Authors: Allan Topol
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Conspiracy
A Novel
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by
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Allan Topol
National Bestselling Author
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Published by
ePublishing Works!
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ISBN: 978-1-61417-136-2
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Without limiting the rights under copyright(s) reserved above and below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
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Please Note
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright 2004, 2011 by Allan J. Topol
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Cover by Victor Mingovits
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eBook design by eBook Prep
www.ebookprep.com
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Thank You
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"John Grisham and Richard North Patterson may have a new successor in Topol...As entertaining as it is complex, this energetic narrative is loaded with close calls and compelling relationships." ~
Publishers Weekly
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"Plotwise, Topol is up there with such masters of the labyrinthine, as Robert Ludlum and Tom Clancy." ~
Washington Post
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By Allan Topol
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Fiction
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The Fourth of July War
A Woman of Valor
Spy Dance
Dark Ambition
Conspiracy
Enemy of My Enemy
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Non Fiction
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Co-Author of
Superfund Law and Procedure
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For my wife, Barbara, who, with her love of piano,
helps me with the major chords as well as the
grace notes.
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Prologue
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The normally cool and unflappable Yahiro Sato was furious. Someone had found out about his trip to Buenos Aires.
"Repeat what you just told me," he said tensely to Terasawa.
The bodyguard was in the ornate lobby of the Alvear Palace Hotel, in a corner behind a white marble pillar, speaking on a cell phone rather than the house phone to minimize the chances of an eavesdropper.
"I was down here keeping my eyes open, as you directed, when a man walked into the hotel. I don't know his name, but I've seen him before in Tokyo. He's one of Prime Minister Nakamura's lackeys."
"You're sure of that?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay. Then what?"
"I moved off to the side behind a post so he couldn't see me, but I heard him when he went up to the reception desk."
Sato gripped the phone tightly. "And?"
"He told the reception clerk that he was with your party. He wanted a room close by the presidential suite."
How could he have known that's where I was?
Sato asked himself. There had to be a leak among the clerical people in his office. When he got back to Tokyo he'd fire the lot of them. Radical surgery for a serious cancer.
"So he was put in room eight-twenty," Terasawa continued, "two doors away from you. He's already gone upstairs. What do you want me to do?"
There was only one possible conclusion, Sato decided. Nakamura had sent the worm to spy on him, to see whom he was meeting. He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. It was already seven-fifteen in the evening. He had asked the American to fly down from Washington and come to the presidential suite at eleven. When he arrived, Nakamura's worm couldn't be permitted to see him under any circumstances.