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Return to Roseburg

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In 1980 Nikolai had said, “Thank you, I owe you my life. One day, I will return.”

2021 Roseburg, Southern Oregon. As a writer he returns to fulfil his promise. Albeit a little late! 

 

A tidy modern town, not one of the buildings in the downtown area had been built before 1951. A mini “Beirut Blast”, caused by the ignition of a semi-trailer load of high explosives, touted the reason!

 

He remembered the young woman, Patti Rose. He needed to find her. He owed her. She had once saved his life.

 

But the leader of a ruthless biker gang may have other thoughts about that. He virtually lay in waiting, his sights set on killing the father of his wife’s twins!

 

Dodging hit men and bounty hunters, Nikolai  enlists the help of an old friend in Coeur d`Alene, in Idaho’s Panhandle and two young FBI Agents who turn out to be …..    

         

With billions of dollars in cash and clandestine warehouses packed with recreational opioids at stake, this powerful love story/thriller will have you intrigued, wondering at times if it could be true. It sets the scene for a series of adventures in the future…if Nikolai survives this one that is…and there is only one person who can prove or disprove that he had been intimate with the twins’ mother …

 

WHEN THE PACE SLOWS AND YOU COME UP FOR AIR, THE PLOT THICKENS…

“What they didn’t know, was that his surname had twelve consonants and only one vowel  -  “o”   –   or was it  “i”  -  and the rest were z’s, y’s, w’s and k’s. So a surname in his case wasn’t worth time wasted! Even the army upon his joining at 17 didn’t, or wouldn’t, record it correctly! He was known  only as NIKOLAI. Often they inserted “Knack” where the form asked for a surname. And it stuck. It was on his passport, and dog tags, everything. Full government investigations into his past turned up nothing remotely resembling “Ytslsgtststcy”.

He thought he was from a small town in New Zealand. Others thought he was from Eastern Europe. But the name was not English, not Eastern European and nor was it Icelandic! In the end they gave up.

          He did admit, however, that if he had the choice he “wanted” to come from the small town in New Zealand, because he loved New Zealand more than anywhere in the world and he had been to most places. So he manufactured a past, from his schooling to everything about the small town and the surrounding district in fact everything about New Zealand. He was fortunate to have an almost photographic memory and could tell you the history of the town, the country, its people and its idiosyncrasies.

He could tell you about his childhood, down to the most minute detail. Places, names and dates were easy. When the Army gave him his passport, the stamp was indelible and plastered over the name, was an embossed - “New Zealand”.

          Nikolai was not new to North America either. He had a green card  even though he now lived in Australia. He knew America well. Possibly better than most Americans. So he founded a company he’d called “Black Apple Inc”, the name, “for no reason”!

It was a “difficult to contact” company, based in Southern California  and yet it had strategic offices around the world. The company was a combination of a courier business, and private investigative corporation with specialist agents, pilots, admin and aircraft. Its “guarded confidential courier” business was increasing rapidly.

Yes, “Black Apple Inc,” didn’t chase business. Business came to them, through word of mouth and among its customers were major airlines, Homeland Security, The FBI, MI5 and other Government agencies.

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