Breaking point - By Tom Clancy & Steve Perry & Steve Pieczenik Page 0,71

shot. An Alaska National Guard copter is on the way; he’s up near Gakona.”

He looked at his watch. It was six A.M. He needed to wash his face and to find Toni. What had John gotten into?

But before he could reach the door, his own com chirped its top-priority tone. He hurried to the receiver and picked it up. “John?”

“No, it’s Melissa Allison.”

The director. What was she doing up at this hour?

She didn’t give him time to wonder: “I just got a call from Adam Brickman in the U.S. Marshals office. One of his men was wounded in a shoot-out in Nowhere, Alaska, attempting to serve an arrest warrant authorized by your office. So was General John Howard. They are alive, just barely, on their way to a hospital in Anchorage, but Brickman isn’t happy. I’m not happy, either, Commander, because when he started chewing me out for not warning his people this was a shoot-sit, I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.”

Uh-oh. “I’m sorry, Madam Director, I didn’t realize there was any danger.”

“You sent marshals and the head of Net Force’s military arm to pick up somebody—which is outside your charter, unless there are special circumstances. I’m going to be in my office in forty minutes. I suggest you be there when I arrive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michaels said.

He cradled the receiver. Great. Just great. He had a federal marshal and John Howard shot up and the director of the FBI ready to tear him a new asshole. Great way to start the day, wasn’t it? Maybe if he was lucky, a big meteor would fall on him.

“Alex?”

Toni. “Hey,” he said.

“What’s up? The place feels as if it’s about to explode.”

He rubbed at his face with both hands. “Walk with me and I’ll fill you in.”

In the air over British Columbia

Because Ventura wanted to have a few words with the Chinese, he had Morrison’s phone when it rang. He used the headset, the engine and wind noise of the DC-3 being enough to interfere with hearing.

“Dr. Morrison?”

“No. Ventura.”

“Ah, Luther. How are you?”

“Why, I’m just fine, Chilly. Though I can’t say the same for your people. The feint was pretty good, but the follow-through was, well, sad. I expected better.”

There was a moment’s hesitation. Then Wu said, “Much as I’d like to turn this to my advantage, I have to confess I don’t know what you are talking about, Luther.”

“Come on, we’re professionals here, I don’t hold it against you, I realize it was just business.”

“Nope, sorry, I’m not tracking.”

Ventura considered it. There was no real reason for Wu to be coy. He knew that if they tried to snatch Morrison and failed, Ventura wouldn’t care; it was how things were done, they were men of the world here. “So you didn’t send people to, ah, have an informal chat with my client?”

“No.”

Ventura heard the “Not yet” in that single word, but he also had to stop and think real hard about the implications. Of course Wu would lie if it was to his advantage, that was to be expected. But Wu had to know he couldn’t gull anybody into believing that the Chinese were benevolent businessmen who’d never stoop to such a thing as kidnapping and torture. Sure, they’d pay if they had to pay, but if they could get what they wanted for free, they’d do it. They were as cheap as anybody else.

So lying wouldn’t serve him at this point—Ventura didn’t trust Wu as far as he could fly by flapping his arms, and Wu knew it. And if Wu hadn’t sent a team, then who were those men?

Had he just shot a couple of real federal marshals?

“Dr. Morrison is okay, isn’t he?” Wu asked. “No problems with our little transaction? We were quite impressed with the test. We are ready to get down to brass tacks.”

“He’s fine. Here he is.” Ventura waved at Morrison, who was listening to his half of the conversation. He held his thumb over the transmitter mike. “Wu. He’s ready to deal. And don’t get bent with him—he didn’t send his people after you. Those were legitimate feds.”

Morrison’s eyes went wide. “It couldn’t be—”

“You screwed up, Doctor. They figured it out, somehow, and now we have a whole new set of problems.”

He handed Morrison the phone and headset. He had to make a couple of calls on his own to verify this, but if it turned out to be what he was now sure it was, he had some serious thinking