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Bio Strike by Clancy, Tom

Nichols took a few seconds to think and seemed to

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feet steadier and less antsy as he did. The kid had close| cropped blond hair and cheeks that Ricci doubted would fpave any fuzz on them if he were to miss shaving for a pyeek. But there was a toughness underneath the school- oy looks, a focus. And he had the build of someone i exercised with intelligence, shooting for overall fit’, ness and stamina rather than bulk. Ricci had observed qualities while working briefly with him in KaI’zakhstan, and then again during the first-round tryout Us for his RDT.

“Our targets were confined to the room. Without any own means of exit but the door, according to our r-plan schematics. That was to their disadvantage,” : said at last. “To their advantage, they knew we were side, and the doorway gave them a narrow, direct, easily covered zone of observation and fire.” He again. “We could have created multiple diver- before and during our entry. A breaching charge |Could have been placed on the wall adjacent the door. fi’A profusion of chemical incapacitants and distractive 4s were available to us. There may have been time our outside support teams to launch gas projectiles ugh the outside window. Primarily, though, I should ave waited for your specific orders, directions, and ntdown before attempting to break through the

The kid sat rigidly in his chair. He seemed to be mak- a tremendous effort to contain his embarrassment. I somehow that made Ricci feel embarrassed for him.

“You were crackerjack until you swung that rammer,” said. “Didn’t miss a beat when we were surprised

those guys coming down the stairs. Or when we got that firefight in the hall. Both of ’em were tough

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situations. What happened at the last? Adrenaline take over?”

Nichols’ smooth cheeks flushed a little.

“Not exactly, sir … Tom, sir…”

He shook his head.

“Go on,” Ricci said. “Let’s hear it.”

The kid inhaled, exhaled.

“When you ordered us to neutralize the men in the corridor, your words … what I heard you say … was that you wanted it done yesterday.” He breathed again, looked at Ricci. “At the time, I took it to mean you wanted us to directly move on to the next stage and complete the seizure of our target. In hindsight, I think … that is, I know … I was too eager to please you and make the grade.”

Ricci was quiet a moment.

“I’ve got this theory about mistakes,” he said. “That they’re always waiting for us, sort of like hidden mines or trapdoors. Every step along, we’ve got choices to make. The better ones are usually just enough to get us a little further ahead. The worse ones have this crummy way of being more final. Of doing us in. Which doesn’t make for joyous odds.”

Ricci eyed his penholder, transferred it to his right side, then his left, then more toward the middle of the desk.

“I’ve been a soldier, and I’ve been a cop,” he said, looking up at the kid. “Met guys on both jobs who got into trouble not knowing the difference between obedience and blind obedience. Maybe it ought to be emphasized more. Showing men how to see the line, I mean. It can be thin. Razor sharp. Slippery. But if that’s where you choose to live, you better be wise to the terrain.”

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paused. “I’m your commander. My orders are sup- to be clear. You tell me the words I used had a in your scrcwup, I’ll take it into consideration, give in a second chance. But there won’t be a third. Because :’re talking life and death. For you and your team- is. And because, on my team, just following orders ‘t cut as an excuse. You’ve got to use your head, your judgment, everything you’ve learned, your un- iding of what the mission’s about. Of what we’re it. And keep the line in sight” Nichols sat quietly in his chair. “Thank you,” he said after a few seconds, looking kward. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. And f jn sorry-” Ricci interrupted him with a motion of his hand,

;ed at his wall clock. “Go home,” he said. “It’s late on a Friday afternoon, eekend’s calling.” “Yes, sir,” the kid said.

ci looked at him. Opened his mouth, closed it looked back at his penholder and resumed shifting around his desktop. Nichols rose from his chair and left the office.

193

THIRTEEN

CALIFORNIA/VIRGINIA NOVEMBER 13, 2001

roger gordian awoke sunday morning convinced

he was fending off a bad cold.

To be sure, he’d felt more than a little out of sorts the day before but had attributed that to being wearied from a busier-than-average week at the office, the predictable stresses of running an enterprise that spanned five continents -and, at last count, twenty-seven nations-compounded by Friday’s difficult sales conference. And he’d been keeping a close eye on Tom Ricci’s war games at the New Mexico training camp. Although Ricci had been frustrated with their ultimate resolution, his team’s performance had struck Gordian as mostly exceptional. That they’d stumbled at the end wasn’t as important to him as how they’d performed overall and what lessons they’d learned from their errors. Why hold operational maneuvers but to work out the kinks?

Still, a long, draining week. And with Ashley gone off to storm the checkout counters of Los Angeles, it felt incomplete, as though a seam had been left out of

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cuff. The house was less of a home when she was ay, too quiet, its rooms emptier and larger. Gordian etimes couldn’t believe how much time they’d spent before he’d drifted from the matrimonial through onto those eye-opening rumble strips a few years

he’d admittedly gotten used to having Julia despite their frequent tense moments. She ned delighted with her new place, and he was de- for her. But a part of him selfishly missed fang her and being trailed at his heels by her lovably oying greyhounds.

turning in early Friday night, Gordian spent t of Saturday with a mystery novel on his lap, unable k muster the energy for much of anything else. When |*d warmed the homemade chili Ashley had left in the and its smell failed to charge his appetite, he’d lusively diagnosed himself as an exhausted and bird separated from his flock. Nobody to pay tion to him. No eternally ravenous dogs nosing at (plate. Not even his daughter to give him one of those ng looks that said he couldn’t do anything right.

dian had listlessly eaten half a bowl of the chili 1 picked up his crime novel again, figuring he’d read i last few chapters, discover who murdered whom and y, shower, and go to bed. But after about ten or fif- minutes. his eyes had felt tired and grainy, and he :ided to cut straight to the shower and bed phases of second wild night of bacheloring. He’d wanted to : out for Julia’s first thing, anyway, eager to attach : spacers and siding strips to the posts of her dog cor- i. Though he’d already set the posts, and the strips had cut to size at the lumber yard, it would be a de195

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manding affair to complete just one side of the basket- weave fence. And he was secretly hoping to start on a second section that afternoon.

Then, as he’d risen from the chair in his study, Gordian had experienced a wave of mild lightheadedness. It was over in seconds, and again all he could think was that he was blown out from a rough week, though perhaps more so than he’d guessed. A few extra hours of shut-eye would do him a world of good.

But his sleep was shallow and fitful. Each time he stirred uneasily to glance at the illuminated face of his bedside clock, he’d find only a short time had passed since he’d last closed his eyes. Twenty minutes, forty, no longer than an hour.

At about two a.m. Gordian roused, chilled and sweating. His throat hurt when he swallowed. There was a dull pain behind his eyes. His arms and back were stiff. Whatever was wrong with him, it didn’t feel like a case of simple exhaustion anymore. He felt damn unwell.

He sat up against his pillow and drew his knees to his chest, trembling in the darkness. His mouth was parched, the stiffness in his muscles had become a throbbing ache, and his stomach was unsettled. After a while, he went into the adjoining bathroom for a drink of water. The sudden brightness of the bathroom light sharpened the pain at the back of his eyeballs, and he had to turn the dimmer control down low before going to fill his glass.

As he stood over the sink, it occurred to Gordian that a couple of aspirins might help him. He reached for the bottle in the medicine chest, shook a couple of tablets into his hand, and gulped them down with his water. Then his eye fell on the thermometer inside the chest.

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