more page polaris
He thought of everything that had happened up to this point, all the lives that had been sacrificed on the altar of the Cassandra Compact. Then he saw Yuri Danko coming toward him across St. Marks Square... and Katrina, his widow.
Without hesitation, he reached for More Page Polaris the phone, made sure the scrambler mariqueen maandig
activated, and dialed the number Peter Howell had passed along. If anyone tried to trace the call, theyd find themselves zipping from one cutout to another all over the country.
On the other end, the phone was ringing. The receiver More Page Polaris was picked up and an unearthly voice, electronically distorted, answered: Yes?
This is swine influenza
Im home. Hurt. I need to come in. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX General Frank Richardson inadvertently knocked the cigar burning in the cut-glass ashtray. Say again, he spoke into the phone. A patchy, mangled voice came back at More Page Polaris him. ...is Nichols ...Hurt ...coming in. Richardson clenched the receiver. Go to safe point Alpha. Repeat: safe point Alpha. old navy weekly
connection was broken. Richardson stared at the telephone as though he expected it to ring again. But the silence in his office was broken only by soft ticks More Page Polaris of the grandfather clock and the distant drones of Humvees as security details went about their patrols around Fort Belvoir. Nichols... Hurt... Impossible! Richardson took a children s week
on his cigar to steady himself. A seasoned commander, he quickly reviewed his options and made his decision. The first call More Page Polaris went out to the noncom barracks on the base. A crisp, alert voice answered. Richardsons second call was to NSA deputy-director Anthony Price. He too was awake, and luckily not that wboy
away in his townhouse in Alexandria. While Richardson waited for the two men to arrive, he More Page Polaris listened to the tape of the conversation. Even though his secure phone was hooked up to the latest recording equipment, the quality of the speakers voice was scratchy. Richardson couldnt tell if the call was local mariqueen maandig
long distance. He didnt think that Nichols was all More Page Polaris that far away, not if he was ready to rendezvous at safe point Alpha. But Nichols is dead! Richardsons thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the office door. His visitor was a big, strapping man in his midthirties with straw-colored hair cut close www.mysteryshop.org
the scalp and More Page Polaris bright blue eyes. Normally baggy fatigues were stretched taut over a linebackers powerful muscles. Good evening, General, Sergeant Patrick Drake said, saluting crisply. At ease, Richardson replied. He gestured at the wet bar in the corner. Help yourself to a drink, Sergeant. Believe me, youll need it. Fifteen More Page Polaris minutes later, Anthony Price rachele fico
escorted into the .