ENG
receiver dishes. Amid an electronic hum mixed with the howl of the winds, Jack reached the bottom of the ladder.
The tower was a building in its own right, a square structure eighteen hundred feet high and perhaps a hundred feet around. The ladder in front of him snaked up the side.
Eyes squinting against the bright sunshine, Jack gripped the steel rail and began to climb. After twenty rungs, he knew why the intruders weren’t looking down. The vistas around him were incredibly vast, the height dizzying.
Jack battled a constant wind that whistled in his ears and threatened to rip him off the ladder.
“Can you hear me, Morris? I need to know the location of the intruders.”
The voice in his headset was drowned out by the gale.
Jack muttered a curse and kept climbing.
He couldn’t find the intruders now. He did come across three bombs taped to the tower wall — solid bricks of C–4
wired with detonation cords instead of timers. Jack ripped the cords out as he went.
About two hundred feet above him, between rows of saucer-shaped dishes, Jack saw a steel mesh platform that circled the tower. The men had apparently exited the ladder there, and moved to the opposite side of the transmission tower.
Jack continued his ascent until the platform was less than twenty feet above him. Here the climbing space narrowed because the ladder was sandwiched between two massive receiver dishes. As Jack moved between them, strong hands grabbed his throat and threatened to tear him from the ladder.
“
Jack understood the language from his Delta Force missions in Eastern Europe. Rather than resisting, he threw up his arm so his attacker could see the tattoo.
“
The big man saw the tattoo, heard Jack’s words. Suddenly the pressure on his throat eased. Jack did not resist when the man grabbed his forearm and dragged him onto the top of a massive receiver dish, where he sprawled, gasping. The man loomed over him, stocky build, dark eyes, a once aquiline nose twisted by too many breaks.
“
Jack heard a grunt of surprise. At the same instant, he realized the tattoo on his forearm had smeared. The other man was looking at his own hand — the ink was now stain-ing his fingers.
Before the big man could make a move, Bauer lashed out with his elbow, crushing his larynx. As the man’s head jerked back, Jack grabbed him by his collar and flipped him from his perch.
The big man tumbled silently, arms and legs windmill-ing in the blasting winds. A hundred feet above the roof, the man struck a steel cable that severed his body in half.
Jack looked away, spied another bomb, and ripped out the det cord. Then he grasped the ladder, swung himself onto the rungs, and continued his climb.
Grunting, he pulled himself onto the platform a moment later. There was no sign of the other utility worker, but Jack spied bundles of plastic explosives taped to the tower, and a detonation cord leading around the bend.
Jack drew the Glock and followed the wire. He turned a corner and came face to face with the bomber a moment later.
“
The lanky blond man had just inserted cord into a brick of C–4. The tiny electronic detonator dangled from his utility belt. Now he reached for the button.
“
The man grasped the detonator, lifted it. Jack had no choice. The Glock bucked, its blast muted by the howling wind.
There was an explosion of red. The detonator, along with the hand clutching it, tumbled over the railing. The force of the concussion slammed the man against the rail, and he tumbled over it, too.
He screamed once, before bouncing off an ENG dish.
“Damn it!” Jack yelled, punching the rail.
Though he had stopped the bombers, he’d failed to take either man alive. Jack was back where he’d started…
Expressionless behind horn-rimmed glasses, billionaire currency speculator Soren Ungar held the phone to his ear, listening to the Albino’s rasping voice speaking from thousands of miles away.
While Erno Tobias talked, Ungar stared at his own reflection on the glass surface of the desk. He’d worn a blank business mask for so many decades that his bland, angular face now seemed incapable of even a micro- expression.
Ungar believed that was for the best. One should always maintain control and hold one’s thoughts and emotions tightly. It was vulgar, unseemly,
“This was an expensive mistake Ibrahim Noor made,”
Ungar interrupted. “Inviting that Congresswoman to his compound, today of all days, was a bit of insanity on his part.”
“Noor had his reasons,” Tobias replied. “Williams and the others were to be his gift. A blood sacrifice to those who remain behind. Slaughtered lambs for them to vent their rage before the final conflagration.”
“Nevertheless, it was an error that cost me a million euros to remedy,” Ungar said without a trace of rancor.
“Noor and his savages can have the others to do with as they please. But I may need the Congresswoman’s services in the future. It’s never wise to squander an asset that could still prove useful.”
Ungar paused. “Fortunately, I will only have to deal with these savages a little while longer, until they have served their purpose. When the bloodbath begins, America’s attention will be focused on stopping the threat, and I can act freely. After the final attack on their financial center and my speech tomorrow, before the International Board of Currency Traders, the final nails will be pounded into the coffin of American hegemony.”
“You will possess wealth beyond measure,” the Albino rasped.
“More importantly, with Europe in ascendance, a sorry century of dangerous technological inventions, vulgar consumerism, crass commercialism, and vile popular culture will finally end.”
“This plan is not without risks. And losses. I assume that you have accounted for them,” the Albino said evenly.
“The outcomes are worth the risks,” Ungar replied. “A century ago, Europe ruled the world through its superior culture, its economic might, and its colonial ambitions.
Then came the First World War, communism, fascism, nazism, and another war that obliterated all traces of the glorious Europe that was. The Second World War allowed those barbarians to enter the gate. It gave the Americans free rein over the fate of the entire world.”
Ungar glanced up, at the painting of his great-grandfa-ther, the man who’d catapulted his Swiss family to prominence in the banking industry.
“America’s dominance ends now,” he went on. “Though Europe can never beat the superpower militarily, there are other ways to bring defeat to your enemies.”
“Yes, well… I’m going back to the compound and meet with Noor for the last time,” the Albino said. “Then I’m heading to my apartment in Manhattan, where I’ll prepare for the final strike in the morning.”
“Very good,” Ungar replied.
There was a long pause. “You’re quite certain the other nations are ready to go along with this scheme?” the Albino asked at last.
