The Faded Shield
Chapter One "Put the ice in the back, Salvador, the magistrate likes his gin cold and his conscience colder," the butler hissed, sliding a tray across the mahogany bar of the airport hotel, the air heavy with stale perfume and expensive anxiety. Salvador Quintero, thirty-four years old and wearing a suit that cost more than his father’s annual salary, watched the gale outside tear at the...
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