Knight's Ransom (The E Z Knight Reports): The E Z Knight Reports Series
Gordon A Kessler
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
For E Z Knight, when it rains, it pours—and it seldom tastes anything like water.
In this first novel published of ”The E Z Knight Reports” series, E Z has a million-dollar contract on his head and a whole boatload of hit men after his ass. Even worse, a young Russian beauty has just handed him a photo of his six-year-old goddaughter wearing a vest wired with enough plastic explosives to bring down the Golden Gate Bridge.
Nowadays, all E Z wants is to be left alone. He seeks an uncomplicated and safe life, living with his golden retriever, Jazzy Brass, on a sailboat in Southern California. But his past won’t cooperate. When, only two minutes before his neighbor’s sailboat blows up in front of him, he’s handed a picture of his best friend’s kidnapped daughter strapped with Semtex, he knows there’ll be no peace today. He’s stared down death more times than he can remember, but death hasn’t come to harvest someone this close to him since his wife was murdered six years ago.
E Z’s former best friend, Jason Ryder, is up for an Oscar, and the man’s newly divorced wife, actress Stella Hutchins, is E Z’s very hot ex-girlfriend. With their little girl in jeopardy, they must put on a facade of normalcy on the biggest night of their lives—that could also be their last.
A walk down the Academy Awards’ Red Carpet is a new experience for an old Leatherneck, but former US Force Recon Marine, E Z Knight isn’t shy. He’d do anything to get his goddaughter back safely—be it by bullet or by bedroom—and he must have a little of both to get to the bottom of this one.
Teaming up with a spicy little Russian who carries a Mach 10, an old woman who flips him the bird every morning, and a couple of his old comrades-in-arms, E Z’s bound to track down little Sophie Ryder’s abductors, rescue her, get her home unharmed, and do away with some very nasty bastards, all in short order. But in the hours to come, a deadly old nemesis returns, and a new team of very lethal assassins strikes at his heart.
E Z never liked killing, but he’s good at it, and the next forty-eight hours are bound to be murder.
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A sexy, humorous and irreverent series as well as a somewhat realistic and poignant look at the darker side of life, crime and the human condition. With a modern-day, ramped up and gritty "The Rockford Files"/"Magnum PI" feel, a Jack Bauer-capable hero and a "24" pace, this series consists of page-thrumming, novels.
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"The E Z Knight Reports" series has a special section on the author's website and blog (gordonkessler.com) with info on each of the books, E Z Knight, Jazzy Brass and the "Knight Girls". You'll also find information about the author and his other novels and works.
bullshit? I’m telling you the truth.” The talker nods to his partner. The other man approaches, grabs a large can of beans and throws it hard. Oz doesn’t have a chance to catch it in his hand, the guy’s too close. He catches it on top of his head just above the hairline. Man, it hurts! He nearly blacks out from the pain. “Try again,” the talker says. The can thrower is loading a gunny sack with smaller cans. “I told you, I don’t know no He-she Nice!” “E Z Knight!” “Oh..., E Z Knight. Why
reached into the console, took out my old Kansas City Royals baseball cap and put it on. I’d had a little sunburn lately and my father had just had some benign spots removed from his face. Why take any chances? Of course I wasn’t worried about pissing anyone off with my choice of baseball caps. Gangs around here wouldn’t care. Most everyone in SoCal wore Angels, Dodgers or Padres hats. Once in a while you might see Athletics, or Giants — sometimes wearing one of those can lead to a tussle. But
matching belt and large chrome buckle. But, in just the right places, it was almost not there at all. She wore it very, very beautifully — and I told her so. She always took my compliments well, I think because she knew them to be sincere. She leaned over and kissed me on the lips, and I kissed her back. I know — I’m a dog. I shouldn’t want to be within a mile of this woman. She’d lied to me, used me and half-heartedly planned to murder me. I was sure she was at least unwittingly involved in her
out,” I told them. “You too, Zoya. Wait for the cops. They should be here any minute.” “Nyet,” she said, firmly. “I go vith you!” “Beautiful,” I said as he walked away, “Get the Coast Guard’s phone number and be prepared to call them. Also, see if Mama Lo can run an International Maritime Number on...” I recalled the letters and numbers that Rabbit had related to me early yesterday, remembering that the IMO was only one off from my own Social Security Number. “I need to know everything I can
element of surprise in our favor. When I gave Zoya the thumbs up, she began the next stage of our plan. She hooked her mask and snorkel on the equipment, released her regulator and swam to the surface beside the boat’s stern accommodation ladder. I kept the spear gun, pistols and phones in the sampling bags. She surfaced just below the guard on deck. “Help me!” she said, panting frantically. “Me lost, not swim vell.” Staying submerged, I’d found a good tactical position to the side and