Read Online A Touch of Deceit (Nick Bracco Series #1) by Gary Ponzo - Free Book Online
Authors: Gary Ponzo
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eyes.
While Matt flipped pages of Gun Magazine, Nick sifted through files of terrorists known to have any link to the KSF. He groped for something, anything that might give him a clue why so many of them were spreading themselves across America’s landscape. Why would they appear to be moving in such a diverse pattern? He found himself staring at pictures of Kurdish rebels as if the power of his glare could evoke an answer from them.
The flight was long and the closer they got to Las Vegas, the quieter the conversation became. Both agents readied themselves as the night closed around them and reduced their world to the few dozen people on board the jet. Finally, Nick broke the silence. He held up a surveillance photo of a grizzly looking man with bad teeth and wild eyes. “They should lock this guy up just for taking a picture like this.”
Matt placed his forehead up against the window. Flying west at such a rapid pace extended twilight unnaturally, suppressing nightfall as the plane chased the setting sun. Looking down at a tiny sprinkling of lights covering the Midwest, he said, “It looks so peaceful down there.”
“Why can’t we have that?” Nick asked.
“Have what?”
“A peaceful, uneventful life. Go to work, punch the clock, type up a few reports and drive home. It sounds so calming.”
“You mean boring.”
“Yeah, boring. I like boring.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you’ve never tried it. Boring could be good for you. I hear the survival rate at AT&T is very high. A lot less stressful too.”
Matt shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s just as much stress working for a big corporation as there is with the Bureau. Just a different type of stress, that’s all.”
“You’re probably on to something there,” Nick mused.
“Besides,” Matt said, “you had it a lot worse when you were trolling West Baltimore in a cruiser five nights a week.”
Nick knew he was right, of course. He wondered if he would find the world so pressing if he were a bank teller or a teacher, like Julie. Her concerns must seem just as disturbing to her, yet she rarely showed it. Apparently it wasn’t the profession so much as the professional. He looked over at Matt, who was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. The picture of serenity. He respected Matt’s composure. He was cool, placid, skillfully poised.
As if Matt felt the weight of Nick’s stare, he said, “I know what they’re doing.”
“Who?”
“The Kurds,” Matt said, head back, hands folded on his lap.
“Tell me about it.”
“Obviously they’re planning a bombing. That’s why it’s so important for them to spring Rashid. He’s the best bomb expert they have. Probably the best in the world. They’re inundating us with enough riff-raff so we can’t cover them all. My guess is, most of them are decoys. Spread us thin so we can’t possibly give them the attention they deserve. A good tactic.”
Nick raised his eyebrows. “And all this time I thought you were focusing on your next trip to the shooting range.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face.”
Nick considered the theory. “Then why take my brother? You think Jackson’s right? You think it’s personal?”
“I don’t know. That part bothers me. There are too many other options that make more sense.”
Nick continued studying files until he became weary. He lay back and rested his eyes. It seemed like only a moment had passed before he awoke abruptly to the bouncing of clear air turbulence and the whining of landing gear deployment. When he looked out the window he saw the lights from the Vegas strip disrupting the Nevada sky like a neon bonfire.
Nick placed the documents into his portfolio and tucked it under his arm. He noticed Matt tapping his heel as he edged forward in his seat.
“Showtime,” Matt said.
It was a smooth landing and as the aircraft taxied to the gate, it stopped momentarily to allow another plane to pass. As he
While Matt flipped pages of Gun Magazine, Nick sifted through files of terrorists known to have any link to the KSF. He groped for something, anything that might give him a clue why so many of them were spreading themselves across America’s landscape. Why would they appear to be moving in such a diverse pattern? He found himself staring at pictures of Kurdish rebels as if the power of his glare could evoke an answer from them.
The flight was long and the closer they got to Las Vegas, the quieter the conversation became. Both agents readied themselves as the night closed around them and reduced their world to the few dozen people on board the jet. Finally, Nick broke the silence. He held up a surveillance photo of a grizzly looking man with bad teeth and wild eyes. “They should lock this guy up just for taking a picture like this.”
Matt placed his forehead up against the window. Flying west at such a rapid pace extended twilight unnaturally, suppressing nightfall as the plane chased the setting sun. Looking down at a tiny sprinkling of lights covering the Midwest, he said, “It looks so peaceful down there.”
“Why can’t we have that?” Nick asked.
“Have what?”
“A peaceful, uneventful life. Go to work, punch the clock, type up a few reports and drive home. It sounds so calming.”
“You mean boring.”
“Yeah, boring. I like boring.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you’ve never tried it. Boring could be good for you. I hear the survival rate at AT&T is very high. A lot less stressful too.”
Matt shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s just as much stress working for a big corporation as there is with the Bureau. Just a different type of stress, that’s all.”
“You’re probably on to something there,” Nick mused.
“Besides,” Matt said, “you had it a lot worse when you were trolling West Baltimore in a cruiser five nights a week.”
Nick knew he was right, of course. He wondered if he would find the world so pressing if he were a bank teller or a teacher, like Julie. Her concerns must seem just as disturbing to her, yet she rarely showed it. Apparently it wasn’t the profession so much as the professional. He looked over at Matt, who was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. The picture of serenity. He respected Matt’s composure. He was cool, placid, skillfully poised.
As if Matt felt the weight of Nick’s stare, he said, “I know what they’re doing.”
“Who?”
“The Kurds,” Matt said, head back, hands folded on his lap.
“Tell me about it.”
“Obviously they’re planning a bombing. That’s why it’s so important for them to spring Rashid. He’s the best bomb expert they have. Probably the best in the world. They’re inundating us with enough riff-raff so we can’t cover them all. My guess is, most of them are decoys. Spread us thin so we can’t possibly give them the attention they deserve. A good tactic.”
Nick raised his eyebrows. “And all this time I thought you were focusing on your next trip to the shooting range.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face.”
Nick considered the theory. “Then why take my brother? You think Jackson’s right? You think it’s personal?”
“I don’t know. That part bothers me. There are too many other options that make more sense.”
Nick continued studying files until he became weary. He lay back and rested his eyes. It seemed like only a moment had passed before he awoke abruptly to the bouncing of clear air turbulence and the whining of landing gear deployment. When he looked out the window he saw the lights from the Vegas strip disrupting the Nevada sky like a neon bonfire.
Nick placed the documents into his portfolio and tucked it under his arm. He noticed Matt tapping his heel as he edged forward in his seat.
“Showtime,” Matt said.
It was a smooth landing and as the aircraft taxied to the gate, it stopped momentarily to allow another plane to pass. As he
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