Read Online Breaking Point by Dana Haynes - Free Book Online

and the remotes.
    â€œHello?”
    He listened to the hiss on the telephone line. He knew who’d called, although his LED screen was blank. He had the house to himself. He waited, listened to the hiss. A juniper tree rustled outside the den window. The family’s calico sauntered into the room, vaguely curious, wondering if the call might lead to a belly rub or food. Barry sat.
    Renee Malatesta said, “Ah…”
    Barry inhaled, held it.
    â€œWe should … turn this around,” she whispered into the line.
    Barry said, “Yes.”
    And Renee hung up.
    *   *   *
    Barry Tichnor set down his work cell and left his recliner. In slippers, he stepped out into his garage and dug around in the box of Christmas ornaments for the other cell phone he had stored there. He took it plus his beer and walked out into his backyard, far from the house. He dialed a ten-digit number he’d memorized.
    An answering machine beeped.
    â€œA-fourteen-dash-C,” he said softly, then sipped his beer. “Day code: Orange. Meet me, usual place.”
    He hung up and returned to the house.

8
    TWO DAYS TO GO
    At dawn on Tuesday, Barry Tichnor met a man calling himself Calendar in a parking lot three blocks from Metro Center on Pennsylvania. It was close to vacant.
    Calendar was a tall man, early fifties, with close-cropped silver hair, wide shoulders, and a military bearing: a sharp contract to Barry’s egg-shaped body and ill-fitting clothes. Barry had used him a few times before and found his professionalism and perfectionism reassuring. Not to mention his quick wits in the field.
    They did not sit, nor did they shake hands. Calendar scanned the horizon, turning to Barry before he spoke, his eyes the last thing to pivot Barry’s way, as if direct, one-on-one eye contact was painful. He spoke softly. “I’ve selected a target. Nova Scotia, six days from now. The collateral will be five geologists, three Canadians, two Swedes. We didn’t want to test the device on American citizens, naturally, so—”
    Barry said, “There’s a new target. It will take place in forty-eight hours.”
    Calendar absorbed this without showing any emotion. He scanned the horizon. “Where?”
    â€œOn American soil.”
    The big man raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
    â€œWe are. You’ll have only one shot at this. It pays triple the amount we agreed to.”
    The two men were silent for a time. Calendar, without emotion, said, “So, essentially, you think I’m a whore.”
    Barry blinked. “Sorry?”
    â€œYou think this is about the dollar amount. You think I act out of love of money.”
    â€œNo, I—”
    â€œThe price I set for this mission covers my associates’ time and my own. It covers transportation. It covers weapons and supplies. I am not a mercenary, Tichnor. I’m a professional. The price is the price.”
    â€œOkay,” Barry said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
    â€œThe price … is … the price.” Calendar’s blue eyes never changed, never took on any emotion. But he pressed his point. “Don’t forget that.”
    â€œI won’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest anything else.”
    Calendar studied him for a moment. “And the target?”
    â€œA man. A man who plans to leak sensitive information on the very weapon you’re beta-testing.”
    Calendar’s pale blue eyes scanned the vicinity. “That would be bad.”
    â€œYes.”
    A beat, and the big man said, “Done.”
    Barry Tichnor said, “Thank you,” and turned to walk away.
    He didn’t mop his forehead until he was out of Calendar’s sight.
    On his way back to the office, Barry Tichnor made a call to one of his contacts at the CIA. They agreed to meet at Rock Creek Park.
    *   *   *
    Agent Jenna Scott was six