Aleksandr Voinov

The sequel to "Clean Slate" out since September 24, 2010 from Dreamspinner Press both in ebook and print.

On their last assignment, GORGON agents Chris Gibson and his partner John Soong protected Russian mob lawyer Andrei Voronin rather than killing him. They covered Andrei’s tracks, forged a shaky relationship, and their international intelligence and paramilitary group staged Andrei’s death and took him into the fold.

Nikita Kazakov, a Russian cop who had used Andrei as a source and promised him protection, plots to avenge his protégé. He soon tracks down Chris—the “killer”—only to find a man he desires, and Chris is just as intrigued. Amidst the danger of the unsolved mystery still lingering around Andrei, Chris and Nikita stalk each other, meet for heated sex, and try to work out who the other is: criminal, cop, hitman… or lover.

Chapter 1

Rochev knelt on the ground, holding his broken arm tight to his chest, cradling it like a weapon. Blood dripped from his face, his breath ragged, wet through split lips. Nikita stepped back and lowered his hands. Unlikely he’d use them again—he didn’t expect the other man to get up very soon.

“You’re not making this very easy on you.”

“I told you,” the man on the ground said. “I told you he’s dead.”

Nikita felt the sudden urge to kick Rochev in the face for saying that. Dead. No. Simply no. But kicking a kneeling man wouldn’t do his anger any good. Wouldn’t purge anything. He had to control that anger. Somehow.

He turned away, took a few steps to the car, and reached for a water bottle, then drank deeply. Beating the shit out of a man who’d clearly learned to take pain was tiring. His eyes fell on the folded newspaper on the driver’s seat. The Guardian. Cover story. Russian Crime Haunts Europe’s Streets.

And a large image of Andrei Voronin, still alive. Taken from the website of the law firm he had worked for. Andrei A. Voronin, Corporate Law, Harvard Law School, advised on family trusts, off-shore trusts, cross-border mergers and acquisitions, international tax law. Nikita had memorized the profile. Every scrap of information.

Rochev coughed, ragged, uneven sounds, but it took Nikita a moment to realize it was closer to sobbing. He turned, eyes narrow.

“Don’t kill me.”

Nikita put the newspaper down and stood near the car for a while, studying the crumbled figure on the oil-stained cement floor. The headlights tore him out of the darkness, bent over, muscular neck bowed, on his knees. If not for the obvious pain and fear, the position would have been inviting, would have made Nikita think of sex. But this was just submission, without the kick, without the charge in the air. Never mind that Nikita preferred his subs to be people he respected. No respect for a common criminal.

“God, please don’t kill me.”

“Stop whining.” Nikita stepped closer, now irritated at the jabbering. “Tell me everything. How did you meet Voronin?” He didn’t call him Andrei Alexeyevich. Too personal, despite the fact that using the first name and patronymic was the polite form to address a Russian. Maybe, Nikita reflected, they’d all spent too much time in the West.

“He worked for Zaitsev, my boss. He was his lawyer.”

The past tense of those statements balled Nikita’s fists. Liar, he wanted to shout, and punch Rochev, punch and kick him until he was flat on the ground, lifeless, beaten to a pulp rather than merely broken. Excessive force. Breaking his arm and kicking him in the balls could already be called excessive. Punching him in the face wasn’t; he’d mainly done that to stun him into compliance.

“And?”

“Then he was attacked. It wasn’t us! You have to believe….”

“Just the facts.”

“Please.”

“Don’t piss me off.” Nikita stepped closer again, grabbed a handful of the man’s dark suit in his neck, and pulled him up like a kitten to look at him. “Just tell me.”

“They shot him in his house in Monte Carlo. Zaitsev’s enemies did.”

“Who?”

“Zaitsev think it was Shkadov, he’s been messing with Zaitsev’s organization. We thought Voronin was dead, but he survived.”

Yeah, and you promised to protect him, Nikita. You promised him he’d be safe. While you were too busy, they shot Andrei. “And then?”

“Then he vanished. Zaitsev tried to track him. Next thing we know, he’s in Paris. And they say he doesn’t remember anything. That a bullet went into his brain and wiped out his memory. Zaitsev doesn’t believe it, he thinks Voronin has sold out to the law or Shkadov. That he wasn’t shot, that he was tortured to tell everything. So he wants him dead. Hires a guy who’s watching Voronin to kill him. Next day, Voronin gets shot on the street in Paris and is finally dead.”

Nikita held back the punch and instead released the man with a hiss of distaste. Finally dead. That fucker was on thin ice and didn’t even know it. “Who fired the shot?”

The man hesitated. “A man called Christopher Gibson.”

“Who is he?”

“Freelancer. Hitman. As far as I know. Somebody tasked him to watch over Voronin, but Zaitsev paid him five million American and he shot him, sorting out the problem.”

The problem. One way to call it, Nikita thought. He’d call it treason. Killing the man you were paid to protect because somebody made a bigger offer? Worst kind of scum.

“Thank you for the information.” Nikita couldn’t bring himself to smile. In the last half hour, they had left the realm of pleasantries way behind and had achieved a deeper understanding. He reached inside his jacket.

“God, no, please don’t kill me. I told you everything!”

Nikita paused as if to consider it. “Would you prefer to go to a nice Siberian prison?”

“I’ve done nothing wrong….”

“Doesn’t count.” Nikita bared his teeth. “You know what kind of scumbag you’re working for. You still do it.”

“God, I haven’t….”

“Shut up.” Nikita straightened and pulled the gun, let it rest in his hand, pointing at the cement floor. Clearly visible in Rochev’s view. “You did cooperate.”

“I will… cooperate more. Please.”

“You’d betray Zaitsev?”

“I already did.”

“True.” Nikita let the silence drag on, forced his mind to focus on the present rather than a future when a man called Christopher Gibson would kneel in front of him, just like this. And Nikita would kill him. “You will report to me. Every one of Zaitsev’s meetings, every movement he makes. You will give me a full list of his contacts.”

“Yes. Yes, I can do that. He trusts me.”

“More’s the pity,” Nikita muttered. “I’ll make sure that your cooperation will be noted. Double cross me, and we will continue our little talk here.”

The action plot was sustained and realistic with a great mix of gun-fights, chases, thrills and heart in your mouth moments for both characters. There’s also a fair amount of graphic violence which may be off-putting to some readers. As for me, I was hooked from the first page and thoroughly enjoyed readingFirst Blood. I would recommend it to readers who are looking for a action-packed story of dark goings on, where no-one can be trusted, and the heroes are on hand to save the day. Marvellous! -- Jenre at Jessewave

Let me say first off that I am not a reader of books with special agents and international intrigue.........usually. However after reading "First Blood", I may change my mind. 
Chris and Nikita watch each other and every move made and they also engage in torrid sex as they try to understand which the criminal is and which the lover is. This makes for some fascinating reading. 
Voinov and Sheridan give us some unforgettable characters here. Nikita has charisma that drew me to him the moment he entered the story. I really wanted him and Chris to be able to be together. They complement each other and it seemed to me that they were made for each other. Chris is also an interesting character. If you like intrigue and well developed characters, this is the book for you. -- Amos Lassen at Amazon

The plot here of international intrigues is highly entertaining, fast paced, with exciting scenes, and well written. No complaint here at all as our guys assassinate, set trap, run against time to get rid of the scums of the earth. I also like both Chris and Nikita, especially Nikita. (...) I enjoy the initial cat-and-mouse game between Chris and Nikita, the growing tension, the attraction and the lust. Maybe they need to really work at it for their relationship to ultimately work as these two are alphas in their own right but I am left satisfied in the end that they would make it. Definitely hope for a sequel on this couple and also the other more "vanilla" couple of the dependent John and his beautiful Andrei. -- R Parklane at Amazon.

This book is most definitely a character driven piece, and apart from the brisk pace, witty dialogue, foreign locales, the danger, the tension, and the fluid writing, the story’s strengths are situated entirely on the burgeoning affair between Chris and Nikita. There are no happily-ever-afters here, though; I’m not even certain I’d say there was a happy-for-now to be had. What I was left with in the end, however, was the hope that these two men will be back in the assassination business again very soon. -- Lisa at Michele N Jeff Reviews

A great read! I've been looking forward to this one since I read Clean Slate, and I wasn't disappointed. Aleks never fails to sucks me in no matter what the subject matter—he's far too crafty with words for his own good—and Ms. Sheridan is swiftly becoming a favorite as well. As much as I enjoyed the threesome dynamic in Clean Slate, I loved watching Chris find someone (as well as something) he needed. Despite my intentions to draw out the pleasure, I devoured the book in a day. -- Libby Drew at Goodreads