The Isle of Olympia. Andreas Karpasitis
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38
The Isle
of
Olympia
Andreas Karpasitis
Andreas Karpasitis was born in 1984 in Larnaca, Cyprus. Since then, he has had an all evolving and changing path. From his studies in Motion Pictures and Computer Science at the University of Miami, where he graduated in 2008, to the world of television, real estate, fiduciary services, and currently in the tech sector as a software engineer. He has always been immersed in the creative space, from focusing and perfecting his photography to writing articles and short stories and getting involved with short films. His first real and experimental creative work as an author was the short fictional story, How the Devil Mocked Me, self-published sometime in 2016, then released online and now available for free. He originally started working on The Isle of Olympia around 2009 when he wrote his first page. More than ten years later, during the crippling coronavirus pandemic, he managed to complete his work and realize his self-publishing ambition.
www.karpasitis.net
© Andreas Karpasitis
The Isle of Olympia
ISBN ePub: 978-84-685-5596-6
ISBN Paperback: 978-84-685-5571-3
ISBN eBook (PDF): 978-84-685-5572-0
Editado por Bubok Publishing S.L
Legal Deposit / Depósito Legal: DL B 3814-2021
First Edition: February 2021
Copyright © Andreas Karpasitis. 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover Illustrator: Patricio Rodriguez
The Isle of Olympia is a work of fiction. While some of the events and characters are based on historical events and figures, this novel in its entirety is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, with the exception of some historical events, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life public and/or historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Year 2011
It was a lovely warm Friday night. Clear skies, the leaves of the green trees motionless. As he walked along the side of the pavement, Murphy watched his shadow overtaking the cobblestone street of Paris. The narrow streets in that area were fairly quiet. He carefully placed his feet on each stone, slightly slipping at times. It had been a long couple of days, and he had felt the need to wind down.
He paused at the corner of the street and looked at his wristwatch. James, another agent who he had the pleasure to work with before, had been bugging him for a few days now, trying to convince Murphy to tag along. A way of getting a second set of eyes in his investigation and possibly a reassuring acknowledgment. Murphy had finally run out of plausible excuses, so they arranged to meet.
Murphy pulled a cigarette from his almost empty, wrinkled package, watching as the tip ignited. He leaned against the streetlight as he took a few deep drags. It’s going to be quick, he tried to convince himself. Murphy was a handsome, somewhat tall young man in his late twenties. He had been working in the Central Intelligence Agency for some years now, and he was enjoying the challenges he faced. He enjoyed traveling and meeting new people. It was his dream job. Serve his country and, at the same time, live a life of excitement.
An old but clean and polished Peugeot suddenly appeared from the end of the street. Its tires screeched as it stopped in front of Murphy. The passenger promptly stuck his head out of the window.
“Let’s do this, Murph,” the man said in a strong, British accent as he extended his arm.
Murphy approached the car and tossed his cigarette on the sidewalk.
“Yes, indeed, let’s get it out of the way, James,” Murphy replied as they shook hands.
He opened the back-seat door to a stale plume of cigar smoke, and made himself as comfortable as possible amidst the mess.
Leaving skidmarks as the only indication that it had been there, the car sped through the picturesque and busy streets of Paris. People gathered