Net Force - Tom Clancy [7]
Net Force had access to the highest technological resources on the planet, the fastest computers on the net, a wealth of information beyond measure. The agents on-line and in the field were also the best and brightest, culled from the cream of the FBI, the NSA, the nations top universities and police and military agencies. And none of it would help if the assassins hadnt made some kind of mistake. If Net Force didnt get some kind of break. Michaels had been in the business too long to try to pretend otherwise.
Then again, even professional killers werent perfect.
Now and then, they did slip up. And if theyd made the slightest slip here, something so small it could only have been seen with an electron microscope, Alex Michaels was going to move the entire solar system if necessary to find it.
His virgil cheeped.
Yes?
Alex? Walt Carver.
Michaels let another small sigh escape. Walter S. Carver, Director of the FBI. Hed been expecting the call.
Yes, sir.
Im sorry about Steve. Anything to report?
Michaels gave his boss what they had. When he was done, Carver said, All right. Weve got a meeting with the President and his National Security Team at 0730 at the White House. Put together what weve got. Youll be doing the presentation.
Yes, sir.
Oh, and as of now, youre Acting Commander of Net Force.
Sir, I-
Carver cut him off. I know, I know, but I need somebody in the chair and youre him. I dont mean to sound dismissive of Steves death, but Net Force is responsible for a whole lot more than one mans fate, no matter who he might be. Everybody will bump up a notch, Toni will take your old job. Ill need the President to sign off on it, but we should be able to get you confirmed as Commander in a few days.
Sir-
I need you here, Alex. You arent going to let me down, are you?
Michaels stared at the virgil. He didnt have any choice in this. Shook his head. No, sir. I wont let you down.
Good man. Ill see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep-you dont want to sound like a zombie when you lay this out. Full assassination protocols are in effect, you understand?
Yes, sir.
Go home, Alex.
Michaels stared at his car, at the bodyguard and chauffeur who stood watching and waiting. He had a little over six hours to put together a presentation for the President of the United States and his hard-nosed security advisors-not to mention Alexs own boss at the FBI-and supposedly get some rest, too. That last part sure wasnt going to happen.
He shook his head. About the time you thought you were in control, life sure had a way of setting you straight. Think youre in charge, pal? Here, chew on this: Your immediate superior just got murdered, probably by the Mob, you just got promoted, and tomorrow, a presentation to the most powerful man in the world will probably make or break your career. How does that make you feel?
Like shit, Michaels said aloud.
A traffic cop nearby said, Excuse me?
Nothing, Michaels said.
He headed for his car.
Home, Commander? his driver said.
Commander.
The driver already knew about the promotion. Well. One thing was certain. Michaels was damn sure going to use that promotion to take care of this business. Steve Day was his friend.
Wrong. Day had been his friend. Michaels wasnt going home, no matter how tired he was.
No. To the office.
3
Wednesday, September 8th, 11:19 a.m. Grozny, Chechnya
Vladimir Plekhanov wiped some of the ever-present dust from the inside of his window and looked down upon the city. Despite the installation of air conditioners and weekly visits from a cleaning woman, there seemed always to be a layer of powder everywhere, fine as talcum, but much darker. Of course, the dust was just dirt now. He remembered a time when much of it had been soot from the crematoriums, the remains of soldiers, civilians and invading Russians. That was a long time ago, almost twenty years, but as he grew older he spent perhaps more time in his room of old memories than he should. Well. Even though he had much to live for yet, and a most rewarding future