Read Online The Kill Zone by David Hagberg - Free Book Online

on-the-ground eyewitness reports, came out every Monday. They were distributed to the top officials in the U.S. intelligence establishment; the CIA, FBI, National Security Agency, National Reconnaissance Office, the Pentagon and the State Department. The reports were digested, rewritten and updated so that every Thursday a National Intelligence Estimate and Watch Report could be generated. The NIE gave information on everything going on in the world that had a potential to threaten the security of the U.S. The Watch Report was a heads up on situations where fighting was going on or could be about to start. Both reports were sent to the President and his National Security Council, who set policy.
    It was up to the Director of Central Intelligence to oversee the process and to be called to account on Fridays. Then, on Mondays, like now, it started all over again. But he was having a hard time keeping on track tonight. Something was whispering in the wind around the eaves; in the sighing of the tree branches on the fifteenth fairway behind the house; in the nasty rumor-filled crackle of the plastic pool cover burdened with snow and ice. The pool water had not frozen. It was a death trap, the thought came to his mind. Fall in by accident, become entangled in the blue waffle cover and drown or suffocate.
    He telephoned Jay Newby on the night desk again. For some reason Mondays almost always seemed to be quiet. It was as if the bad guys had stopped after the hectic weekend to catch their breath. The night duty staff usually played pinochle at a buck a point. It was a ruthless game, and they hated to be interrupted.
    â€œFour-seven-eight-seven,” Newby answered sharply.

    â€œDid the Russians mention when Nikolayev went missing?” McGarvey asked.
    â€œAh, Mr. McGarvey, we were just about to call you, but just a minute and I’ll pull up the Moscow station file,” he said, shifting gears.
    McGarvey could hear several computer printers in action, someone talking and music in the background.
    â€œMid to late August,” Newby said. “But they don’t say who reported him missing, or why the urgency to find him. But they do want him back.”
    â€œOkay, now what were you going to call me about?”
    â€œThe operation in Mexico City. Tony wants a green light. We expected to pass this to Mr. Whittaker, but he asked not to be disturbed for anything below a grade two.” Antonio Lanzas was the Mexico City COS.
    â€œHe’s at his daughter’s wedding rehearsal dinner.”
    â€œYes, sir. And Mr. Adkins is at Columbia with his wife.”
    McGarvey had been expecting it. “Any word from the hospital?”
    â€œNothing yet.”
    â€œKeep me posted,” McGarvey said.
    â€œYes, sir. Dick Yemm is coming out with the operational order for your signature.”
    â€œVery well.” The CIA hadn’t been run with such a tight rein since the forties and fifties in the days of Allen Dulles and Wild Bill Donovan, who insisted on knowing everything that was going on. Such close control was impossible now because there was far too much information streaming into Langley twenty-fours hours a day for any one man to handle. But McGarvey insisted on knowing the details of any action that had the potential to threaten lives or embarrass the U.S.
    The operation called NightStar was the brainstorm of George Daedo, one of Tony’s field officers. Six months ago he’d gone to a concert by the National Symphony Orchestra of Mexico, alone for once, although he had the reputation of being a ladies’ man. At the first intermission he went to the smoking courtyard where he stumbled on a terrific argument between Fulvio Martinez, who was a vice counsel in the Mexican Intelligence Service, and his horse-faced wife, Idalia. As far as Daedo was concerned it was a gold seam; an opportunity not to be missed. Over the signature of his COS, Daedo began his careful and very delicate seduction