The Last Spymaster – Photo Tour

Take your own personal photo tour of THE LAST SPYMASTER — a thriller in pictures.
Part of the thrill in a thriller is reading where all of this dangerous business of espionage takes place.  On this page, you can take an exciting visual trip through THE LAST SPYMASTER.  Bon voyage!
Glienicke Bridge – Berlin, Germany
In 1985, the last spymaster — Charles “Jay” Tice — helped to arrange a spy swap at Glienicker Brücke, “Bridge of Spies,” witness to many of the Cold War’s most crucial exchanges. This view shows the bridge in those days — “Glienicke Bridge” in English — from the American side.  It was a bridge leading nowhere, unused except for the infrequent official vehicle on a military mission between the Free West and the Communist East and the occasional vital prisoner trade.  Some exchanges were notorious and covered by the press; others were secret, as was this one.
Jaguar S-Type Sport 3.0
Okay, we’re being self-indulgent here.  We know this item isn’t exactly an exotic locale, but Gayle drives a red Jag just like this one.  She’s so sappy about it that she wrote it into THE LAST SPYMASTER, she loaned it to Elaine Cunningham, the CIA hunter who is assigned the dangerous and critical job of finding Jay Tice.  As it turns out, the Jag eventually plays a critical role.  “Controlling her excitement, Elaine drove her Jaguar — red, sleek, and sumptuous — across the Potomac River and into the District. As the beat of Headshear’s ‘Walking Tapestry’ pounded from her speakers, she reveled in the Jag’s power and balance, the seventeen-inch Herakles alloy wheels, the bird’s-eye maple dashboard, and the softer-than-skin leather upholstery. She knew her love affair with this lump of luxury was shallow, and she did not care. It whispered when it cruised, and it growled when poked awake. Who could resist that?”
 
Allenwood Federal Correctional Complex
Susquehanna Valley, Pennsylvania
After he pleaded nolo contendere to charges of treason, Jay Tice was imprisoned for life at Allenwood, a grim, fortresslike facility where some 4,000 prisoners were housed in a minimum-security camp, a medium-security lockup, and the high-security penitentiary. Armed guards patrolled. Double rows of barbed wire topped by coils of razor wire secured the perimeter. Still, somehow, Tice manages to escape — without leaving a trace.
DuPont Circle – Washington, D.C.
Just a mile northwest of the White House, the DuPont Circle neighborhood was where a secret CIA unit maintained a safehouse.  On her way to pick up her assignment, CIA hunter Elaine Cunningham “maintained her usual second-stage alert, studying buildings, the mass of cars, the mobs of pedestrians. A towering water fountain sparkled in the center of the parklike circle, while beneath it people jogged, drank caffe lattes, and played chess. The world looked safe and innocent. But it was not, which was why she always carried a weapon since Rafe’s death.”
Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland
Highly secure, Andrews Air Force Base is where Elaine catches a plane to investigate Tice’s disappearance from Allenwood.  “The air was dry and cool, the ventilation system breathy in the aging Gulfstream II. Elaine Cunningham sat beside a window, the only passenger in the twelve-seat turbojet, waiting impatiently.”
Franklin Park – Washington, D.C.
As Elaine closes in on the spymaster, she almost loses her life in leafy Franklin Square at twilight.  “At Eye Street, she peeled off into the square, frequent site of protests and rallies, hoping for a crowd. One advantage of her small size was she could lose herself more easily than most. The park was spacious and open, with shallow steps and sloping sidewalks — but no large gathering. An elderly couple walked a pair of leashed dachshunds. A woman dressed in Muslim hejab — veil, scarf, and long coat — held the hand of a little boy as they strolled toward Thirteenth. A teenage boy in baggy shorts and a skull cap soared past on Rollerblades. Homeless people lounged on benches.”
Jurys Washington Hotel
Washington, D.C.
Ever vigilant, Elaine tracks the spymaster to DuPont Circle.  “Tice crossed the intersection and headed toward Jurys Washington Hotel — a good place to meet someone. She loped after, joining some tourists, and followed Tice’s slouched cap and catlike walk into the spacious stone-framed lobby and through the milling crowd and along a hall where he slipped in among a cluster of guests. He vanished around the corner…”
Gravelly Point, Virginia
A very important clandestine meeting between an arms dealer and his contact occurs at night in this little-known park on the banks of the Potomac River near Reagan International Airport.  “As expected at this late hour in mid-week April, the tree-dotted park was empty. He climbed out, buttoning his suit jacket over his barrel chest…. He found the man standing on the grassy bank, backlighted by the shimmering white monuments and buildings of Washington on the other shore. A passenger jet hurtled through the air toward them, engines howling, hot wind baking their faces. There was no way they could talk, so they watched it pass overhead a bare hundred feet, so fast the Doppler effect made an audible bang. Percussive crackling noises trailed the jet across the river’s black surface.”
Old Town – Geneva, Switzerland
Former Stasi spy Raina Manhardt is in Geneva, investigating her son’s death.  “In an old apartment building off the Rue Madeleine, she stopped at the window of her son’s dark flat and pushed back the curtain as bolts of silver lightning speared the distant Alps. Thunderheads billowed across the black night sky. The scent of ozone was oppressive. His room was on the fourth floor, overlooking the labyrinth of winding streets and steepled rooftops of Geneva’s Old Town, the Vieille Ville, but Raina focused on the sleeping street below. Someone was staked out in the recessed doorway of the fromage shop. When he stepped forward to shift his position, she could see the toes of his shoes in the lamplight.”
Place du Bourg-de-Four – Geneva
Raina Manhardt has a very important meeting here at 3:00 a.m., where centuries-old buildings stand fang to jowl, looming around the medieval plaza. “Warmed by drink, ruddy-faced tourists and locals ambled past the fountain and green park benches and leafless trees. From the network of old side avenues sounded a weary American blues tune…. Ahead, a woolen cap rose from a sunken entry to a dark art gallery. It was Raoul Harmont. His eyes were large and nervous as he peered around then saw her…. He sank from sight. He was behaving exactly as planned. Still, he was an amateur. The most dangerous part of an operation was when information was exchanged, which was why dead drops were vital. Harmont had refused. He would not release the tapes until he had her 1,000 Swiss francs.”
CIA Headquarters – Langley, Virginia
The CIA plays a masterful role in THE LAST SPYMASTER.  When Jay Tice was arrested for treason, his protege, Laurence Litchfield was promoted to take his place as Deputy Director of Operations, in charge of all of the legendary agency’s clandestine missions.  “The lights of CIA headquarters were ablaze in the dark Virginia night. Still in his tuxedo, Litchfield strode along the seventh floor, hands clasped behind his back. Voices occasionally sounded from behind closed doors. This floor contained the offices of the director, the executive director, the top three deputy directors, including himself, and various other officials and support staff. This was the soul of U.S. intelligence, where security was as integral as arteries. Seldom could anyone — even he — find fault. Windows were configured with state-of-the-art devices to prevent eavesdropping with laser beams. Special cipher locks sealed empty offices, recording each person who entered. If someone unauthorized managed to get in, heat sensors and motion detectors would trigger alarms that brought security running, weapons ready.”
Montgomery County, Maryland
A retired spy has a tip that will lead him to critical information.  “The long private drive looped through the heart of hunt country, past bushy verges and green pastures and woodlots. Studying the area, he parked on a grassy shoulder. Across the road, a high white stucco wall extended to the horizon in both directions, protecting the death merchant’s sprawling modern house. He locked his weapons into his trunk.”
The Beltway – Washington, D.C.
One of the primary transportation routes in Washington is the Beltway that encircles the encircles the city, passing through both Maryland and Virginia.  “Vehicles whipped past at blinding speeds. Red taillights streamed ahead in a bloody river.  She floored the gas in a swift kickdown. The Jag shot forward like a jet, driving them into their seats.  He angled so he could study a black sedan — a powerful Lincoln — that had broken out of traffic and swung into the lane behind them. It was coming up fast.  She moved the Jag left, into the next lane. The Lincoln’s nose made a sudden rush to squeeze in behind again. She swore loudly and braked. At the last second, the Lincoln swerved away, tires squealing, barely missing the Jag’s fender.”
Outside Herndon, Virginia
As the title suggests, THE LAST SPYMASTER is a riveting story of spies and moles, loyalty and treachery.  Near the midpoint, we meet a group of five operatives, mostly retired, who gather in a hidden lair.  “Elaine wheeled the Jag onto a stone bridge where a sign announced ‘Private Property — Keep Out’ and drove on through tangled woodland into a glen where old stone buildings from the nineteenth century stood, arranged around a circular drive. Floodlights burst on. Before she could turn off the ignition, he was out of the car.  She hurried after.  When the front door opened, she stared, surprised, and smiled grimly to herself: Now she knew who had enabled Jay Tice’s escape.”
The Maine Avenue Fish Wharf – Washington, D.C.
Located in southwest Washington, the Fish Wharf is one of the city’s best-kept secrets.  Here is where Jay Tice and Raina Manhardt, lovers during the Cold War, meet again — at last.  “In his tinted skin and baseball cap and sunglasses, Tice strolled beside the flatboats, his body slumped and deliberately old-looking, his hands loose and free, as he stayed aware of his holstered weapons, aware he saw Raina nowhere. He repressed disappointment and worry.”Abruptly, the barrel of a gun rammed sharply into his back. ‘So, old man, why shouldn’t I wipe you?’ The woman’s voice was a hot, angry whisper beneath his right ear.

“His lungs tightened.  He controlled an automatic urge to swing back and jam his elbow into her throat.  ‘Dammit, Raina.’ He kept his voice low. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing!'”
Port of Baltimore – Baltimore, Maryland
One of the busiest shipping hubs in the United States, the Baltimore port is the setting of a series of high-intensity action scenes near the end of THE LAST SPYMASTER. “She was motionless, surrounded on three sides by high loads of crates, as a man stepped briskly out from among them, an S&W pistol leading. His broad features were cool and shrewd.As if she were elastic, she spun on the ball of her right foot and, using her hips for power, shot her left foot back in a yoko kekomi thrust kick that landed hard against the big killer’s solar plexus.”

Jay was already around her. As the man staggered, Jay ripped away the S&W. But the barrel of another gun rammed Jay’s side.”

‘Forget it, Jay!’ the new man snapped. ‘You’re not going to get out of this one. Move!’ “Jay exchanged a look with her, and they walked slowly back out into the harsh lights.”
Aitutaki Atoll, the Cook Islands
Every novel should end in a beautiful place.  We’re not going to tell you exactly what finally happens in THE LAST SPYMASTER — that will ruin the adventure for you.  Still, feast your eyes on views of this stunning island, magnificent and remote, where surely those who wish to disappear can, and find some hard-earned happiness.


The Assassins The Book of Spies The Last Spymaster The Coil Mesmerized Mosaic Masquerade The Altman Code The Paris Option The Hades Factor
The Assassins The Book of Spies The Last Spymaster The Coil Mesmerized
Mosaic Masquerade The Altman Code The Paris Option The Hades Factor
Back to Top
© 2025 Gayle Lynds

Web Hosting Provided by Maine Hosting Solutions