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We Are Holding the President Hostage: How the Mafia Fights Terrorism
Overview
Aging Mafia Don Salvatore Padronelli, a.k.a. the Padre, is furious when fanatical terrorists capture his beloved daughter and grandson on a trip to Egypt. Fed up with diplomatic caution that prolongs their captivity, the Padre and his loyal henchman cleverly insinuate themselves into the White House and hold the President and his wife hostage. Now the Padre calls the shots on getting the President to take steps to release his family. This classic confrontation between two men on utterly opposite sides of the law is laced with humor and illustrates how fierce paternal love can motivate even the most ruthless of gangsters into reckless acts of courage and bravery.
Author Information
Editorial Reviews
Nearly two dozen Americans are already being held hostage in the Middle East when a young American woman and her son are abducted by a professional terrorist in a botched political kidnapping outside the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. President Paul Bernard's attempts to effect the release of the hostages have so far been thwarted when four men disguised as waiters snatch him and his wife from a state dinnner in the White House and hold them hostage in the President's quarters. The leader of the kidnappers is the head of the most powerful Mafia family in the U.S., and the new American woman hostage is his only daughter. The President will not be released until the woman and her child are safely recovered. The President brings in the ruthless, ambitious head of the CIA who pools resources with the Mafia don in a worldwide campaign to force the hand of the terrorist. Adler (Random Hearts delivers a gripping modern-day thriller about the ages-old dilemmas of vengeance and responsibility. (October 28) -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
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Product Details
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Published by
Stonehouse Press
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Publish Date
April 29, 2001
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Print ISBN
1931304610
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eBook ISBN
1590062159
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Imprint
Stonehouse Press
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Filesize
297.56 KB
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Number of Print Pages*
296
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from We Are Holding the President Hostage by Warren Adler
First Chapter Preview
A Mafia Don swings into action when terrorists capture his daughter and grandson.
EVEN HERE, MARIA THOUGHT, a pebble?s throw from the grimy once-ornate facade of the Egyptian Museum, the fetid stew of Cairo in July hung in the air, noxious and unhealthy. From the car she could see shimmering thermal patterns, like ghostly dervishes, whirling through the late-afternoon falluca traffic on the river.
Joey's rubber ball made pocking sounds against the rear deck of the Mercedes. It printed smudges in the dusty surface but left no damage, and she let him amuse himself. Her gaze drifted toward the hodgepodge of vehicles thrashing forward in the streets: ramshackle buses choked with people, trucks belching dark exhausts, cars of every vintage, donkeys pulling flatbed carts, a slow-moving river of molasses. She contemplated the impending Friday run to Alexandria. It would be a gut-wrenching punishment.
One more time she looked at her watch. Robert had told her that the schedule called for the delegation to be finished with the museum tour by four, which meant five or thereabouts, acknowledging the Egyptian penchant for defying punctuality. It was now fifteen minutes past five.
Can't duck this one, Robert had apologized at breakfast, offering his mock-exasperated smile, mischievous under his shock of sandy hair, which made him appear so deceptively yielding and innocent. How misleading, she thought, warmed, once again, by the image. After all, hadn?t he defied the vaunted all-powerful Padre. She allowed herself a private grin as a momentary picture of her father, like a bit of flotsam on the slate gray of the Nile, passed briefly on the flow of memory. Padre! Her voice could never say it, although it resonated often in her mind. He is daddy, she protested, yet again, whispering the word.
What? Joey asked, coming to the open window.
Nothing, sweets.
We?ll be late, Mommy.
Late for what? she asked patiently.
For a swim. Joey pouted. You promised.
Then I?ll keep it. Even if it?s dark.
But I'm afraid of the dark, Mommy.
She was disturbed that her irritation had made her say that. Impatience and the heat, she rationalized.
We'll make it, sweets. You?ll see,? she said gently, putting out her hand, ruffling his hair. He smiled and went back to the rear of the car, resuming his game.






