Sam Capra's Last Chance

by Jeff Abbott

Genres: Thrillers

Synopsis

From Jeff Abbott -- the New York Times bestselling author of ADRENALINE and THE LAST MINUTE -- comes an all new short story, available only as an eBook and audio download.

Sam Capra's infant son has been kidnapped. The shadowy, powerful organization responsible for the abduction has thwarted Sam at every turn. But now Sam, an ex-CIA agent, has a potential lead: a picture of the woman who took his child from the clinic where he was born. Finding this mysterious woman could be his last chance to save his son......

Release date: May 22, 2012

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 24

Sample

(This story takes place between the events of the novels Adrenaline and The Last Minute.)

Strasbourg, France

I ran into empty air five stories above the pavement, the edge of the building falling away under my feet, spinning, aiming backward, firing behind me as I soared over the alleyway. The bullet caught my pursuer in the shoulder; I’d missed the chest shot. And the jump between the buildings over the alleyway was maybe ten feet. I realized I’d miscalculated and I wasn’t going to complete the leap.

I dropped my suppressor-capped gun to the alleyway five stories below. I wasn’t about to drop the mobile phone I’d just stolen. That phone was the key to finding my son. I reached an arm far as I could, found a grip as I slammed into the side of the building. One-handed, I clawed a hold on the ornate stonework. I was a trained parkour runner and my hands, my legs, knew how to fight for purchase on a building’s ledge. I tucked the phone in my back pocket so I wouldn’t lose it, began to pull myself up. I glanced across the gulf.

Oh, no.

The gunman staggered to his feet, trying to steady the aim of his own gun at me while I struggled against the side of the opposite building. I’d hit his right shoulder and he was right-handed, but that wasn’t going to buy me more than a few seconds.

He can’t kill me, I thought. I have to find my son. A panic surged through me, more than fear from being shot or plummeting to unforgiving pavement. If I didn’t find Daniel, no one would. There was no one left to fight for him but me.

Resolve fueled me. I pulled my leg up onto the building’s edge, fighting for leverage, but now the easiest of targets. He’d shoot me before I could pull myself to safety. I heard laughter below, probably nice people coming into my bar down on the street level, eager to enjoy their evening, drink Alsatian Riesling and Kronenbourg beer, chat with their friends. Unaware of the drama above them.

“Throw me back that phone!” he yelled. “Or… or…”

The red dot of hi. . .