Welcome to TRB Lounge! We’re thrilled to host author Allen Whyler today, who will be unveiling an intriguing excerpt from their newest release, Deadly Odds 7.0. Dive in and get an exclusive sneak peek into the intriguing world they’ve crafted in their latest work!

About the Book

Deadly Odds 7.0

In Wyler’s 7th installment of the Deadly Odds techno-thriller series, reformed hacker Arnold Gold and his team are contracted to come up with a daring plan to sneak past the building’s newly installed AI-enhanced security systems to hack the computers and offices a high-profile Seattle law firm in an ultra-secure downtown office building while squaring off against the clock and a hard-driving, paranoid Head of Security, Itzhak Mizrahi.

Excerpt

EXCEPT FOR OCASSIONAL intense sapphire glints from her eyes, low sweeping cedar branches formed an island of impenetrable layered shadows in a lake of harsh mercury-vapor streetlight, cloistering a petite female in black jeans, black wool turtleneck, black shoes, and a black ski mask over her pale white skin and regimented coif of platinum-blond hair. She sat cross-legged in a roughly triangular patch of weed-infested ivy, back propped against the scaly red strips of cedar bark. Her third consecutive night of surveilling Arnold Gold’s home from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. Precisely. And like the prior nights, no one appeared to be inside the ultra-contemporary cube despite various lights that turned on at the same time each evening. Alexa smart switches, she assumed.

Another glance at her watch. Another sixty minutes had just snailed past. Amazing. The time just seemed to… dissipate. Another sixty minutes of her life had evaporated doing… what, exactly? Surveillance. There was, however, a bright side. Those sixty minutes were billable. The not-so-bright side, however, was that the time could never be recaptured. Oh well, it was a job, and like certain orifices, everybody needs one. If she weren’t doing this, she might be wiping tables and slinging hash browns at a Denny’s. She stifled a yawn. Enough. She had fulfilled her commitment for the evening.

According to the property records, this was indeed Gold’s home. But he wasn’t inside during the specified hours on these specified evenings. Where was he? On vacation? At a girlfriend’s? Or perhaps a boyfriend’s? No idea and not her problem, for she hadn’t been asked to address that question. Adhering to her well-established reputation as a diligent and rigorous investigator, she intended to write up the exact details outlined in the assignment and that would be that. Then on to the next job.

She stood, swatted debris from her black pants, did an about-face to ruffle the matted ivy back into some semblance of natural confusion, then stepped back to inspect how well she’d disguised her presence. Not quite perfect. Bending over, she messed up an edge that didn’t look quite right. Surveyed her work again and nodded silent approval. Now it was perfect. 

Three full strides and she was standing on the edge of the narrow, windy, asphalt side street. Stood still for a moment, scanning the immediate vicinity. No vehicular nor pedestrian traffic. No one in sight. Off came her ski mask, which she quickly wadded into the back pocket of her jeans, then slid from the concealing shadows up the sidewalk of the deserted street. Turned right at the corner, continued straight ahead for half a block, then another right turn into the alley that again shrouded her in the dense shadows of shrubs and fences. Silently she navigated an obstacle course of color-coded recycling, garbage, and compost bins, all the while concealed in the darkest areas. Her contracted three hours finished, she was now working on her own time. But true to her reputation for scrupulous thoroughness, she felt it necessary to add a trademark garnish to her report. Lest anyone should ever accuse her work of being shoddy. And besides, it cost only a handful of minutes. Salve for her conscience. This job, after all, had turned out to be less of a challenge than originally thought, so anything to spice it up…

About The Author

Allen Wyler

Allen Wyler is a retired neurosurgeon who lives in Seattle.

Allen’s thrillers have twice been nominated for the prestigious Thriller Award. He has served on the Board of Directors of the International Thriller Writers and is also an active member of the North American Crime Writers and Mystery Writers of America. He lives in Seattle.

You can find author Wyler here:
Website

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