They thought they had killed him but Parker had survived their bullets to become the most dangerous game of all — the beast at bay. The prey had suddenly become the hunter and now Parker was stalking them. And he had only three things on his mind— Mal— Mal had double-crossed him on a heist out on the West Coast. Then he’d run off with Parker’s share of the loot and left him for dead. Lynn— Lynn was his wife but she’d played the Judas ewe by setting him up for the slaughter. She was living in New York City somewhere now, with Mal. The syndicate— They had a lot of his money. Mal had welshed on a debt and paid off with Parker’s share of the heist. Parker wasn’t so much vicious as primitive. He believed in the oldest law of all — a life for a life!

CHEAP AT TWICE THE PRICE? When the bandages came off, Parker looked in the mirror at a stranger. He nodded to the stranger and looked beyond at the reflection of Dr. Adler. Parker had been in the sanitarium a little over four weeks now. He had come in with a face that the New York Syndicate wanted to put a bullet in, and now he was going back with a face that meant absolutely nothing to anyone. It had cost Him $18,000 if it kept him alive long enough to do what he had to do, it would be worth it

It all started when a small statuette — stolen from a fifteenth-century tomb during the French Revolution — turned up suddenly in America. A man named Harrow, the very rich father of a very naughty daughter, offered Parker $50,000, in advance. to steal it. This presented no special problem since stealing was Parker’s business anyway, and besides, Bett Harrow, the daughter, had something of Parker’s that was very incriminating. But the statuette was in the Washington residence of a man named Kapor, a minor official from one of the Communist nations, who not only had the stolen statuette but had also misappropriated $100,000 of his government’s funds. It was all very confusing for a while. And then

You got to excuse an old man — need help! Joe Sheer was an old-time jugger who’d cracked his first safe the other side of World War I. He wasn’t working any more now, but in his day he had been one of the best. So when Parker got Joe’s letter, which was one long agonized scream for help, he pulled out his suitcase and started packing. But it wasn’t for Joe Sheer that he packed, or called the airport and made a reservation for the first thing flying to Omaha. As far as he was concerned the old fool could drop dead. Parker was packing for himself. He was going because in Joe’s letter he saw danger to himself much more obvious and lethal than any personal peril Sheer had been describing. Joe was just an old jugger turned rusty and shaky and scared, an old jugger ready to trade any man he’d ever worked with for a nice soft mattress and a nice warm radiator and a little peace of mind

Just because no one had ever tried it before? What better place for a heist, if it was timed right, than a football stadium? There’d have to be money in the box office; the game was a sellout. Every eye in the place would be glued to the action down on the field. Even the getaway would be a cinch. Who was going to challenge an ambulance, either going out or coming in? An ambulance, with one of the seven at the wheel in a white uniform, and the swag neatly shrouded in the back. The only problem was changing cars, and Parker had that one figured, too. So, they’d find an abandoned ambulance. Who was to know who’d been driving it? Because by that time Parker and the other six would be back at the hideaway divvying up the loot!

When Donald E. Westlake assumes the mantle of Richard Stark the result is some of the fiercest, most electrifying crime fiction ever written. In FLASHFIRE the author of the legendary Parker series of noir crime novels, and the man behind such classic films as Point Blank and Payback, returns. This time Parker, ignited by betrayal, is heading for the swankest town in America. In a landlocked Midwestern city Parker calmly tosses a firebomb through a plate-glass window, while some newfound partners in crime take down a nearby bank. Making their getaway in the confusion, the bank robbers tell him two things: that this heist was only seed money for a much gaudier one, and that Parker has to loan them his share of the take. They should have given him his cut, or killed him. Because now Parker is rampaging through the American South, taking on a new identity as he goes, planning his own assault on his former partners’ next target, a spectacular jewelry heist in Palm Beach. But Parker didn’t count on one unfortunate detail. A very bad and very stupid man knows his true identity, and wants him dead. On the most heavily guarded island in the world it will all come together: the hit men, the diamonds, the plan, and the blonde real estate agent who’s wandered into the middle of it all. When the explosions start and the heat comes down, the best laid plans of thieves, killers, and schemers all go out the window — and Parker is on his own

When Donald E. Westlake is funny, he is very, very funny. And when Westlake is Richard Stark, he is very, very bad... Now the creator of the ultimate career criminal — a man known only as Parker — returns with a new experience in noir. This time, Parker gets caught red-handed. And for Parker, once is never enough. In a drab, hulking warehouse in a hulking, drab city in the center of an empty state, Parker is caught moving pharmaceuticals into a waiting truck. Led into a joint called Stoneveldt — from which no one has ever escaped — Parker has to find a way out, before his whole violent past catches up with him. And getting out of Stoneveldt means taking on the only partners he can find, including one who is already planning his next job. For Parker and his fellow jailbreakers, freedom is just another word for committing their next felony. They pull off the perfect jailbreak and then start the perfect heist. But things go south in a hurry — leaving three men dead and Parker and his fellow escape artists scratching, clawing, and running for their lives. Suddenly, the big, drab city in the big, empty Midwestern state has become a prison. A cast of cops, busybodies, snitches, and weak links have turned into jailers. And for Parker, the ultimate jailbreak is about to begin. A taut, twisting, perfectly timed ballet of bad intentions, blind alleys, and bad luck, BREAKOUT is Richard Stark par excellence. Because when it comes to getting into places where he shouldn’t be, and out of places where he should be, Parker is the best bad man in town

Master criminal Parker takes another turn for the worse as he tries to recover loot from a heist gone terribly wrong. In Nobody Runs Forever, Parker and two cohorts stole the assets of a bank in transit, but the police heat was so great they could only escape If they left the money behind. In this follow-up novel, Parker and his associates plot to reclaim the loot, which they hid in the choir loft of an unused country church. As they implement the plan, people on both sides of the law use the forces at their command to stop Parker and grab the goods for themselves. Though Parker’s new getaway van is an old Ford Econoline with “Holy Redeemer Choir” on its doors, his gang is anything but holy, and Parker will do whatever it takes to redeemer his prize, no matter who gets hurt in the process