His own past.
"The story doesn't let up, period."―Booklist (starred review)
through the aluminum cans and paper scraps. Nothing of use. I searched the desk. Room-service menus, entertainment brochures, television guides, but nothing that Dietrich and Karl had left behind. Same with the nightstands. I opened the drawers, all of them. Nothing but a Bible and more cigarette butts. I got onto my knees and checked under the bed. More beer cans. The closets were empty except for the hotel hangers. They’d probably stolen the bathrobes. I flipped the light on in the bathroom.
front of the train. I followed. As I got nearer I noticed he had a small pack swung over his right shoulder. I picked up my pace in order to catch up to him. I’m being paranoid. I’ve had too little sleep. He’s just a kid backpacking through eastern Europe. Probably heading to a hostel in Kiev for six bucks a night. All he can afford. That’s why he was peeking into our compartment. He’s staying in fourth class. He was simply looking for a place to crash. I wasn’t convinced. My feet were
the proper background story, I think it could work. These children do not care about their own lives—they have had those stolen from them. But it is far more difficult for criminals to steal empathy. Children have a natural inclination to protect other children. I have witnessed this consistently during my decade as a criminal lawyer.” Rudnyk and Kidman disagreed that this was the precision instrument that was called for. For the record, they refused to sanction our operation and insisted that
fine, Lieutenant. Question is, how is Lori doing?” “Better, I think. Her breakdown appears to be more mental than physical. She is still in hospital under observation. I visit every few hours. I am the only person she will see.” I frowned. “What about her husband?” “They had a terrible fight. I don’t know all the details but it seems she is now blaming Vince for everything.” I wondered if Lori had come to the same conclusion I had—that Vince was most likely the motive behind Lindsay’s
all in green surgical gear, stepped away from the tables, unarmed, their hands slightly raised in the air in surrender. Until that moment I hadn’t even realized I was holding the gun on them. One man stood between the two tables, arms down at his sides. He pressed his glasses higher up his nose, lowered his surgical mask, and removed the green cap from his head, revealing a mess of curly salt-and-pepper hair. “Hello, Simon,” he said in perfect English. I stared down at the steel table holding