Limitless (34 page)

I don’t know any more, and don’t even know that it matters.

Besides, I’m feeling drowsy, and a little weak.

I think I’m going to lie down for a while.

I’ve just slept for about five hours, fitfully, tossing and turning. For the whole time, it felt like I was having a continuous, full-on anxiety dream, and when I woke up I had a headache behind my eyes which quickly spread out to the rest of my skull. Disorientated, groggy, nauseous, I then got off the bed, came back over here to the wicker armchair and replaced the computer on my lap.

It’s now around midday, and the TV is still on, tuned to CNN.

Clearly, something major has been happening since yesterday evening, or early this morning. I’m looking at shots of battleships stationed in the Gulf of Mexico, of ground troops being deployed along border areas, of Defense Secretary Caleb Hale in emergency session with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Along the bottom of the screen a band of text announces that a live presidential address from the Oval Office is about to commence.

I close my eyes for a while, and when I open them again the President is on the TV screen, sitting at his desk. I can’t bear to turn the sound up, and as I study him closely, and see the alert, gorged MDT expression in his eyes, I realize that I can’t bear to
look
at him any more either. I reach out for the remote control and flick over to another channel, cartoons.

I gaze down at the keyboard of the laptop. My head is pounding now, and getting steadily worse. It’s time to shut off the computer
and put it aside. I look over at the small table next to the bed, and at the plastic bottle on it containing 150 paracetamol tablets. Then I look at the keyboard once more and, wishing the command had a wider, smarter application – wishing it could somehow mean what it says – press ‘save’.  

Alan Glynn was born in 1960. He studied English Literature at Trinity College and has worked in magazine publishing in New York and as an EFL teacher in Italy. His second novel,
Winterland
, was published in 2009, and will be followed by
Bloodland
in 2011. He is married with two children and lives in Dublin.

WINTERLAND

Bloodland

(Autumn 2011)

Corruption. Collusion. Conspiracy.

A tabloid star is killed in a helicopter crash and three years later a young journalist is warned off the story.

A private security contractor loses it in the Congo.

In Ireland an ex-prime minister struggles to contain a dark secret from his time in office.

A dramatic news story breaks in Paris just as a US senator begins his campaign to run for office.

With echoes of John Le Carré,
24
and James Ellroy, Alan Glynn’s follow-up to
Winterland
is another crime novel of and for our times – a ferocious, paranoid thriller that moves from Dublin to New York via Central Africa, as it explores the legacy of corruption in big
business
, the West’s fear of China, the role of back-room political players and the question of who controls what we know.

Winterland

(available in paperback now)

‘A dark edgy thriller packed with genuine suspense and a real sense of danger, diving into a world of crime, corruption and violence that is all too convincing.’
The Times

‘A page turner in the best sense of the word … the three set pieces of the story are as good as anything I’ve read in contemporary crime fiction.’ John Boyne,
Irish Times

‘An enthralling and addictive read.’
Observer

‘Clever and intense; a dark and powerful slice of Dublin noir. I loved it!’ R. J. Ellory

‘A terrific read … completely involving.’ George Pelecanos

‘Timely, topical and thrilling.’ John Connolly

‘A resonant, memorable and uncomfortable read …
Winterland
is a book that speaks to absolutely now.’ Val McDermid