Эротические рассказы

Season of Harm. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Season of Harm - Don Pendleton


Скачать книгу
conducted an extensive investigation into financial accounts and networks known to be linked to the Triangle.”

      “By ‘extensive,’ she means ‘illegal,’” Wethers said with a faint smile.

      “Very.” Price glanced at Brognola, whose expression had gone sour. “Using Interpol and U.S. federal agency records as the jumping-off point, we’ve gotten to know the Triangle intimately, exposing portions of its operation, identifying links in the poppy production and heroin trafficking, and discovering certain key facts.” She looked to Delahunt.

      “First,” Delahunt said, “the Triangle operates a conventional bootlegging ring that appears to smuggle several different consumer products. Counterfeit designer clothing, the DVDs found in New Jersey, consumer electronics…it’s very extensive, perhaps the biggest ever to operate internationally.”

      “The Triangle is piggybacking the distribution of the heroin on the smuggling of their retail goods,” Price said. “They’re using the same network, but sheltering the more serious criminal activity with the bootlegging.”

      “It’s brilliant,” Blancanales put in. “Vice is always easier to understand than legitimate commercial activity. It offers a unique shield, for if the smuggling is discovered, those exposing it will be tempted to stop at the piracy, thinking they’ve found what there is to find.”

      “Bloody right,” McCarter said. “Nobody trusts a guy who says he’s got nothing to hide. But if you think you’ve found him out—”

      “You stop looking for whatever else he might be doing,” Blancanales finished. “Multiply that across an entire organization and you have a very clever strategy for covering the true depths of a criminal enterprise.”

      “Trickery of that type goes only so far, of course,” Brognola said. “That’s why the Triangle is so ready and willing to do violence to shield its activities. When discovered, they immediately hit, and hit hard, then fade from view. The method has served them well until now.”

      “What’s changed, Hal?” Schwarz asked.

      “I’ll answer that,” Price said. She tapped a couple of keys and an exploded-view mechanical drawing of a satellite appeared on the plasma screen opposite Brognola. “This,” she said, “is NetScythe. It’s an experimental military spy satellite developed by DoD in conjunction with some of the more brilliant boys and girls at NASA.”

      “What does it do?” Schwarz asked.

      Price nodded to Tokaido.

      “It is really very amazing,” Tokaido said, pointing to the plasma screen. “NetScythe uses a combination of fuzzy-logic algorithmic processing, digital satellite imaging and an advanced telescopic array very much influenced by the Hubble Space Telescope. This allows it to track targets on the ground, very specific targets that correspond to complicated threat or interest profiles developed by analysts on the ground.” He pointed to himself, to Wethers and to Delahunt. “By inputting our target criteria and our warning flags, we can have NetScythe track Triangle assets on the ground, from space. When those assets move, be they people, vehicles or people and vehicles moving to and from specified target profile locations, NetScythe’s heuristic meta-analysis can predict where those assets may move to next.”

      “Bloody hell,” McCarter said. “The thing predicts the future?”

      “In a way, perhaps,” Hunt Wethers said. “It’s a bit more complicated and not quite as definitive as that, but essentially, it will tell us how to get ahead of the Triangle’s operatives in order to target components of its organization. Much more important, analysis of the target assets may tell us where the links in the Triangle’s chain are located. We can use what we know to learn what we don’t know. With several Triangle assets designated, we can find others of which we were previously unaware.”

      “It’s the break we’ve needed to dig into the Triangle and root it out,” Brognola said. “But there are other considerations at play.”

      “Which brings us to the second very important piece of information we uncovered.” Price nodded once more to Delahunt.

      “The Triangle is funneling money, and large quantities of it, through several holding companies and multiple banks,” Delahunt said. “The money is finding its way to Aleksis Katzev.”

      “That Aleksis Katzev?” Blancanales asked.

      “The same,” Price said. She touched a key and the image of Russia’s strong-man president appeared on the plasma screen. “Aleksis Katzev. President of Russia. Former KGB operative, rumored to have Spetsnaz special forces training. Also linked to the deaths of several political rivals, often by poisoning, none successfully traced to Katzev or his operatives.”

      “In other words,” Encizo said, “not a very nice man.”

      “No,” Brognola put in. “Specifically, Katzev has been rattling sabers for months now, talking about recovering the glory days of the Soviet Union, and using the United States as the scapegoat that will pull the Russian people back together against a common foe. We believe Katzev is receiving funding from several known terrorist organizations, in fact, though the Triangle is by far his biggest investor.”

      “What do you mean by ‘rattling sabers,’ Hal?” T. J. Hawkins asked.

      “Russian naval assets and air power have been buzzing U.S. planes and ships in international waters off Russia for some time now,” Brognola said. “The hostilities are growing. Katzev gives a fiery speech just about every week on state television out of Moscow, too, usually working in references to the Great Satan that is the United States.”

      “Sounds like an old script,” Calvin James said.

      “But it works,” Brognola said. “Tensions between the U.S. and Russia are at an all-time high, and diplomatic relations are getting very close to breaking down. There’s some chance that this will subside after the elections, but there are no guarantees, and if Katzev secures another term, we have no way of knowing just how far he’ll take this.”

      “The Triangle,” Delahunt said, “apparently hopes to expand its operations farther into Russia, which is what it gains by funding Katzev. Katzev has strong ties to the Russian mafiya, and the Triangle won’t make any inroads without their say-so. They’re violent, but the mafiya are no strangers to protecting their turf. We all know just how interwoven organized crime is with Russian society. We’re basically seeing the opening steps of a business merger in the making.”

      “That’s a merger we need to prevent,” Price said. “There is, however, some hope that Katzev’s hold on Russia can be broken. He faces a hard fight in the country’s imminent national elections.” She tapped a key, and another man appeared on the plasma screen. He was younger, perhaps early forties, and dressed in a neatly tailored suit. “This is Yuri Andulov,” Price said. “He’s an experienced diplomat and a known friend to the West. He’s got a growing base of support in Russia. Polling data is unreliable and shows heavy favoritism to Katzev, the incumbent, but we believe Andulov may very well be slightly ahead.”

      “The problem,” Brognola said, “will be keeping him alive until the elections occur. Katzev’s enemies have a way of dropping dead from mysterious food poisonings or other ailments. One got cancer rather suddenly. Another disappeared completely, along with his family. Katzev plays for keeps, and it seems very doubtful he intends to go head to head with Andulov at the ballot box—not if he can take him out before it comes to that.”

      “More than one attempt has been made on his life, in fact,” Price said. “To now, his bodyguards have kept him out of harm’s way, but the assassins only have to succeed once.”

      “I don’t have to tell you,” Brognola said, “that Katzev’s term of office has marked very difficult U.S.-Russia relations. Andulov could turn that around, normalize things between the two countries, and bring Russia back from the brink of open war with the West. Another Katzev term, by contrast, will very well take us to that precipice.”


Скачать книгу
Яндекс.Метрика