Side Effects Read Online Free
Author: Michael Palmer
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Medical, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, Fiction - Espionage
scene.
He checked the small ignition charge and set the timer for ten minutes. Willi Becker was grinning as he dropped into the tunnel and pulled the workbench cabinet back in place. He sealed the drainage pipe opening, and without a glance at the farmer's body, crawled toward the exit beyond the camp's electrified fence.
He was behind the wheel of the lorry, a quarter mile from the camp, when the peaceful night sky turned red gold. Seconds later, he heard the muffled series of explosions.
"Good-bye, Josef Rendl," he said. "I shall enjoy reading in The New fork Times of your trial and execution. And as for you, Dr. Miiller, it is game and match between us, eh? A shame you shall never know who really won. Perhaps someday, if you survive, I will send you a postcard." His wife and son were waiting for him in Rostock. As Becker bounced down the road, he began humming the "Star Spangled Banner."
THE PRESENT
Page 8
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Chapter 1.
Sunday 9 December
The morning was typical of December in Massachusetts.
A brushed aluminum sky blended into three-day old snow covering the cornfields along Route 127. Dulled by streaks of road salt, Jared Samuels's red MGTD roadster still sparkled like a flare against the landscape.
From the passenger seat, Kate Bennett watched her husband negotiate the country road using only the thumb and first two fingers of his left hand. His dark brown eyes, though fixed on the road, were relaxed, and he seemed to be singing to himself. Kate laughed.
"Hey, Doc," Jared asked glancing over, "just what are you laughing at?"
"You."
"Well, that's a relief. For a moment there I thought you were laughing at me ... Tell me what I was doing that was so funny, I might want to write it down." "Not funny," Kate said. "Just nice. It makes me happy to see you happy. There's a peacefulness in you that I haven't seen since the campaign began."
"Then you should have turned on the bedroom light last night at, oh, eleven-thirty, was it?"
"You didn't just pass out after?"
"Nope. Five minutes of absolute Nirvana ... then I
21
passed out." He flashed the smile that had always been reserved for her alone.
"I love you, you know," Kate said.
Jared looked at her again. It had been a while since either of them had said the words outside the bedroom.
"Even though I'm not going to be the Honorable Congressman from the Sixth District?"
"Especially because you're not going to be the Honorable Congressman from the Sixth District." She checked the time. "Jared, it's only nine-thirty. Do you think we could stop at the lake for a bit? We haven't in such a long time. I brought a bag of bread just in case." Jared slowed. "Only if you promise not to poach when goddamn Carlisle starts hitting to my backhand."
"Once. I stole a ball from you once in almost two years of playing together, and you never let me forget it."
"No poaching?"
Was he being serious? It bothered her that after almost five years of marriage she couldn't always tell.
"No poaching," she vowed finally, wary of making a response that would chip the mood of the morning. Lately, it seemed, their upbeat moods were becoming less frequent and more fragile.
"The ducks bless you," Jared said in a tone which did nothing to resolve her uncertainty. The lake, more a large pond, was a mile off 127 in the general direction of the Oceanside Racquet Club. It was surrounded by dense thickets of pine and scrub oak, separated by the backyards of a dozen or so houses--upper-class dwellings in most communities, but only average in i the North Shore village of Beverly Farms. At the far end of the ice cover, hockey sticks in hand, a trio of boys chased a puck up and down a makeshift rink, their bright mufflers and caps phosphorescing against the pearl-gray morning. Nearer the road, a spillway kept the surface from freezing. Bobbing on the half-moon it created were a score of ducks. Several more rested on the
He checked the small ignition charge and set the timer for ten minutes. Willi Becker was grinning as he dropped into the tunnel and pulled the workbench cabinet back in place. He sealed the drainage pipe opening, and without a glance at the farmer's body, crawled toward the exit beyond the camp's electrified fence.
He was behind the wheel of the lorry, a quarter mile from the camp, when the peaceful night sky turned red gold. Seconds later, he heard the muffled series of explosions.
"Good-bye, Josef Rendl," he said. "I shall enjoy reading in The New fork Times of your trial and execution. And as for you, Dr. Miiller, it is game and match between us, eh? A shame you shall never know who really won. Perhaps someday, if you survive, I will send you a postcard." His wife and son were waiting for him in Rostock. As Becker bounced down the road, he began humming the "Star Spangled Banner."
THE PRESENT
Page 8
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Chapter 1.
Sunday 9 December
The morning was typical of December in Massachusetts.
A brushed aluminum sky blended into three-day old snow covering the cornfields along Route 127. Dulled by streaks of road salt, Jared Samuels's red MGTD roadster still sparkled like a flare against the landscape.
From the passenger seat, Kate Bennett watched her husband negotiate the country road using only the thumb and first two fingers of his left hand. His dark brown eyes, though fixed on the road, were relaxed, and he seemed to be singing to himself. Kate laughed.
"Hey, Doc," Jared asked glancing over, "just what are you laughing at?"
"You."
"Well, that's a relief. For a moment there I thought you were laughing at me ... Tell me what I was doing that was so funny, I might want to write it down." "Not funny," Kate said. "Just nice. It makes me happy to see you happy. There's a peacefulness in you that I haven't seen since the campaign began."
"Then you should have turned on the bedroom light last night at, oh, eleven-thirty, was it?"
"You didn't just pass out after?"
"Nope. Five minutes of absolute Nirvana ... then I
21
passed out." He flashed the smile that had always been reserved for her alone.
"I love you, you know," Kate said.
Jared looked at her again. It had been a while since either of them had said the words outside the bedroom.
"Even though I'm not going to be the Honorable Congressman from the Sixth District?"
"Especially because you're not going to be the Honorable Congressman from the Sixth District." She checked the time. "Jared, it's only nine-thirty. Do you think we could stop at the lake for a bit? We haven't in such a long time. I brought a bag of bread just in case." Jared slowed. "Only if you promise not to poach when goddamn Carlisle starts hitting to my backhand."
"Once. I stole a ball from you once in almost two years of playing together, and you never let me forget it."
"No poaching?"
Was he being serious? It bothered her that after almost five years of marriage she couldn't always tell.
"No poaching," she vowed finally, wary of making a response that would chip the mood of the morning. Lately, it seemed, their upbeat moods were becoming less frequent and more fragile.
"The ducks bless you," Jared said in a tone which did nothing to resolve her uncertainty. The lake, more a large pond, was a mile off 127 in the general direction of the Oceanside Racquet Club. It was surrounded by dense thickets of pine and scrub oak, separated by the backyards of a dozen or so houses--upper-class dwellings in most communities, but only average in i the North Shore village of Beverly Farms. At the far end of the ice cover, hockey sticks in hand, a trio of boys chased a puck up and down a makeshift rink, their bright mufflers and caps phosphorescing against the pearl-gray morning. Nearer the road, a spillway kept the surface from freezing. Bobbing on the half-moon it created were a score of ducks. Several more rested on the
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