Loose Cannon: The Tom Kelly Novels Read Online Free Page A

we’re going to lose.”
    The civilian grimaced, but he did not respond at once. Finally he said, “General Follett, isn’t the Central Intelligence Agency better suited to carry out this, ah, program with a minimum of, of publicity?”
    Follett sucked in his gut again. “Sir,” he said, “without a contact agent to keep Professor Vlasov informed of the plans, there would be absolutely no way of achieving his successful defection. Only we in the Defense Intelligence Agency have such an agent—or could have one in the time available.”
    “Well, you could tell the CIA about your prize agent, couldn’t you?” the Secretary snapped. “Does he only talk Army jargon or something?”
    “Sir,” Follett said, standing as if he were about to salute the flag, “the Central Intelligence Agency is not responsible for the safety of our agent. We are. This is a man who has trusted us, who has provided valuable intelligence for many years out of his love of free society. I’m sorry, sir, I cannot permit him to be compromised by divulging his identity to parties who would throw away his life without hesitation if it suited their purposes.”
    “We can handle this, Mr. Secretary,” added General Redstone. “Remember, it was us and not those state-department rejects at Langley who bribed the Russky to defect with his MiG-25.”
    “Jesus,” said the Secretary of State. He was staring out the observation window at the melted target. “All right,” he said, turning. “General Follett, you have my support for this project—”
    “Project Skyripper,” Redstone interrupted unhelpfully with a grin.
    “My support for this project,” the Secretary repeated, “let the chips fall where they may. And yes, I’ll take care of the President. . . . But Genera”—he scowled at the trio of uniforms—“all of you! You’d better get him out. If you’ve made me a party to another Bay of Pigs, believe me—you won’t have careers. You won’t have heads.”
    The Secretary spun on his heel. “Come on, Chuckie,” he snapped, “we’re getting out of here. And I only pray I shouldn’t have left an hour ago.”
    The door banged behind the two men from State.
    “Well, that’s settled,” said Follett in relief.
    “Whether it was or not, I think we had to go ahead with the operation,” said Rear Admiral Wayne somberly. “You know how much I dislike the methods we have to use on this one, but the alternative is”—he shook his head—“just what the Secretary said it was. Surrender to the Russians now. I just hope that this man Kelly doesn’t let us down.”
    General Redstone was rubbing his hands together. “Tom Kelly?” he said. “Oh, he’ll come through. And what a punch in the eye for those bastards down in Langley!”

I

    “Mr. Kelly?” called the lieutenant in dress greens. “Mr. Kelly? Over here—I’m here to pick you up.”
    Tom Kelly scowled across the security barrier at the green uniform, showing more distaste than he actually felt for the man inside the cloth. Of course, he didn’t know the lieutenant from Adam; and he knew the uniform very well indeed. “In a second,” he called back in English. Moving to the side so as not to block the flow of disembarking passengers, Kelly relaxed and watched the show that Orly Airport and the Russian Embassy were combining to stage.
    Six men as soft and pasty-looking as maximum-security prisoners were being passed through the magnetic detector arch. None of them had hand luggage to be fluoroscoped. It was enough of a break in routine that the women and lone gendarme in charge of the barrier were more alert than usual. That was nothing compared to the attentiveness of the four bulky men escorting the others, however.
    Two of the escorts had stepped around the barrier ahead of their charges. They had displayed diplomatic passports and a note to avoid the detector. Otherwise the alarm would have clanged at the pistols they wore holstered under dark suits. The suits