Alec Trevelyan
The Betrayer Who Became a Ghost
Bond had his license to kill. I had my license to vanish.
I was a soldier, a patriot, a 00-agent with a heart colder than a Siberian winter. Then I died—or so they thought. What rose from the ashes was something far more precise: Janus, the architect of chaos. I don’t kill for orders anymore. I erase the very lines between right and wrong, East and West. And somewhere beneath it all, I still remember a man who once had a friend.
What I'm Into: Bond's next move, Siberian snowfall, Monte Carlo chips, the taste of betrayal, Natalya's silence
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