A Chronicles of Jack Swift, Volume 1 Excerpt

Beckett put the lavish bottle of liquor on his desk, then reached into his file box and pulled out an almost-empty fifth of Jack Daniels. He placed both in an unoccupied drawer and locked his vice, and dug deeper into the package; it was too full to just contain a bottle of alcohol. Stacks of money neatly rested atop each other – there must have been hundreds of thousands of dollars meticulously stuffed into the package.

“Holy riches of regret. I knew I shouldn’t have opened this damn box. Fucking Jack Swift.”

The detective appreciated the gesture with a smirk, even pondered what his life would be like if he had just got up and left Interpol right that instant with a bottle of Clase Azul in his clutch and enough money to retire resting under his arm. He was too good of a man though.

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