A Murder of Crows Read Online Free Page A

He needed to know the nature and timing and location of any other attacks they were planning to launch before they struck again. And Hicks never doubted they would strike again and soon. The University estimated the bio-weapon operation had cost millions to engineer. No one spent so much money to leave an objective unachieved.
    On the previous day, Roger reported The Moroccan was finally close to breaking. He was ready for Hicks to enter the interrogation process and close the deal.
    Such news would have been the highlight of his day if it hadn’t been for the surveillance of the CIA.
    As the words and charts of Roger’s interrogation reports began to blur, Hicks flipped the tablet shut and tossed it on the table. A dull headache began to build behind his eyes as the enormity of it all began to settle on him.
    As if stopping one bio-attack and trying to stop the next one wasn’t enough, now the CIA was hunting him. Hicks had been in the Game for over twenty years, but learning he was in the CIA’s crosshairs still gave him pause.
    His mind drifted to why the CIA was suddenly interested in him. There had to be a reason, but why? The only other people outside the University who knew Hicks had The Morocan were Agent Tali Saddon and her handlers in the Mossad. The two agencies had worked closely over the years, with the Mossad often using the University’s information as a secondary source to their connections with intelligence agencies throughout the world.
    From media reports and intelligence she had gathered on the dead men left behind in the shootout, Tali had deduced Hicks had been part of the shootout in Philadelphia. She had heard the dead men had been guarding someone important, someone Hicks must have taken with him. He confirmed it had been The Morocan, but Tali and her handlers in Tel Aviv had agreed to remain silent in exchange for daily interrogation reports on the prisoner. They also wanted The Moroccan transferred to them whenever Hicks was done with him.
    He doubted Tali or the Mossad had turned him into the CIA. Tali had always been loyal to Hicks. Bringing the CIA into the mix only would have complicated her intention to bring The Moroccan into custody.
    Still, the questions about the CIA rattled around in his mind. Why me? Why now?
    Hicks snapped out of it when he heard his handheld begin to buzz on the table. He was scheduled to interrogate The Moroccan in fifteen minutes. He planned on allowing the call to go to voicemail.
    But when he saw who was calling, he took the call.
    One didn’t allow a call from the Dean of the University go to voicemail.
     
    “H AVE YOU told Roger about your run-in with the Barnyard today?” the Dean asked.
    Hicks responded with the formality the Dean demanded. Details were to be conveyed clearly—without opinion or conjecture—in a concise manner. Speculation should only be offered if specifically requested. Orders were never to be questioned, though reasonable objections could be presented in a certain way at the proper time if they were followed by a viable, alternative suggestion. The Dean subscribed to the theory of complaint without solution was whining. He hated whining. “Not yet, sir. I’ve been reviewing Roger’s latest interrogation reports on The Moroccan in preparation for my interrogation of him in fifteen minutes.”
    “Have it your way, but I advise you to inform him of what happened immediately after your session with The Moroccan. I have been able to uncover some information about why you were being watched this morning. I am afraid what happened to you this morning may involve Roger before long.”
    Hicks was glad he was sitting down. Like the Operators, the Dean usually didn’t exaggerate, especially when it came to bad news. “That doesn’t sound promising, sir.”
    “All of the hacked systems this morning were done from Langley servers,” the Dean explained, “but the surveillance was part of a greater effort. You are being hunted by the