Excerpt
Part 1
Blood Sport

Chapter 1
Native American in Exile

Dr. Nova Orlovic hurled her morning coffee at the image of President Lincoln Todd.

“Linc, you lying son of a bitch!”

Watching her cup bounce off the flat screen, Lord Frederick Wise thought it fortunate it was only paper, as well as empty. Nova was part Cheyenne; hence, often called the Chief. And he feared the Chief was ready to go on the warpath.

On the monitor inside Nova’s guest room, Anglo Broadcast News, ABN-Middle East, was replaying Washington Headline Beat. Lincoln Todd, with wavy charcoal hair, gray eyes glistening from tears, finished his comments.

“And it deeply saddens me to hear this disturbing news about the widow of a great American patriot, Admiral Connor Quinn. Especially when it comes on the heels of her heroic rescue in Karykistan by our good friends, the Brits.”

The camera cut to Megan Carter, an attractive blonde anchor. “That was President Todd’s statement when he learned of the indictment of Admiral Quinn’s widow, Dr. Nova Orlovic.

“Eleven years ago, Dr. Orlovic’s first husband, Dr. Yakov Pasternak, was brutally stabbed to death inside his Pasadena home. Since then, his wife has been the prime suspect. In light of these findings by a California grand jury, we will be covering this case in depth.”

“You betcha, Megan.” Nova pressed the off button on the remote, watching the blonde disintegrate into the blackness of the screen. “You and everyone else in the media. You’ll destroy me, just like all the other women you call Todd’s Twits.”

“I say, the timing of your indictment is most peculiar.” Wise squinted at her.

“You think?” Nova, in a black caftan, crossed her arms, looking back at her confidant in khakis.

Wise opened up his hands. “But thank God you’re safe, here, inside the British consulate.”

“Oh, yeah.” Nova rolled her brown eyes. “But Linc can’t easily do me in, here, in the Kingdom of Pisgah. So he does the next best thing. Unleashes his character assassins.”

“Chin up, Doctor.” Wise smiled when she raised her head. “I’ve received word that you’ve been granted political asylum and are under the protection of the Crown.”

“Yet if I step one foot on American soil, I’ll be arrested. For murder.”
Wise twitched his trim brown mustache. “No doubt your president has thought of that too. And how fortunate for him. It keeps you out of the United States…at least until after the elections.”

Nova balled her left hand into a fist; her right hand was bandaged. “But I’ll be damned if that son of a bitch runs me out of my country.”

“Pardon me, Doctor.” Wise looked at his watch. “Captain Davis…he’s invited me to this morning’s briefing.”

“He led the SAS that rescued me, right?”

“Indeed. And that reminds me of a story when I was in Her Majesty’s service—”

“Your briefing, Fred?”

“Right. The story can wait. But Captain Davis can’t.” Wise moved to the door. “Meanwhile don’t do anything rash like—”

“Kill myself?”

“The Commander did tell me he was quite worried about you in the desert while you were looking for the Admiral.”

“Don’t worry about me, Fred. I won’t give Linc the satisfaction of killing myself.”

“At least have Pastor Cameron come sit with you.”

“I’ll be fine.” Nova pulled out her gold cross necklace from under her caftan, then looked at Wise. “Today’s not a good day to die. Actually, it’s a good day to live.”