Rogue Operator E-Book

J. Robert Kennedy

• Herausgeber: J. Robert Kennedy
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

“Dylan Kane leaves James Bond in his dust!”

USA TODAY and BARNES & NOBLE #1 BESTSELLING AUTHOR • “A MASTER STORYTELLER” • OVER 800,000 BOOKS SOLD • OVER 3,000 FIVE STAR REVIEWS

IN ORDER TO SAVE THE COUNTRY HE LOVES, DYLAN KANE MUST FIRST BETRAY IT

Three top secret research scientists are presumed dead in a boating accident, but the kidnapping of their families the same day raises questions the FBI and local police can’t answer, leaving them waiting for a ransom demand that will never come.

Central Intelligence Agency Analyst Chris Leroux stumbles upon the story, and finds a phone conversation that was never supposed to happen. When he reports it to his boss, the National Clandestine Services Chief, he is uncharacteristically reprimanded for conducting an unauthorized investigation and told to leave it to the FBI.

But he can’t let it go.

For he knows something the FBI doesn’t.

One of the scientists is alive.

Chris makes a call to his childhood friend, CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane, leading to a race across the globe to stop a conspiracy reaching the highest levels of political and corporate America, that if not stopped, could lead to war with an enemy armed with a weapon far worse than anything in the American arsenal, with the potential to not only destroy the world, but consume it.

USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy introduces Rogue Operator, the first installment of his newest series, The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers, promising to bring all of the action and intrigue of the James Acton Thrillers with a hero who lives below the radar, waiting for his country to call when it most desperately needs him.

Available Dylan Kane Thrillers:

Rogue Operator, Containment Failure, Cold Warriors, Death to America, Black Widow, The Agenda, Retribution 

Leseprobe

Rogue Operator

A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller

by

J. Robert Kennedy

From the Back Cover

FROM USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. ROBERT KENNEDY

Three top secret research scientists are presumed dead in a boating accident, but the kidnapping of their families the same day raises questions the FBI and local police can’t answer, leaving them waiting for a ransom demand that will never come.

Central Intelligence Agency Analyst Chris Leroux stumbles upon the story, and finds a phone conversation that was never supposed to happen. When he reports it to his boss, the National Clandestine Services Chief, he is uncharacteristically reprimanded for conducting an unauthorized investigation and told to leave it to the FBI.

But he can’t let it go.

For he knows something the FBI doesn’t.

One of the scientists is alive.

Chris makes a call to his childhood friend, CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane, leading to a race across the globe to stop a conspiracy reaching the highest levels of political and corporate America, that if not stopped, could lead to war with an enemy armed with a weapon far worse than anything in the American arsenal, with the potential to not only destroy the world, but consume it.

USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy introduces Rogue Operator, the first installment of his newest series, The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers, promising to bring all of the action and intrigue of the James Acton Thrillers with a hero who lives below the radar, waiting for his country to call when it most desperately needs him.

About J. Robert Kennedy

With over 800,000 books sold and over 3000 five-star reviews, USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is the author of over thirty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers. He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.

"A master storyteller." — Betty Richard

"A writer who tells what we are thinking but sometimes afraid to say." — Bruce Ford

"Kennedy kicks ass in this genre." — David Mavity

"One of the best writers today." — Johnny Olsen

"If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count, most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J Robert Kennedy." — Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer

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Books by J. Robert Kennedy

The James Acton Thrillers

The Protocol Brass Monkey Broken Dove The Templar's Relic Flags of Sin The Arab Fall The Circle of Eight The Venice Code Pompeii's Ghosts Amazon Burning The Riddle Blood Relics Sins of the Titanic Saint Peter's Soldiers The Thirteenth Legion Raging Sun Wages of Sin Wrath of the Gods The Templar's Revenge

The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

Rogue Operator Containment Failure Cold Warriors Death to America Black Widow The Agenda Retribution

The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

Payback

Table of Contents

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Table of Contents

Beginning

Preface

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Acknowledgements

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Thank You!

About the Author

Also by the Author

“We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, ‘Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’ I suppose we all thought that one way or another.”

J. Robert Oppenheimer Father of the Atomic Bomb

Preface

At the Central Intelligence Agency headquarters in Langley, Virginia, a wall of white Vermont marble, called the Memorial Wall, honors CIA employees who died in the line of service. A star is carved into the marble for each of the employees who have died in the line of duty.

The Book of Honor, a black Moroccan goatskin-bound tome, sits beneath the stars. Inside, when national security permits, it lists the names of those who are represented by the stars, along with the year they died.

At the time of the writing of this novel, only 77 stars have a name. The rest remain secret. The first star belongs to Douglas Mackiernan. He died in 1950.

His name wasn’t added to the Book of Honor until 2006.

Currently, there are 103 stars.

1

Echelon Intercept, Received Today Fort Meade, National Security Agency Headquarters

[CLASSIFICATION TOP SECRET UMBRA GAMMA]

[DICTIONARY HITS: NONE, NATSEC WIRE TAP AUTH XU11A43]

[SOURCE ILC INTERNATIONAL LEASE CARRIER INTSAT-ALPHA]

[CALL ORIGIN: INTSAT INTERCEPT, SOURCE UNKNOWN]

[CALL DESTINATION: SEATTLE, WA, USA, LAND LINE 206-555-4178]

[START OF TRANSCRIPT]

[CALLER2] “Hello?”

[CALLER1] “Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

[CALLER2] “Jason?”

[CALLER1] “Yes.”

[CALLER2] “Oh my God, it’s so good to hear your voice. Where have you been, we’ve been so worried! I didn’t believe them for a second when they said you were dead!”

[CALLER1] “I’m okay, Mom, don’t worry.”

[CALLER2] “Are Maggie and the kids with you?”

[CALLER1] “Yes. Everyone’s okay.”

[CALLER2] “Where are you? We’ve been worried sick.”

[CALLER1] “I can’t say.”

[CALLER2] “What do you mean you can’t say?”

[CALLER1] “I’m sorry, Mom, I have to go. Listen, I just wanted you to know we’re okay. Don’t worry about us.”

[CALLER2] “I don’t understand. Why can’t—”

[CALLER1] “I’m sorry, Mom, I’ve got to go. Say hi to Dad. And Mom?”

[CALLER2] “What?”

[CALLER1] “Tell them not to look for us.”

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]

2

Omega Bionetix Lab, Ogden, Utah Three months ago

Jason Peterson stared at the screen, the magnification unimaginable to the lay person, but to him, mere routine. But today was anything but routine. Years of work were about to either pay off, or fizzle in yet another disappointing failure. His heart pounded in anticipation, and he tried to calm himself with deep, steady breaths.

When he could think of it.

It was just too exciting. He and his partners had devoted almost their entire professional lives to this research, bleeding edge by anyone’s standards, and had never been closer to succeeding than they were now. It had taken months just to set up the experiment, their new design requiring painstaking manipulation where just one wrong move, and there had been many, meant starting over.

Hence the requirement for steady hands. And breathing.

But today there were no hands involved. Today they had flipped the proverbial switch, and their experiment was on its own.

“There!”

He looked where his partner—and friend—Carl Shephard pointed.

Could it be?

He touched the monitor and dragged his finger, redirecting the microscope to center on a new location.

“Jesus Christ!” whispered Phil Hopkins. “It’s working.”

And it was.

And it was beautiful.

The three simply stared, and when it was over, only thirteen seconds later, Jason felt tears running down his cheeks that had gone unnoticed.

“We did it.”

It was a statement, spoken sotto voce, to no one in particular, for it was obvious to the three scientists that their life’s work had finally borne fruit.

“What’s going on?”

It was Phil who verbalized what his eyes had noticed.

The experiment hadn’t stopped.

“What’s it doing?” Jason whispered, zooming in for an even deeper look.

“The process didn’t stop,” said Carl, the fear in his voice palpable, as he rushed over to one of the workstations, furiously typing. “There must be a programming error!”

Jason could feel his chest tighten as their experiment grew, exponentially, on screen. What was supposed to be a single replication, had now doubled, with a quadrupling already underway.

He turned to see Carl poring over the code that had been used to configure the experiment, Phil at the terminal beside him, examining another section of the code.

“There!” said Phil, pointing at his screen. They all gathered around to see a single line of code commented out with a simple ‘//’. A line of code that triggered the process to stop after it had completed, otherwise the process looped back to the top to replicate again.

Jason felt faint and grabbed the back of Carl’s chair. “How the hell did that happen?” he asked, steadying himself, the implications of this one line of disabled code beginning to be realized.

An alarm sounded and all their heads spun toward the display. The screen was now filled, a squirming mass eating its way through everything in its path.

“We’ve lost integrity on the test environment!” exclaimed Phil as he read the error flashing on his screen. “How’s that possible?”

But Jason didn’t care how it was possible. He only cared about how to stop it.

“We need to shut it down!” he yelled, the alarm blaring.

“How?”

“The EMP. It’s the only way!”

Jason reached for the switch on the wall, flipping open the protective cover. He felt someone grab his arm. It was Phil.

“No, you can’t! We’ll lose all our research. Everything! We’ll have to start over!”

Jason wrenched his arm free.

“None of that will matter if we don’t stop this. Everything, everyone, will be gone!”

“There has to be another way!” cried Phil, lunging for Jason’s arm as he reached for the large, round button.

“Look!”

They both turned to see Carl pointing at the casing housing the experiment.

It was disintegrating before their eyes.

“Press the button, for the love of God!” pleaded Carl as the casing turned to a liquid almost resembling mercury, and poured out onto the floor.

Jason remained frozen, his mind a fog of what they had done, the horror they had unleashed on the world.

“Press the damned button!” roared Carl.

Jason tore himself from Phil’s grasp, his partner’s hold no longer strong, his will to preserve their work apparently waning as the terror of what was unfolding triggered his own desire for self-preservation.

Jason slammed his palm against the large red button and the sounds of the massive EMP generator powering up could be heard on the other side of the wall.

“How long?” asked Carl as he backed away from the encroaching mass.

“Two minutes!”

“It’ll be ten times the size by then!”

A display flickered on the wall, its LED numbers counting down far slower than Jason’s heart slammed against his ribcage. He backed into a corner, as far away as he could get from the mass as it seemed to regurgitate toward him, the electromagnetic pulse engine still with far too much time left. His thoughts were consumed not for the planet he had just destroyed, but for his wife and kids, who would die without him, never knowing it was their own protector who had unleashed the devastation upon them, and mankind.

I’m so sorry.

3

Waterford Academy, Ogden, Utah Last Week

Maggie Peterson looked at her watch.

Where are those kids? She didn’t have time for their dillydallying today. Not with Jason away. In fact, with him away, she was being run ragged. I don’t know how single mothers do it! She spotted Darius sliding down the railing, her heart skipping a beat before he landed safely at the bottom, the teacher monitoring the stairs wagging a finger at him, he dipping his head in apology as he quickly walked by, then as soon as she was out of sight—from his eight-year-old perspective—a smile spread across his face and he waved, running for the car.

Maggie waved back, her head shaking, but smiling, as she urged him on with a wave of her hand.

“Where’s your sister?” she asked as Darius climbed into the car, smacking every conceivable surface with his backpack as he removed it, his coordination skills still developing into what she feared would be his father’s.

He shrugged, the one thing he seemed to be able to coordinate no matter what he was doing.

“I didn’t see her all day.”

Maggie frowned and was about to fish out her cellphone when she saw her twelve-year-old daughter Ayla saunter down the stairs with several of her gaggle, as if they owned the place.

Seniors. Is she ever going to be shocked when she’s the youngest at her school next year.

Maggie honked the horn and Ayla cast a disapproving glance. The gaggle exchanged hugs, then Ayla continued her saunter toward the car.

“Let’s go!” yelled Maggie through the open passenger side window. “We’re already late!”

Ayla picked up her pace. Slightly.

Maggie was about to let her have a burst of impatience when she instead sucked in a deep breath and turned away from the sight of pre-teen disrespect, squaring herself with the steering wheel, her mind drifting to what she had to look forward to with full-blown teenaged rebellion.

God, Jason, why do you have to go on that stupid fishing trip every year!

But she knew why. His job. No, it wasn’t work related, but it actually was—sort of. He and his two research buddies would go every year. They had since they were all hired away from Boeing almost fifteen years ago. Cherry-picked for being the best, they were also the three newbies brought in to save a top secret weapons research department the existing staff felt had no need of saving.

So they had bonded, and every year went on a fishing trip together, this year, despite the layoffs announced, being no different. Jason was probably safe, but if he weren’t, he hadn’t mentioned anything to her, nor would he. She had only found out through Phoebe, Carl Shephard’s wife—one of the three stooges now probably catching nothing—that there were major layoffs at the company, some contract apparently lost.

She smiled at the thought of three scientists fishing as the car door finally opened. Jason was brilliant, and a wonderful husband. But coordinated he was not. Him working a fishing line, actually trying to cast—

She giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

She looked at Ayla, finally gracing the family with her presence.

“Nothing, just picturing your dad fishing.”

Darius giggled as she put the car in gear and checked her mirrors, pulling out of the pickup loop at the exclusive private school. As she approached the gate, the security guard gave her a nod and smile as he checked off her license plate from the list.

She gave him a wave, then pulled into traffic, leaving the walled compound meant to secure and educate VIP children, behind. She remembered when they had first arrived in Ogden. She had read the company briefing papers, and had laughed at the suggestion it contained about sending their future children to Waterford Academy. They had both actually laughed at the prospect.

But when Ayla was born, and ready for school far too quickly, she had called the local schools to make appointments. She had only gone to one.

“Where does your husband work?”

“Omega Bionetix,” she remembered telling the principal.

“Oh, then you shouldn’t be wasting your time with us. You should be going to Waterford Academy.”

“I’d rather not. I’d prefer my kid to go to a regular school.”

The principal had closed the file and pushed it aside.

“Mrs. Peterson, if you value your child’s life, you will send them to Waterford.”

It had scared her to the core, and when Jason had returned home, he found her huddled in her bedroom, hugging her pillow, her tear streaked face leaving no chance even he, the distracted scientist, could miss.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“You! You! That’s what’s wrong!”

His eyebrows had shot up, his chin dropped, and he gave her that questioning, “what the hell did I do now?” look. She told him about the meeting at the school, and he nodded, sitting down beside her.

“Perhaps it’s time you found out what I do. At least an idea of what I do.”

“What do you mean? You’re a medical researcher!”

He shook his head and took her hand.

Five minutes later she had left a message on the admissions department voice mail at Waterford.

She adjusted her rearview mirror and tapped her brakes, her subtle hint to the black SUV behind her it was getting a little too close. It backed off, and she turned the corner to head to the grocery store.

“Where are you going?” asked Ayla.

“I need to pick up a few things at the grocery store, it’ll only take a moment.”

“But, Mom! I’m supposed to go to Julie’s after school!”

“It will only take a few minutes, you can still go.”

“But I told her I’d be right over! Now she’s gonna think I’m not coming!”

“Then send her a text!”

“You took my phone away, remember?”

Maggie eyed the rearview mirror again. The SUV was back, and tailgating her again.

“Well, you should have followed the rules. Texting after bedtime is a no-no. You agreed when we gave you the phone. You broke the rules, and these are the consequences.”

Ayla slammed her fists into the schoolbag sitting on her lap. “I hate this family! You guys are so strict!” she screamed.

Maggie chose to ignore it. She had said similar things when she was Ayla’s age, but she was certain over much more important things than a cellphone.

God, I’d hate to be a kid today.

There was no downtime. Cellphones, text messages, Facebook, Twitter, email. Chatting online with forty kids at once, hundreds of text messages a day. The kids could never get a break. When she was growing up, she’d lie in her bedroom listening to music, reading, and if she wanted to talk to someone, she’d have to go ask for the phone, and it meant talking to one friend at a time. And when she didn’t want to talk, she’d be able to just not answer the phone, or tell her mom to take a message.

But not today. These kids were so wired in, from the moment they woke up they were being hounded. Which was why they had made the rule. No cellphone after bedtime.

Another black SUV pulled up beside her as a large semi-trailer changed into her lane up ahead. She glanced over, finding it slightly odd two identical vehicles would be so close to her in traffic. The blacked out windows sent a little shiver down her spine. She glanced at the rearview, the other SUV still only feet from her bumper.

She eased off the gas.

The vehicle beside her continued past, then pulled in front, the massive bulk blocking her view of the traffic ahead. She debated changing lanes, but she had to turn right in the next few minutes. She hated SUV’s and trucks. You can’t see through them, over them or around them. They were a danger to the other vehicles on the road, and half the time they were driven by idiots who thought they were invincible once behind the wheel.

She glanced back at Darius, who was busying himself with his Nintendo 3DS.

“Mom! Look out!”

Her eyes darted from the rearview mirror to the road in front to find the SUV had swerved to the left, leaving her barreling toward the back of the semi-trailer, its loading ramp down, its empty interior gaping in front of them.

She jumped on her brakes as she looked in the rearview mirror at the tailgating SUV. It slammed into the back of them and she instinctively reached a hand out to prevent Ayla from smacking into the dash. She turned toward Darius, his terrified eyes meeting hers as his Nintendo flew out of his hands, his tiny body shoved into the back of the seat.

Ayla screamed, Darius joining her, as Maggie tried to keep cool.

It’s just a car accident.

But something was wrong. Her mind was a jumble, her thoughts scrambled from the shock, the panic, the screams, the concern over her kids.

And the fact their car was still moving.

“Mom! What’s happening?”

But she didn’t know. She couldn’t figure out what was going on. She looked ahead, at the truck in front of her, the truck that continued to get closer, and her mind reeled as it tried to comprehend what it was seeing.

Her foot was planted firmly on the brake, but an engine was roaring. Her instinct was to turn off her car, but it wasn’t her engine she was hearing. It was the engine of the SUV, its tires squealing behind them as they continued forward. She looked in the rearview mirror at the SUV still on their bumper, when it all clicked.

It’s pushing us!

The front of the car jolted as it hit something, then suddenly they were all tilted back in their seats. Darius wailed, Ayla screamed, and Maggie reached up to press the panic button.

They jerked up the ramp, into the back of the semi-trailer. Maggie shoved the brake into the floor even harder, reaching over with her foot and pushing hard on the emergency brake, but they continued to hop forward, their tires not turning, all momentum being created by the massive SUV behind them.

She felt the rear tires hit the ramp, the front tires now at the top as she shook the steering wheel. “Pick up! Pick up! Pick up!” The darkness of the interior cast a deep shadow over the front of the car, then suddenly they tipped up. A final gun of the engine behind them, and they bounced into the back of the truck completely, the blackness enveloping them, Darius and Ayla both screaming in terror, a third voice barely recognized as her own joining them.

“This is On-Star, how may I—”

“Help us! Help us! Oh God please help us!” she cried as she saw the SUV disappear from her rearview mirror, then the sunlight pouring in from outside suddenly vanished as the rear doors slammed shut.

And the cellphone signal died.

The car jerked, and she realized the truck they had been pushed into was beginning to move. The kids continued to scream, the inky blackness not helping. She reached forward, her hands shaking, and turned on the headlights.

And she joined the screams.

4

Mona Reservoir, Utah