Hunter (In the Company of Snipers Book 14)

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Hunter (In the Company of Snipers Book 14) Page 39

by Irish Winters

“How can we be sure he’s lost his advantage?” Eric wanted to know. Terrorists enjoyed broadcasting their acts of bloodlust and perverted cruelty. Beheadings on live television guaranteed a grim kind of respect, notoriety, and an influx of stupid, idealistic recruits.

  Alex eyed Eric a full minute before he spoke. “Ember’s monitoring all newsfeeds out of the Mideast in case he made a copy, but our source, Finn Powers, was pretty sure he didn’t.”

  “There hasn’t been a word of this murder on any news network yet,” Ember assured Eric. “Our State Department hasn’t caught wind of it, either. I called one of my friends to be sure.”

  Not like that meant anything. The State Department didn’t often offer up intelligence until they had to. The CIA, either. Both federal agencies might know what went down in Amsterdam, but the world wouldn’t until top-secret records were declassified decades in the future. Hell, this could be one of their undercover operations gone horribly wrong for all anyone knew.

  Mother expelled a breath slowly in one long sigh through her pursed lips.

  “What are you not telling us?” Eric asked her directly. “What’s really going on? Why kill Berglund to get at Finn?”

  She clenched her chin in her fist, breathing hard before she blurted it out. “Finn told me that he and his friends were in trouble. They were onto something big. Maybe illegal.”

  “What’d they hack into?” Eric growled, hating that someone from The TEAM might have to put his life in danger to save people who took stupid chances.

  “Nothing. This isn’t about hacking as far as I know, but Hugh Carlson paid them a visit at the university. He made all three of them impressive job offers if they’d work for him. When they refused, he threatened to steal their invention from them.”

  “Hugh Carlson? The narcissist billionaire from France? Why? What’s so great about this—” Eric waved his hand at the blank screen. “—Dynamic energy displacement thing?”

  Mother gulped. The woman should never go into black ops, not the way LIAR lit up in her eyes like it did.

  “For hell’s sake, tell him,” Alex growled. “If you want Eric to save your boyfriend, tell him everything he needs to know.”

  With another deep breath, Mother spilled. “You won’t believe it, but they’ve built the perfect force field.” She swallowed hard. “I know this sounds like science fiction, but it’s not. Dynamic energy displacement is a naturally occurring repulsion. Think of DED like a giant magnet with north and south poles. Two magnets attract each other when their opposing poles align. It’s basic science.”

  Great. Another acronym. DED. How appropriate.

  “And they repulse each other when you force north to north or south to south. Got that.” Eric nodded. “The laws of natural attraction and repulsion, but how does that equate to a force field?”

  “Because these three guys created a unique amplifier that boosts that natural attraction or repulsion. They’ve found a way to compress that energy, turning it into a—”

  “Jesus Christ. A weapon,” Eric finished for her. “Carlson wants the weaponized version of whatever they created, doesn’t he?”

  She nodded, her clattering nails enough to drive a man crazy. “Yes. It could be used as a weapon. In fact—”

  “It could effectively be used as a long-range laser, nearly as powerful as a controlled solar flare—if what Finn told Mother is correct,” Alex interrupted, two fingertips to his left temple. The man dealt with horrendous migraines, something Eric could help with if he’d let him.

  “Carlson is dangerous. You’ve all heard his tag line: One Nation. One Network. One World. He believes the man-made constraints of nation, country, and state have fallen to the wayside. They’re obsolete. Like castles and national borders.” Alex paused, his brows furrowed and the cords in his neck rigid. He made marble look relaxed. “In his mind, cyber-technology is the go-to strategy for world domination of market resources. His world domination. Think about it. If not for Carlson’s CC, none of us would have cell service today, would we?”

  “Right.” Eric got that much. The CC, or Carlson’s Chip, as Carlson himself had named it, had done away with local cell providers in every country in a brilliant coup that monopolized the industry and took even know-it-all Wall Street by surprise. Hence the slogan: One Nation. One Network. One World. He also held a twisted and inflated opinion of himself and his abilities. The bastard was a genius, but he’d outright told the United Nations that he intended to take over the world. Get out of his way.

  Alex growled, “We won’t know the extent of his madness until we get Finn Powers and Gordie Mikkelson out of Amsterdam and into U.S. custody. The Secretary of Defense is willing to send his Seal Team operatives in, but Finn asked for you, Eric. By name. You’re lead on this op. Jordan will accompany. So tell me, how the hell do you know this guy?”

  Eric shrugged, as baffled as everyone else. The only connection to Finn was that last name. Powers. “Never met him in my life, Boss. Where is this Finn person now, and how do you know all this?”

  Mother glanced over her shoulder at Ember. “Show him.”

  Ember tapped her keyboard, bringing a final video to life on the overhead screen. Had to have been taken via Finn’s cell phone, and a cheap one at best. At least the bumbling oaf knew to set his phone down to take a steady video clip.

  An obese young man with Coke-bottle glasses peered into the screen. Unibrow. Crooked teeth. Big, wide nose. The guy was no looker. Typical geek type. Squinty-eyed. Unkempt. Probably talked techno-speak like Mother and Ember. Too bad he wasn’t as good looking as they were.

  Eric cringed when Finn stuck his face too close into the screen. Nose hairs. A boil or something that needed to be lanced on the end of his chin. This guy needed some serious time in the barber’s chair. One of those reality-show makeovers wouldn’t hurt. No way in hell was that guy related to Eric’s ex-wife.

  Finn’s quavering and very effeminate voice pitched across the room. “Sasha. You know that boss of yours? The one you’re always bragging about? I need him like uber fast. Time’s short.” He looked over his shoulder as if checking to see if he’d been followed. “Tell him to check his dedicated savings account, the one he uses to pay his personal taxes once a year. I transferred enough funds to get the job done. If that’s not enough to get me out of the country, I can get more. Help me, Sasha. They’re coming. Tell your boss to send his best. Send Eric!”

  Eric’s throat could not have gone any drier. He nearly rolled his eyes at the geeky term uber fast.

  Your best? Me? How the hell do you know me, ’cause I sure as hell don’t know you?

  “Three million dollars was deposited in my bank account at midnight overnight,” Alex said. “Ember tracked the transaction through a dozen Internet cafes and IP addresses scattered across the globe. Finn, or Mikkelson, or whoever sent it, is a damned good hacker, but the question is, where’d the money come from to begin with? I doubt three college kids had that much loose change laying around.”

  Eric lifted a palm for Alex to slow the information download. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve got two things going on here. Carlson wants the force field, and Abdul-Mutaal wants Finn. I get why Carlson wants Finn. He’s a rich bastard who wants the world, but what’s Abdul-Mutaal’s stake?”

  “Presumably the same thing.” Alex lowered his voice. “All we know now is that Finn needs protection, and we’ll give it to him. According to the timestamp on the video, Berglund died at sixteen hundred hours yesterday, and that puts us inside a very tight forty-eight hour window. An international flight will eat up most of what time’s left. Eric. Jordan. Gear up. You’re going to Amsterdam.”

  The jumbo jetliner dipped, jolting Eric back to the present thunderstorm outside his window and another bout of queasy nausea. He glanced at his companion agent, Jordan Hannigan, Army Ranger in his past life, directly across the aisle. He’d stretched his long legs under the seat ahead of him and was sound asleep. Had been since the flight left D.C.
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br />   Damn him.

  For what it was worth, Eric tightened his seat belt yet again. Three more hours to the land of windmills and Hell.

  If you enjoyed Hunter, check out the rest of the guys and gals In the Company of Snipers on Amazon.

  Also available on Amazon:

  King of Hearts, Deuces Wild Series, Book 1

  Smoke, Hearts and Ashes Series, Book 1

  Coming in 2017

  Eric, In the Company of Snipers, #15

  Sign up for my newsletter at IrishWinters.com for actionable intel on latest releases, giveaways, and upcoming events.

  About the Author

  Irish Winters is an award-winning author who dabbles in poetry, grandchildren, and rarely (as in extremely rarely) the kitchen. More prone to be outdoors than in, she grew up the quintessential tomboy on a farm in rural Wisconsin, spent her teenage years in the Pacific Northwest, but calls the Wasatch Mountains of Northern Utah home. For now.

  The wife of one handsome husband and mother of three perfect sons, Irish divides her time between writing at home, and traveling the country with her man while – writing. (Seriously, what else?)

  She believes in making every day count for something, and follows the wise admonition of her mother to, “Look out the window and see something!”

 

 

 


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