Read Online The Will Of The People (Conspiracy Trilogy Book 1) by Christopher Read - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher Read
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use of Pentax camera and zoom. He might
not have had a clue what type of bird he was photographing but
Anderson could definitely see a future for himself as a
photo-twitcher, or whatever the phrase might be, and it was
infinitely more rewarding than a one-man witch-hunt against
Erdenheim.
Stomach satisfied, Anderson sat in the lounge bar, coffee at
hand, reading through the Daily
Telegraph’ s report on Monday’s outrage at
Domodedovo. August 14 had quickly accepted responsibility, their hypocrisy all-too clearly revealed as they expressed
regret for the British and American lives lost in the fight against
Russian imperialism. The total number of victims was still rising,
with 262 killed aboard the Boeing Dreamliner, almost half of them
British, some forty American. For Russia the total loss was far
greater, the list of missing and dead now well over two hundred.
The Russian authorities had also confirmed reports that a policeman
had been critically injured in a shoot-out west of the airport, one
terrorist killed, two more arrested.
Russian terrorism seemed to be a common theme of late and
Anderson returned to the enigma of Charles Zhilin’s book, needing
to understand why the Commander had thought Red Terror a worthwhile next
step. Terrorism – Russia – August 14 –
Erdenheim : Anderson thrust the thought
aside, his Walter Mitty daydreams were just getting a bit too
outrageous.
Zhilin himself had been Head of the FBI’s Counter-Terrorism
Section and a member of the United Nations Counter-Terrorism
Implementation Task Force, just the three books to his name. The Tactics of Terror and The Failures of
Counter-Terrorism had been followed in
2016 by Red Terror, Truth and
Fiction , it supposedly the first of two
books on Soviet-sponsored terrorism, the second one contrarily due
to cover the period 1918 to 1945.
Sadly, Red
Terror’ s contents weren’t quite as
exciting as the garish cover had suggested, each chapter focussing
on a particular incident or country, from sabotaging power supplies
in the United Sates to the kidnapping and murder of Russia’s own
citizens. Too dry and factual for Anderson’s taste, he forced
himself to keep reading – and more importantly, keep
learning.
After an hour,
and just fifty-two pages, he finally gave up. Hope and the odd
prayer seemed to be getting Anderson absolutely nowhere.
Moscow
The small
conference room always seemed particularly bland to Grebeshkov,
especially when compared with the rest of Government House, there
not even a single picture to break up the monotony of its
steel-blue painted walls. The furniture was minimal, with just one
long table and eight high-backed chairs on either side. No
wall-mounted displays with sophisticated computer graphics, no
complex map overlays, no touch screen data updates – such
technological aids were just not the Prime Minister’s way. Hence, a
sombre setting for a sombre meeting of Russia’s Counter-Terrorist
Security Committee.
Including
Grebeshkov there were seven generals seated around the table, none
of them presently in uniform. The other two committee members were
both politicians, namely the Prime Minister and the National
Security Advisor. Chaired by the Prime Minister, it was a group
with much influence but no real power, as any major decisions had
first to be ratified by the President. That said, it still meant
responsibility for all subsequent actions – or more accurately,
those actions that either failed or were deemed to have been a
mistake – would lie entirely at the door of the Prime Minister and
his eight colleagues. And, to ensure there would be no dispute as
to who said exactly what and when, their every word was recorded
both digitally and by hand via an aide.
The Prime
Minister sat directly opposite Grebeshkov: not yet fifty, he was
another of the relatively young breed of Russian politicians, it
taking him just ten years to progress from his first political
appointment as Presidential adviser to
not have had a clue what type of bird he was photographing but
Anderson could definitely see a future for himself as a
photo-twitcher, or whatever the phrase might be, and it was
infinitely more rewarding than a one-man witch-hunt against
Erdenheim.
Stomach satisfied, Anderson sat in the lounge bar, coffee at
hand, reading through the Daily
Telegraph’ s report on Monday’s outrage at
Domodedovo. August 14 had quickly accepted responsibility, their hypocrisy all-too clearly revealed as they expressed
regret for the British and American lives lost in the fight against
Russian imperialism. The total number of victims was still rising,
with 262 killed aboard the Boeing Dreamliner, almost half of them
British, some forty American. For Russia the total loss was far
greater, the list of missing and dead now well over two hundred.
The Russian authorities had also confirmed reports that a policeman
had been critically injured in a shoot-out west of the airport, one
terrorist killed, two more arrested.
Russian terrorism seemed to be a common theme of late and
Anderson returned to the enigma of Charles Zhilin’s book, needing
to understand why the Commander had thought Red Terror a worthwhile next
step. Terrorism – Russia – August 14 –
Erdenheim : Anderson thrust the thought
aside, his Walter Mitty daydreams were just getting a bit too
outrageous.
Zhilin himself had been Head of the FBI’s Counter-Terrorism
Section and a member of the United Nations Counter-Terrorism
Implementation Task Force, just the three books to his name. The Tactics of Terror and The Failures of
Counter-Terrorism had been followed in
2016 by Red Terror, Truth and
Fiction , it supposedly the first of two
books on Soviet-sponsored terrorism, the second one contrarily due
to cover the period 1918 to 1945.
Sadly, Red
Terror’ s contents weren’t quite as
exciting as the garish cover had suggested, each chapter focussing
on a particular incident or country, from sabotaging power supplies
in the United Sates to the kidnapping and murder of Russia’s own
citizens. Too dry and factual for Anderson’s taste, he forced
himself to keep reading – and more importantly, keep
learning.
After an hour,
and just fifty-two pages, he finally gave up. Hope and the odd
prayer seemed to be getting Anderson absolutely nowhere.
Moscow
The small
conference room always seemed particularly bland to Grebeshkov,
especially when compared with the rest of Government House, there
not even a single picture to break up the monotony of its
steel-blue painted walls. The furniture was minimal, with just one
long table and eight high-backed chairs on either side. No
wall-mounted displays with sophisticated computer graphics, no
complex map overlays, no touch screen data updates – such
technological aids were just not the Prime Minister’s way. Hence, a
sombre setting for a sombre meeting of Russia’s Counter-Terrorist
Security Committee.
Including
Grebeshkov there were seven generals seated around the table, none
of them presently in uniform. The other two committee members were
both politicians, namely the Prime Minister and the National
Security Advisor. Chaired by the Prime Minister, it was a group
with much influence but no real power, as any major decisions had
first to be ratified by the President. That said, it still meant
responsibility for all subsequent actions – or more accurately,
those actions that either failed or were deemed to have been a
mistake – would lie entirely at the door of the Prime Minister and
his eight colleagues. And, to ensure there would be no dispute as
to who said exactly what and when, their every word was recorded
both digitally and by hand via an aide.
The Prime
Minister sat directly opposite Grebeshkov: not yet fifty, he was
another of the relatively young breed of Russian politicians, it
taking him just ten years to progress from his first political
appointment as Presidential adviser to
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