Contacts & Tax Cons by Rachel Ford (Time Travelling Taxman Book 8)
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB | 2.6 MB
Rachel Ford lives in beautiful Central Wisconsin. She is a programmer, who works in everything from SQL to .NET to Cisco CVP and IVR. Her latest foray into new and exciting things has been developing custom Java plugins for CVP applications.
An alternate universe. A dystopian nightmare. A sinister plot.
When agents of the Interdimensional Bureau of Temporal Investigations start vanishing, IRS senior analyst and IBTI agent Alfred Favero is assigned to the case. His mission? Track down a mysterious contact known only as Krasnaya.
In a world where every word is overheard, every thought policed, and every action monitored, Alfred must stay off the radar long enough to find his quarry – and get back home before the brutal politsiya or the shadowy rebels get their hands on him.
Otherwise, the intrepid lawman may have pursued his last lead…
e as if he was deeply offended. He wasn’t, of course. She’d been teasing him with hints about her costume for weeks now, and he was determined to drag it out of her.
They weren’t doing a couple’s costume. He knew that. She’d decided late October was no time to don Greek clothes. “Is it something from Star Trek? It is, isn’t it? Are you going to be Jadzia again?” She’d dressed as Star Trek’s Jadzia Dax when they’d attended MarvelousCon earlier in the year.
His enthusiasm was cut short by her smile, though. She was too satisfied with herself for his guess to be accurate. “I told you, you’ll have to wait and see.”
“I will figure it out, you know.”
She flashed him a wicked grin. “No you won’t. But, just to be sporting, I’ll give you a hint: it’s from a movie, book, or television show that I like.”
He snorted. That wasn’t much of a hint. “Oh, that really narrows it down. So, basically, anything nerdy. Which I already knew.”
She opened her mouth to speak. But what she might have said, he wouldn’t find out. Because at that precise moment, a whooshing sound filled the living room, and a body materialized in the center of the room a moment later.
Satan – his and Nance’s devilish kitten – jumped off the back of the sofa, disappearing behind it. Nancy jumped to her feet. So did Alfred, but he was holding a steaming mug of coffee, and she wasn’t. It went flying, just as the visitor materialized – just in time to soak their guest in scalding coffee.
It was Special Agent Roger Winthrop of the Interdimensional Bureau of Temporal Investigation. Alfred felt a little silly for panicking. He’d seen this mode of entry enough times to be used to it. Winthrop was using a space time field manipulator to pull himself from whatever era and dimension he’d been in to their time.
Still, hadn’t the other man heard of calling ahead? “Sugar cookies,” he breathed out, refusing – even in his agitated state – to sink to vulgarity. “Do you have to show up like that?”
Winthrop, meanwhile, yelped. “Bloody hell, Alfred. That hurt. What was that? Coffee?”
He acknowledged that it was, and Winthrop scowled at him. “You could materialize somewhere else,” the taxman sniffed, “and then knock at the door. Like a regular person.”
“I don’t have time for ‘regular person’ niceties.”
Nancy frowned at him. “What do you mean, you don’t have time? You have all the time in the world, Winthrop.”
This was technically true, and it raised a good point. With the time manipulating technology the IBTI possessed, Winthrop could skip through time however he saw fit. It was literally never an issue for agents of the bureau, because they could manipulate it at will. So why now?