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It was 3:30 in the morning and my phone rang. It was Blackhawk.
“I need help.” His voice was raspy and weak. “I’m at the top of the hill and I’m losing blood.”
He had been hired to bodyguard a cyber genius known as Madame Scaramouche. Some bad guys wanted her for her skills. They had bad luck and they miscalculated. They shot him. I knew something they didn’t know. If you shoot Blackhawk, you better make sure he’s dead. Even if he is, you better make sure I am too.
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