I am watching "Battle In Seattle" right now, and OMFG I feel my commie tendencies surging up. I remember reading about the protests, wishing I was there. If not to change the world, to brave the mockery, batons, tear gas, and futility to take a stand. I may not agree with the communists, the leftists, or the agitators all the time. But I'm going ( Read more... )

 “Power”- Episode 11- Saturday, June 17, 8:30 AM

Party headquarters in Rouen was a squat little building, with an unimpressive back door that bore the stains of many filthy years.

The room inside the back door wasn’t much better. Used for storing muddy boots and extra coats, it doubtless concealed a thousand ( Read more... )

10- Thursday, June 15, 11:45 PM, “Evidence”

Dante leaned against the wall of the bunker. The cold night air and the chill of the wall on his back had cleared his head. It had been too stuffy inside. It was better outside, easier to ease his mind to a higher level.

“Are you all right?” Langton leaned in.

( Read more... )

Episode 9, Friday, June 24, 11 AM “Refusal”

“You’re here for Mr. Romanov?” the nurse peered over her clipboard.

They might as well have registered Valentin as Mr. Fake Falsename. But the veteran’s hospital had been chosen by Max for a reason- discretion. And the fact that it was close enough for Valentin to survive the trip there.

The place ( Read more... )

Olivia paced the kitchen, hands on her hips. She’d never gotten the knack of quieting herself or resigning herself to fate.

Conducteur was still upstairs, trying to get some coherence out of Valentin. The morphine was gone, but pain and a scalding fever had kept him from really waking up.

Somebody had to tell Inspector ( Read more... )

Episode 7, Thursday June 15, 8:45 pm, “Ambush”

Dante paced the hall of the bunker, each step precise. It was eight steps across, then turn, then eight steps, then turn. Eight… like Henry the Eighth, who had broken Rome’s dominance of England. Eight like the sides of the gazebo on his estate back home, where his wife was probably ( Read more... )

In the early days of the Cold War, evil genius Max (funded by the Soviets, who else?) runs Communist agents out of Paris. Max is an emotionless puppet-master, who wears a silver carnival mask either to hide his identity or hide some disfigurement on his face. The Communist agents wage a constant battle of wits and bullets with the agents of the ( Read more... )