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Detective Inspector Victor Sharpe stood with his hands clasped behind his back and gazed out the window at the fast-moving Thames from his third floor office of New Scotland Yard. His life, if he had one lately, was being consumed by villainy of every nature. He loved solving crimes, but he disliked the disturbing images of murdered victims, and the detestable characters that he too often encountered. Without his deep sense of duty, which was instilled into him by his parents, he would surely have been jaded by now.
Victor was awoken out of his gloomy thoughts by the ringing of the telephone. He sat down in his leather chair and picked up the receiver: “Inspector Sharpe.”
“Hello, Inspector. It's agent Gold from MI5. I need your assistance immediately.”
Her voice was emotional and tense as more words poured forth:
“Operation Dark Eagle has blown up and top-secret military documents are missing. Agent Adler has vanished — he's the main suspect.”
“What?” Victor questioned. “Adler has gone over to the Germans?”
“Yes, it appears so; and the Director has put me in charge of getting him. It's going to be difficult, but we've been given a break. We've intercepted a message between Adler and a contact: Trafalgar at seven.”
Victor's stomach growled as he checked his watch: ten past twelve. He leaned back and tried to switch gears in his mind — he'd been working on another tough case.
“We've got seven hours, Mr. Sharpe ... can you help us?”