The Great Deception Read Online Free Page B

from Moldova.

    The trivial occupation of playing cards
didn't hold anything for the rough character. Everyone he worked
with knew better just to let the warrior brood. That's what he did.
His social skills weren't too good anyway; his attitude often was
as snappy as a black bear smarting from a shoulder wound. Seth wore
a snarly twisted scowl with battle scars marking his chiseled cheek
bones. During exfils, Seth suited up for maximum readiness. Even
though it was just a transfer from one safe house on to the next,
the hardened Mossad agent treated it like it was his most dangerous
mission. In an emergency he came ready with liquid body armor and a
hang-glider system on his back in the extreme case the helicopter
was compromised.
    All of the seemingly unnecessary precautions
he took came from losing colleagues in the field due to a lack of
preparedness. Never would that happen to him if he could help it,
he determined. Ultimately, what Seth wanted most was to destroy the
enemies of the state until there were no more. And then maybe, just
maybe he could tell his son Azriel one day who is daddy really was.
Seth knew he'd be old and gray and his son, married with kids
before Azriel would ever know the real story about his father. Then
again, there was a very real possibility he might never get that
opportunity: coming back home, wherever that was, couldn't be
guaranteed.

    --

    The Ozarks

    Damion's heart palpitated more than he was
accustomed to. The situation was such: in a jail cell belonging to
a female inmate who was a little more than mildly attractive to
him. However, Christophe his loyal friend and chief scientist
shared the same view.

    Heather's question of why they had been
brought to the Ozarks facility still rolled around in his brain,
having not yet found the answer he thought she would want to hear.
He lowered his chin and looked up at the ceiling. "We, um--we're
POW's. Scorpion had it in for us so they ordered the hit. Bada
bing, bada boom, we're here, like magic."
    Heather analyzed the billionaire. It didn't
take long for the follow-up question to the first: "What makes you
so valuable to the agency that they'd wanna take you in alive?"
Christophe stepped forward and appeared ready to talk. His first
words came out more French than American.

    Anglais s'il vous pla î t. “ English,
please, ” Heather said cracking a smile.
"Yes, of course," Christophe apologized, turning red in the
process. "We work for the FRN. We hold lots of major military
contracts with their security forces that Scorpion is very
interested in."
    "Yeah, wouldn't they love to know what we're
capable of," Damion bitterly quipped. Heather held up a hand and
squinted. "Wait a minute, do I--know you?" she was addressing
Damion.
    "I don't know, do you?"
    The proverbial light bulb lit up in
Heather ’ s mind. "You're that guy who
started the nuclear fusion revolution in the transportation sector.
Right?" Damion was flattered.
    "Yup, I did that," he replied modestly.
"You ’ re so kind to take all the credit
kid," his partner in innovation needled him in the side.
    "Sorry," Damion mumbled back.
    "Look, fellas, I'm not really in a talking
mood, but a lot has happened to me in the past twenty-four hours
and I've been dying to share it with someone."
    Both men's ears burned with curiosity
now.
    "Make yourselves comfortable?" Heather was
trying to play the part of hospitable host. Damion plopped his
weight down on the concrete floor rather hastily. He was eager for
a story. As Heather continued to talk, the fonder he became of
her.
    Kara was now a distant country from his
vantage point on an island surrounded by a sea of question marks.
He had no clue if being held in isolation would be his new
permanent residence.
    So much for those dang Viper agents
coming to our rescue, the thought slipped into the
billionaire's head as he listened to the British woman's strange
accounting of her last day before waking up to her present
reality.
    Christophe