Ex-con Ian Wickam's job as a telephone line repairman for London Telecom isn't his cup of tea.
And that's when his old friend Donny Rawlings invites him down to the pub for a pint of Guinness, an earful of gossip, and the offer to pull off one final heist.
Only two things faze Ian.
First off, there's no cash vault to crack, no jewelry to snatch. The target's a thousand liters of blood plasma, frozen in liquid nitrogen.
The second reason's a little more dodgy. See, Ian's friend - and the backer of this job, an Eastern European-sounded chap named Vikomt Casimir, are members of a species better known for turning into bats and using their fangs to bite peoples' necks.
Well, no one said that the job would be easy.
©2011 Michael Angel (P)2012 Banty Hen Publishing
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