“Smith?” Smith heard Brand’s voice and felt a hand on his elbow guiding him. “You’re at an open car door. Watch your head.” Brand put his hand on top of Smith’s skull to help him clear the door panel. He crawled into the vehicle and sat back. The car door slammed, and Brand knocked on the car’s side. Someone put the car in motion.
“Air conditioning. My skin is on fire,” Smith said. His voice came out as a croak. “I can’t see.”
“The mustard gas?” It was Beckmann’s voice. “Hold on, I’m heading to a hospital.”
“You steal this car?” Smith said.
Smith heard Beckmann’s low laugh. “It’s the FBI’s. Even I’m not crazy enough to hot-wire a department vehicle.”
“Forget the hospital. Get me to an Army doctor with experience in mustard gas injuries and when he’s done get me home.”
55
Smith sat in front of his computer screen in the quiet of his kitchen early on a Sunday morning. The sores on his arms had healed within three weeks thanks to his rapid cleansing of the mustard gas, but his eyes were still mending. Bright light bothered him, and he wore sunglasses continuously when outside. He’d received word that Howell was recuperating as well, but at a much slower pace due to a higher level of exposure. Wendel told him that Jordan also was healing well, but wouldn’t return to active duty for at least another three months, and Russell checked in periodically. The decontamination of both the bacteria and the gas had gone well thanks to Ohnara, who had stepped up to assist with cleanup once it became clear that Smith could not.
He logged onto his e-mail and left the laptop whirring while he made a fresh pot of coffee. He heard the sound of his Internet phone ringing and headed back to the computer. It was Russell calling. He turned on the web camera.
“Good morning,” she said. She had been recuperating at an undisclosed location. In the past three weeks she’d gained back some of the weight she’d lost, and her skin was less pale. Smith held up his empty coffee cup.
“Good morning to you. How are you feeling?”
“Very good, and you?”
“Better. My eye doctor seems to think I’ll heal just fine. It’ll be nice to be able to walk around in the sun without getting a migraine. How’s Howell?”
“He checked himself out of the hospital and returned to his house in the mountains. Said he couldn’t take all the interruptions. I guess they woke him up late at night once too often.”
“Beckmann?”
“Back in Europe. And Brand says hello and to tell you that the man on the roof that Beckmann shot was another of Dattar’s crew. A man named Rajiid. And they were finally able to identify the bodies in the building as Bilal, Manderi, Dattar, and Harcourt.”
“Why’d he do it?”
“Harcourt?”
“Yes.”
Russell sighed. “Cromwell’s keeping a lot close to the vest since the news broke of the CIA and NYPD liaison. Seems as though the agency’s lawyers are screaming bloody murder. They claim the sharing program with the NYPD was never approved by them, and they’re afraid that it appears as though the CIA was engaging in domestic spying. The most I could get out of Cromwell is that Dattar had promised Harcourt and Manderi hundreds of millions of dollars and large tracts of land back in his country. Both men were deeply in debt. Apparently there’s also some evidence that Harcourt was intending to pull a double cross and turn Dattar over to the agency before the bacteria was placed. He’d then look like a hero.”
“Like the fireman who starts the fire so he can put it out?”
Russell sighed. “I guess so. And we’ve received intelligence that a group of countries may have been bankrolling Dattar. They call themselves the Janus Consortium. All of the countries deny it vehemently, of course.”
“Of course,” Smith said.
“And the large tracts of land that Dattar was promising actually belonged to the Reddings. Their utility holdings have been returned to them. Have you heard from Nolan?”
“Nothing.”
Russell shook her head. “For a civilian she does a pretty good job of dropping out of sight, doesn’t she?”
“That she does.”
“Well, enjoy your Sunday.”
“You, too.” Russell smiled at him and logged off. Smith went to the coffeepot to refill his cup. The pinging sound of an incoming message brought him back to the table.
The screen contained a picture of a stylized “KD” logo. Beneath it were the words:
“This is an automated message. Please do not reply. You have been sent 23,500 kilodollars mined from various points on the web for your use should you ever need them. Please click the link below to download them to your hard drive.” There was a hyperlink below the notice. Farther down was one word:
SAFE
Author’s Note
My first experience with Robert Ludlum’s novels was through my mother, who came home one day with his book The Matarese Circle and proceeded to read it while making dinner and preparing for work. She was a jazz singer in Chicago at the time and would vocalize in the early evening before heading to the clubs. Not so that day. That day she was silent, reading. She finished it in twenty-four hours and then raved as she passed it to me. From that novel, our mutual love of thrillers was born. My favorite was, and still is, The Bourne Identity. A nearly perfect plot for a thriller.
When I was asked to write this novel, I thought about what made Robert Ludlum’s books so fascinating. Pacing, certainly, and plot, yes, but also characters. You really cared if Jason Bourne would discover his true identity, and you worried along with him that what he would discover would be abhorrent to him. I wanted to write about Jon Smith with the same humanity, and I wanted to give him a high-stakes plot that also fit within our current worldview. I also wanted to add some interesting tidbits from the real world, and so while this book is fiction, there are two aspects that are not.
First, the “electric” bacteria Shewanella MR-1 is real and does colonize, conduct through metal, and breathe through tiny wirelike pili. The Navy has been testing it to determine if it has the ability to generate electricity. It does, and from what I could gather, testing appears to continue. I didn’t find any studies regarding weaponizing it as described in the novel, and I hope there never will be.
Second, Nolan’s mining and use of “kilodollars” are actually based on a currency system called “Bitcoins.” I read about Bitcoins in a Forbes article some time ago, and I find the idea of a virtual currency that can be mined from the Internet fascinating.
However, the hotel under attack in the beginning of the novel is fictional and its architecture is a mixture of several hotels in The Hague and in the suburb of Scheveningen. If you’re planning on visiting either location, you can sleep without worry.
I’d like to thank Mr. Kevin Ortiz of New York’s Metropolitan Transportation Authority for his assistance with some of the aspects of the New York subway system. While security considerations made it impossible for him to answer all of my questions, he helped me with facts and figures when he could. Any mistakes are mine.
I’d also like to thank my agent, Barbara Poelle; the Estate of Robert Ludlum, for giving me the opportunity to create a story using Mr. Ludlum’s characters; Henry Morrison, agent for the Estate; and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, for guiding me through the process. Thank you to my editor, Jaime Levine, for her astute insights and suggestions; my second editor, Mitch Hoffman, who picked up the reins so seamlessly; my production editor, Kallie Shimek; and my copy editor, Georgia Maas. As always, thank you to my family for their support and enthusiasm.
And lastly, to the late Mr. Robert Ludlum. It’s been an honor to play a small role in continuing his legacy. This book was a pleasure to write, and I hope that you enjoy reading it.
Jamie Freveletti
May 8, 2012
About the Authors
ROBERT LUDLUM was the author of twenty-seven novels, each one a New York Times bestseller. There are more than 225
million of his books in print, and they have been translated into thirty-two languages. He is the author of The Scarlatti Inheritance, The Chancellor Manuscript, and the Jason Bourne series—The Bourne Identity, The Bourne Supremacy, and The Bourne Ultimatum—among others. Mr. Ludlum passed away in March 2001. To learn more, visit www.Robert-Ludlum.com.
JAMIE FREVELETTI is the internationally bestselling and award-winning author of Running from the Devil, Running Dark, and The Ninth Day, which was named one of the “Best Thrillers of 2011” by Suspense Magazine and “Best of Chicago” by the Chicago Tribune. A trial attorney with a diploma in international studies, she is an avid distance runner and holds a black belt in Aikido, a Japanese martial art. She lives in Chicago with her family.
FB2 document info
Document ID: af72f590-af86-4d9d-8f45-f4286b045623
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 5.5.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.29, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Jamie Freveletti
Document history:
1.0 — создание документа fb2
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
The Janus Reprisal c-9 Page 34