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CIA Chief James McKnight has three problems - Amnesia, the Mafia and his addiction to the Ultimate Woman
McKnight woke up in a small Colombian Village in the middle of a drug raid with no memory. Returning to Washington D.C. things get worse as he finds out the Mafia has a contract out on his life.
His only solace in this deadly game of cat and mouse is Carla, the woman he is living with, though he can't remember her. She is the most beautiful and erotic woman that McKnight could imagine. He has the feeling that he knew her from someplace else, but can't quite remember. With his life in danger, can he trust her? Can he trust the CIA? Perhaps his bizarre dreams hold the answer.
The jungles of Colombia, the monuments of Washington D.C., the gambling tables of Atlantic City all have dangers awaiting him. Can he solve the puzzle? Can he outwit his adversaries? Can he survive to win the voluptuous Carla or will she be his Doom.
"Maybe you're part of what's been happening to me, all of which is bad. Maybe you made a hone call when I left here. A phone call to get me killed."
"What a stupid thing to say to the women who's been climbing in and out of your bed for the last six months." Carla could see a decision coming on McKnight's face. "What?" was all that could come out of here mouth now because she became aware of something she had forgotten about when her temper was flaring. The gun in McKnight's hand. And he now looked like he was thinking about using it.
McKnight took a deep breath. "I might be paranoid. I'll give you that. But on thing's for certain. One, somebody wants me dead. Two,somebody tipped off that killer, told him I was going to the mall. He hesitated, hoping Carla would ask him what the third thing was. But she stood there silent, contemplating the gun in his hand.