by Tom Clancy
ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
FICTION
The Hunt for Red October
Red Storm Rising
Patriot Games
The Cardinal of the Kremlin
Clear and Present Danger
The Sum of All Fears
Without Remorse
Debt of Honor
Executive Orders
Rainbow Six
The Bear and the Dragon
Red Rabbit
The Teeth of the Tiger
Dead or Alive (with Grant Blackwood)
Against All Enemies (with Peter Telep)
Locked On (with Mark Greaney)
Threat Vector (with Mark Greaney)
Command Authority (with Mark Greaney)
Tom Clancy Support and Defend (by Mark Greaney)
Tom Clancy Full Force and Effect (by Mark Greaney)
Tom Clancy Under Fire (by Grant Blackwood)
Tom Clancy Commander in Chief (by Mark Greaney)
Tom Clancy Duty and Honor (by Grant Blackwood)
NONFICTION
Submarine: A Guided Tour Inside a Nuclear Warship
Armored Cav: A Guided Tour Inside an Armored Cavalry Regiment
Fighter Wing: A Guided Tour of an Air Force Combat Wing
Marine: A Guided Tour of a Marine Expeditionary Unit
Airborne: A Guided Tour of an Airborne Task Force
Carrier: A Guided Tour of an Aircraft Carrier
Into the Storm: A Study in Command
with General Fred Franks, Jr. (Ret.), and Tony Koltz
Every Man a Tiger: The Gulf War Air Campaign
with General Chuck Horner (Ret.) and Tony Koltz
Shadow Warriors: Inside the Special Forces
with General Carl Stiner (Ret.) and Tony Koltz
Battle Ready
with General Tony Zinni (Ret.) and Tony Koltz
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
Publishers Since 1838
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street
New York, New York 10014
Copyright © 2016 by The Estate of Thomas L. Clancy, Jr.; Rubicon, Inc.; Jack Ryan Enterprises, Ltd.; and Jack Ryan Limited Partnership
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
Ebook ISBN 9780698410664
Maps by Jeffrey L. Ward
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
CONTENTS
Also by Tom Clancy
Title Page
Copyright
Principal Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Epilogue
About the Author
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT
Jack Ryan: President of the United States
Scott Adler: Secretary of state
Mary Pat Foley: Director of national intelligence
Robert Burgess: Secretary of defense
Jay Canfield: Director of the Central Intelligence Agency
Dan Murray: Attorney general
Andrew Zilko: Secretary of homeland security
Arnold Van Damm: President Ryan’s chief of staff
Stuart Collier: CIA operations officer
Benjamin Kincaid: U.S. Department of State consular official
Barbara Pineda: Analyst, Defense Intelligence Agency
Jennifer Kincaid: CIA operations officer
Thomas Russell: Assistant special agent in charge, FBI Chicago Division; director of Joint Terrorism Task Force
David Jeffcoat: Supervisory special agent, Federal Bureau of Investigation
U.S. MILITARY
Carrie Ann Davenport: Captain, United States Army; copilot/gunner of AH-64E Apache
Troy Oakley: Chief warrant officer 3, United States Army; pilot of AH-64E Apache
Scott Hagen: Commander, United States Navy; captain of USS James Greer (DDG-102)
Wendell Caldwell: General, United States Army; commanding officer of United States Central Command
THE CAMPUS
Gerry Hendley: Director of The Campus and Hendley Associates
John Clark: Director of operations
Domingo “Ding” Chavez: Senior operations officer
Dominic “Dom” Caruso: Operations officer
Jack Ryan, Jr.: Operations officer / senior analyst
Gavin Biery: Director of information technology
Adara Sherman: Director of transportation
Helen Reid: Pilot of Campus Gulfstream G550
Chester “Country” Hicks: Copilot of Campus Gulfstream G550
OTHER CHARACTERS
Dr. Cathy Ryan: First Lady of the United States
Dr. Olivia “Sally” Ryan: Daughter of President Jack Ryan
Xozan Barz
ani: Kurdish Peshmerga commander
Sami bin Rashid: Security official, Gulf Cooperation Council
Abu Musa al-Matari: Yemeni national / Islamic State operative
Vadim Rechkov: Russian citizen in U.S. on a student visa
Dragomir Vasilescu: Director of Advanced Research Technological Designs (ARTD)
Alexandru Dalca: Researcher for ARTD; open-source investigations expert
Luca Gabor: Romanian prison inmate; identity intelligence expert
Bartosz Jankowski: Lieutenant colonel (Ret.) U.S. Army; call sign “Midas”; ex–Delta Force operator
Edward Laird: Former CIA executive; intelligence community contractor
“Algiers”: Algerian ISIS operative
“Tripoli”: Libyan ISIS operative
Rahim: Leader of ISIS cell “Chicago”
Omar: Leader of ISIS cell “Detroit”
Angela Watson: Leader of ISIS cell “Atlanta”
Kateb Albaf: Leader of ISIS cell “Santa Clara”
David Hembrick: Leader of ISIS cell “Fairfax”
1
The man sitting in the restaurant with his family had a name familiar to most everyone in America with a television or an Internet connection, but virtually no one recognized him by sight—mainly because he went out of his way to keep a low profile.
And this was why he found it so damn peculiar that the twitchy man on the sidewalk kept staring at him.
Scott Hagen was a commander in the U.S. Navy, which certainly did not make one famous, but he had earned distinction as the captain of the guided missile destroyer that, according to many in the media, almost single-handedly won one of the largest sea battles since the Second World War.
The naval engagement with the United States and Poland on one side and the Russian Federation on the other had taken place just seven months earlier in the Baltic Sea, and while it had garnered the name Commander Scott Hagen significant recognition at the time, Hagen had conducted no media interviews, and the only image used of him in the press featured him standing proudly in his dress blues with his commander-white officer hat on his head.
Right now, in contrast, Hagen wore a T-shirt and flip-flops, cargo shorts, and a couple days’ stubble on his face, and no one in the world, certainly no one in this outdoor Mexican café in New Jersey, could possibly associate him with that Department of the Navy–distributed photo.
So why, he wondered, was the dude with the creepy eyes and the bowl cut standing in the dark next to the bicycle rack constantly glancing his way?
This was a college town, the guy was college-aged, and he looked like he could have been drunk. He wore a polo shirt and jeans, he held a beer can in one hand and a cell phone in the other, and it seemed to Hagen that about twice a minute he glared across the lighted patio full of diners and over to Hagen’s table.
The commander wasn’t worried, really—more curious. He was here with his family, and his sister’s family, eight in all, and everyone else at the table kept talking and eating chips and guacamole while they waited for their entrées. The kids had soft drinks, while Hagen’s wife, his sister, and his brother-in-law downed margaritas. Hagen himself was sticking with soda because it was his night to drive the clan around in the rented van.
They were here in town for a club soccer tournament; Hagen’s seventeen-year-old nephew was a star keeper for his high school team, and the finals were the following afternoon. Tomorrow Scott’s wife would drive the rental so her husband could tip back some cold brews at a restaurant after the match.
Hagen ate another chip and told himself the drunk goofball was nothing to worry about, and he looked back to the table full of his family.
There were many costs associated with military service, but none of them were more important than time. The time away from family. None of the birthdays or holidays or weddings or funerals that were missed could ever be replaced in the lives of those who served.
Like many men and women in the military, Commander Scott Hagen didn’t see enough of his family these days. It was part of the job, and the times he could get away, get his own kids someplace with their cousins, were few and far between, so he knew to appreciate this night.
Especially since it had been such a tough year.
After the battle in the Baltic and the slow sail of his crippled vessel back across the Atlantic, he’d put the USS James Greer in dry dock in Norfolk, Virginia, to undergo six months of repairs.
Hagen was still the officer in command of the Greer, so Norfolk was home, for now. Many in the Navy thought dry dock was the toughest deployment, because there was a lot of work to do on board, ships did not regularly run their air conditioners, and many other creature comforts were missing.
But Scott Hagen would never make that claim. He’d seen war up close, he’d lost men, and while he and his ship had come out the unquestionable victors, the experience of war was nothing to envy, even for the victorious.
Russia was quiet now, more or less. Yes, they still controlled a significant portion of Ukraine, but the Borei-class nuclear sub they’d sent to patrol off the coast of the United States had allowed itself to be seen and photographed north of the coast of Scotland on its return voyage to port in Sayda Inlet, north of the Arctic Circle.
And the Russian troops that had rolled into Lithuania had since rolled back over Russia’s border to the west and to the Belarusian border to the east, ending the attack on the tiny Baltic nation.
The Russians had been embarrassed by their defeat in the Baltic, and it would certainly surprise everyone in this outdoor Mexican restaurant in New Jersey to know that the average-looking dad sitting at the big table under the umbrellas had played a big part in that.
Hagen was fine with the anonymity. The forty-four-year-old was a pretty low-profile guy, anyway. He didn’t hang out with his family in his uniform and regale them with tales of combat on the high seas. No, right now he goofed off with his kids and his nephews, and he joked with his wife that if he ate any more chips and guacamole before dinner, he’d sleep in tomorrow and miss game time.
He and his wife laughed, and then his brother-in-law, Allen, got his attention. “Hey, Scotty. Do you know that guy over there on the sidewalk?”
Hagen shook his head. “No. But he’s been eyeing this table for the past few minutes.”
Allen said, “Any chance he served under you or something?”
Hagen looked back. “Doesn’t look familiar.” He thought it over for a moment and then said, “This is too weird. I’m going to go talk to him and see what’s up.”
Hagen pulled the napkin from his lap, stood up, and began walking toward the man, moving through the busy outdoor café.
The young man turned away before Scott Hagen could make it halfway to him, then he dropped his beer in a garbage can and walked quickly out onto the street.
He crossed the dark street and disappeared into a busy parking lot.
When Hagen got back to the table Allen said, “That was odd. What do you think he was doing?”
Hagen didn’t know what to think, but he did know what he needed to do. “I didn’t like the look of that guy. Let’s play it safe and get out of here. Take everybody inside to the restaurant, use the back door, and go to the van. I’ll stay behind and pay the bill, then take a cab back to the hotel.”
His sister, Susan, heard all this, but she had no clue what was going on. She hadn’t even noticed the young man. “What’s wrong?”
Allen addressed both families now. “Okay, everybody. No questions till we get to the van, but we have to leave. We’ll get room service back at the hotel.”
Susan said, “My brother gets nervous if he’s not sailing around with a bunch of nukes.”
The James Greer did not carry nuclear weapons, but Susan was a tax lawyer, and she didn’t know any better, and Hagen was too busy to correct her because he was in
the process of grabbing a passing waiter to get the bill.
Both families were annoyed to be rushed out of the restaurant with full plates of food on the way, but they realized something serious was going on, so they all complied.
Just as the seven started moving toward the back door, Hagen turned and saw the young man again. He was crossing the two-lane street, heading back toward the outdoor café. He wore a long gray trench coat now, and was obviously hiding something underneath.
Hagen had given up on Allen’s ability to manage the family, and Susan wasn’t proving to be terribly aware, either. So he turned to his wife. “Through the restaurant! Run! Go!”
Laura Hagen grabbed her daughter and son, pulled them to the back door. Hagen’s sister and brother-in-law followed close behind with their two boys in front of them.
Then Hagen started to follow, but he slowed, watched in horror as the man on the sidewalk hoisted an AK-47 out from under his coat. Others in the outdoor café saw this as well; it was hard to miss.
Screams and shouts filled the air.
With his eyes locked on Commander Scott Hagen, the young man continued walking into the outdoor café, bringing the weapon to his shoulder.
Hagen froze.
This can’t be real. This is not happening.
He had no weapon of his own. This was New Jersey, so even though Hagen was licensed to carry a firearm in Virginia and could do so legally in thirty-five other states, he’d go to prison here for carrying a gun.
It was of no solace to him at all that the rifle-wielding maniac ahead was in violation of this law by shouldering a Kalashnikov in the middle of town. He doubted the attacker was troubled that in addition to the attempted murder of the one hundred or so people in the garden café in front of him he’d probably also be cited by the police for unlawful possession of a firearm.
Boom!
Only when the first shot missed and exploded into a decorative masonry fountain just four feet to his left did Scott Hagen snap out of it. He knew his family was right behind him, and this knowledge somehow overpowered his ability to duck. He stayed big and broad, using his body to cover for those behind, but he did not stand still.
He had no choice. He ran toward the gunfire.
The shooter snapped off three rounds in quick succession, but the chaos of the moment caused several diners to knock over tables and umbrellas, to get in his way, even to bump up against him as they tried to flee the café. Hagen lost sight of the man when a red umbrella tipped between the two of them, and this only spurred him on faster, thinking the attacker’s obstructed view could give Hagen a chance to tackle the man before getting shot.