Read Online Brass Monkey: A James Acton Thriller Book #2 by J Robert Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J Robert Kennedy
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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the best of times. “Easy, Chip, or you’ll burst a blood vessel before you get to see that beeyewteeful mushroom cloud.”
Chip laughed, his face dropping a couple of shades of red. “Sorry, Ed. You know me, I just can’t stand any of these fuckers, especially those commie bastards. As far as I’m concerned, Moscow’s a good enough target.”
Cole chuckled. “One problem at a time, one problem at a time!” He sat forward, the chair’s metal frame squeaking loudly. “In all seriousness, them wanting two of their people at the exchange is a problem.”
“Why, two sandtards should be easy to deal with,” said Mitch Fawcett, their computer and communications expert.
“It’s not that. It’s the fact that there are only two.”
Chip nodded. “You expecting more?”
“If I had just agreed to hand over twenty-five million dollars to shady arms dealers I had done business with only a few times, I would be insisting on a lot more of my men at the delivery site.”
Parker stood and stretched, his chicken and ribs enhanced rear momentarily sticking in the chair before his legs popped it off. “Part of me thinks we just take the twenty-five mil and use it here at home.”
“You kidding me? And miss the chance to go to war with these sons-a-bitches?” Chip looked at Cole. “You’re not considering this, are you?”
Cole shook his head. “No, this is too great an opportunity. In fact, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. When have we ever, throughout history, had a chance to destroy a religion, in one push of a button?”
“Metaphorically, of course,” said Parker. He turned to Chip. “Don’t worry, Chip, I’m completely on board. I just get frustrated when we’re so close to the end game.”
“We all are,” agreed Cole. “But when we’re finished, we’ll be running on adrenaline for the next twenty years as we mop up the mess.”
“So when’s their little shin-dig over there start?”
“October.”
Inebolu Sokak Street, Istanbul, Turkey
“The weapon is in play.”
Abdullah bin Saqr hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, surveying his office and the artifacts filling its walls. The sword used by the first grand headmaster Hasan-i-Sabbah when he conquered Alamut, the fortress that housed The Order of the Assassins for over 150 years, a battle that shed no blood, the conquerors hailed as heroes by their Ismaili brethren, was mounted on the far wall as it had been for over five hundred years. Several of the original texts salvaged before the Mongol hordes sacked and burned the great library in Alamut, sat on pedestals, encased in vacuum sealed glass, others entombed below the complex, protected from all manners of damage.
The great Grand Headmaster Hasni bin Saeed Al-Maktoum, who had led a small band of The Order to survive the Mongol onslaught, had continued the teachings of the great Sabbah, and had led The Order in secrecy for almost thirty years. His pupil and trusted companion, Faisal bin Sabah, succeeded him as Grand Headmaster, and The Order had survived, constantly moving, constantly keeping the ancient beliefs alive from generation to generation, continually spreading through society, and eventually making their headquarters in Istanbul.
The great city spanning the Sea of Marmara, separating Christian Europe from Muslim Asia, was a symbolic home, and a safe home, from which they could play their part in maintaining the balance between the world’s two greatest, and most conflicted, religions. The balance between Islam and Christianity had to be maintained, until both sets of adherents could learn to live as one. And now one of the greatest threats to that balance needed to be faced head-on, and defeated without mercy.
The weapon is in play.
One of their agents, a recent convert, was able to provide them with invaluable intelligence using the American’s own Echelon system. They knew about the weapon, they knew about New Slate. And they knew
Chip laughed, his face dropping a couple of shades of red. “Sorry, Ed. You know me, I just can’t stand any of these fuckers, especially those commie bastards. As far as I’m concerned, Moscow’s a good enough target.”
Cole chuckled. “One problem at a time, one problem at a time!” He sat forward, the chair’s metal frame squeaking loudly. “In all seriousness, them wanting two of their people at the exchange is a problem.”
“Why, two sandtards should be easy to deal with,” said Mitch Fawcett, their computer and communications expert.
“It’s not that. It’s the fact that there are only two.”
Chip nodded. “You expecting more?”
“If I had just agreed to hand over twenty-five million dollars to shady arms dealers I had done business with only a few times, I would be insisting on a lot more of my men at the delivery site.”
Parker stood and stretched, his chicken and ribs enhanced rear momentarily sticking in the chair before his legs popped it off. “Part of me thinks we just take the twenty-five mil and use it here at home.”
“You kidding me? And miss the chance to go to war with these sons-a-bitches?” Chip looked at Cole. “You’re not considering this, are you?”
Cole shook his head. “No, this is too great an opportunity. In fact, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. When have we ever, throughout history, had a chance to destroy a religion, in one push of a button?”
“Metaphorically, of course,” said Parker. He turned to Chip. “Don’t worry, Chip, I’m completely on board. I just get frustrated when we’re so close to the end game.”
“We all are,” agreed Cole. “But when we’re finished, we’ll be running on adrenaline for the next twenty years as we mop up the mess.”
“So when’s their little shin-dig over there start?”
“October.”
Inebolu Sokak Street, Istanbul, Turkey
“The weapon is in play.”
Abdullah bin Saqr hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, surveying his office and the artifacts filling its walls. The sword used by the first grand headmaster Hasan-i-Sabbah when he conquered Alamut, the fortress that housed The Order of the Assassins for over 150 years, a battle that shed no blood, the conquerors hailed as heroes by their Ismaili brethren, was mounted on the far wall as it had been for over five hundred years. Several of the original texts salvaged before the Mongol hordes sacked and burned the great library in Alamut, sat on pedestals, encased in vacuum sealed glass, others entombed below the complex, protected from all manners of damage.
The great Grand Headmaster Hasni bin Saeed Al-Maktoum, who had led a small band of The Order to survive the Mongol onslaught, had continued the teachings of the great Sabbah, and had led The Order in secrecy for almost thirty years. His pupil and trusted companion, Faisal bin Sabah, succeeded him as Grand Headmaster, and The Order had survived, constantly moving, constantly keeping the ancient beliefs alive from generation to generation, continually spreading through society, and eventually making their headquarters in Istanbul.
The great city spanning the Sea of Marmara, separating Christian Europe from Muslim Asia, was a symbolic home, and a safe home, from which they could play their part in maintaining the balance between the world’s two greatest, and most conflicted, religions. The balance between Islam and Christianity had to be maintained, until both sets of adherents could learn to live as one. And now one of the greatest threats to that balance needed to be faced head-on, and defeated without mercy.
The weapon is in play.
One of their agents, a recent convert, was able to provide them with invaluable intelligence using the American’s own Echelon system. They knew about the weapon, they knew about New Slate. And they knew
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