Dark Zone (42 page)
Authors: Stephen Coonts
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Intelligence Officers, #Suspense Fiction, #Intelligence service, #National security, #Undercover operations, #Cyberterrorism
Eventually being many, many years in the future.
“So what happened at the Eiffel Tower?” asked Dean. “Was that a diversion?”
“On the contrary. It appears to have been a related attack, and very real. Monsieur Duoar was quite a planner. He wanted to see a crescendo of terror. The tower plot was foiled with the help of Mr. Karr,” continued Rubens. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen the video of him hanging upside down from the third
étage
. French television has been playing it nonstop for the past four hours.”
“You kidding?”
“I do not kid, Charlie. I leave that for others.” Rubens broke the connection.
He was in his office when the attorney, Ms. McGovern, finally returned his call back to her.
“Mr. Rubens, good time?”
“It is,” he said.
“You sound tired.”
“A little.”
“That attack in France, and the Chunnel—it sounds incredible.”
“Oh? I haven’t had a chance to check the news.”
“Terrorists attacked the Eiffel Tower and the Chunnel,” she told him. “It sounds terrible.”
“I’m sure.” He turned away from the desk, looking toward the chair that sat in the corner of his office. It was a leather club chair that had once belonged to the General.
“The judge made his decision,” said McGovern. “I told you he would move quickly.”
Rubens waited, but instead of telling him what the decision was, she changed the subject.
“You have Rebecca’s letter?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Rubens.
He’d lost. So be it.
“That’s a good sign, don’t you think?” said McGovern. “She does love her father. She’s just concerned about him.”
“Yes,” said Rubens.
“The judge saw no reason to go against the General’s wishes,” she told him. “You were appointed.”
Oddly, it didn’t feel like much of a victory.
115
Karr knew there was someone in the room with him, but it seemed to take forever to open his eyes. When he finally did, he saw not a person but an angel floating at the side of the bed: Deidre Clancy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.”
“Hey,” he said again, sliding up on his elbows. “Whoa, that hurts.”
“It shouldn’t. Your blood’s fifty percent Demerol.”
“See, that’s where the doctors always get it wrong,” said Karr, easing back down. “Give me a good pint of Guinness stout and nothing would bother me.”
“Take more than a pint.”
“Probably.”
“You’re a national hero, you know. The French are calling you the American Golden Bear.”
“Yeah?”
“You and your friends in the Chunnel.”
“Which?”
Karr listened as Deidre told him about Lia and Dean, who had been pulled out after foiling a plot to explode a nuclear device in the Chunnel.
“The French President claims it wouldn’t have exploded anyway,” added Deidre. “But that sounds pretty political. And French. Want me to move the bed? You have a lift thing in the back.”
He grimaced as the bed moved, but it did feel better.
“They have guards on your door to keep the media away,” she told him.
“Really?”
“I’m not kidding. I think they have orders to shoot to kill.”
“So how’d you get in? Your dad?”
“I tried that, but it didn’t work. So I told a little white lie.”
“Like?”
“I said I was your fiancée.”
Karr started to laugh. His ribs had been broken and he started to wheeze and cough—and laugh even harder.
“You don’t have one, do you?” she asked.
“Well, maybe now.”
116
In the dream, she was back in Korea. She was powerless to do anything, completely unable to resist. He and his henchmen dragged her to the little room. She began to scream, but no one came and the men began to pummel her.
“Hey.”
Lia shook herself awake, practically jumping out of the seat. She was in an airplane with Charlie Dean—an Air Force VIP jet that had been used to take the Secretary of State to France. It had been detailed to take them home at the President’s direct order.
“Bad dream?” asked Dean, sitting across from her.
A dream? Yes. A nightmare. And more.
She’d gotten past it. Whether that was good or not—what that really meant—she didn’t know.
“Hey, did you have a dream or what?” Dean asked again.
“None of your business, Charlie Dean.”
He grabbed her arm. “You are my business,” he said.
She frowned but then said softly, “Just a dream.”
STEPHEN COONTS
As a naval aviator,
STEPHEN COONTS
flew combat missions during the Vietnam war. A former attorney and the author of thirteen
New York Times
bestselling novels, he resides with his wife and son in Nevada. He maintains a Web site at
www.coonts.com
.
Deep Black
co-author
JIM DEFELICE’S
most recent solo effort is
Cyclops One.
He lives in upstate New York and can be reached at
[email protected].
Table of Contents
Praise
Title Page
Copyright Page
Authors’ Note
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
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
