Tom Clancy's Net Force 6-10 (90 page)

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Authors: Tom Clancy

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BOOK: Tom Clancy's Net Force 6-10
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The Bestselling Novels of
 
TOM CLANCY
RED RABBIT
Tom Clancy returns to Jack Ryan’s early days—in an extraordinary novel of global political drama.
 
“AN OLD-FASHIONED COLD WAR THRILLER.”
—Chicago Sun-Times
 
 
THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON
A clash of world powers. President Jack Ryan’s trial by fire.
 
“HEART-STOPPING ACTION . . . CLANCY STILL REIGNS.”
—The Washington Post
 
 
RAINBOW SIX
John Clark is used to doing the CIA’s dirty work. Now he’s taking on the world.
 
“ACTION-PACKED.”
—The New York Times Book Review
 
 
EXECUTIVE ORDERS
A devastating terrorist act leaves Jack Ryan as President of the United States.
 
“UNDOUBTEDLY CLANCY’S BEST YET.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution continued . . .
 
DEBT OF HONOR
It begins with the murder of an American woman in the back streets of Tokyo. It ends in war.
 
“A SHOCKER.”
—Entertainment Weekly
 
 
THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER
The smash bestseller that launched Clancy’s career—the incredible search for a Soviet defector and the nuclear submarine he commands.
 
“BREATHLESSLY EXCITING.”
—The Washington Post
 
 
RED STORM RISING
The ultimate scenario for World War III—the final battle for global control.
 
“THE ULTIMATE WAR GAME . . . BRILLIANT.”
—Newsweek
 
 
PATRIOT GAMES
CIA analyst Jack Ryan stops an assassination—and incurs the wrath of Irish terrorists.
 
“A HIGH PITCH OF EXCITEMENT.”
—The Wall Street Journal
 
THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN
The superpowers race for the ultimate Star Wars missile defense system.
 

CARDINAL
 EXCITES, ILLUMINATES . . . A REAL PAGE-TURNER.”
—Los Angeles Daily News
 
 
CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER
The killing of three U.S. officials in Colombia ignites the American government’s explosive, and top secret, response.
 
“A CRACKLING GOOD YARN.”
—The Washington Post
 
 
THE SUM OF ALL FEARS
The disappearance of an Israeli nuclear weapon threatens the balance of power in the Middle East—and around the world.
 
“CLANCY AT HIS BEST . . . NOT TO BE MISSED.”
—The Dallas Morning News
 
 
WITHOUT REMORSE
The Clancy epic fans have been waiting for. His code name is Mr. Clark. And his work for the CIA is brilliant, cold-blooded, and efficient . . . but who is he really?
 
“HIGHLY ENTERTAINING.”
—The Wall Street Journal
Novels by Tom Clancy
THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER 
RED STORM RISING 
PATRIOT GAMES 
THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN 
CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER 
THE SUM OF ALL FEARS 
WITHOUT REMORSE 
DEBT OF HONOR 
EXECUTIVE ORDERS 
RAINBOW SIX 
THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON 
RED RABBIT
 
SSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE
 
 
Nonfiction
 
SUBMARINE: A GUIDED TOUR INSIDE A NUCLEAR WARSHIP 
ARMORED CAV: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN ARMORED CAVALRY REGIMENT 
FIGHTER WING: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIR FORCE COMBAT WING 
MARINE: A GUIDED TOUR OF A MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT 
AIRBORNE: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRBORNE TASK FORCE 
CARRIER: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER 
SPECIAL FORCES: A GUIDED TOUR OF U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES
 
INTO THE STORM: A STUDY IN COMMAND 
(written with General Fred Franks)
 
EVERY MAN A TIGER 
(written with General Charles Horner)
 
SHADOW WARRIORS: INSIDE THE SPECIAL FORCES 
(written with General Carl Stiner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)
 
Created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik
 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MIRROR IMAGE 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: GAMES OF STATE 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: ACTS OF WAR 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: BALANCE OF POWER 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: STATE OF SIEGE 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: DIVIDE AND CONQUER 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: LINE OF CONTROL 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MISSION OF HONOR 
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: SEA OF FIRE
 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: HIDDEN AGENDAS 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: NIGHT MOVES 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: BREAKING POINT 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: POINT OF IMPACT 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CYBERNATION 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: STATE OF WAR 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CHANGING OF THE GUARD
 
 
Created by Tom Clancy and Martin Greenberg
 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: POLITIKA 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: RUTHLESS.COM 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: SHADOW WATCH 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: BIO-STRIKE 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: COLD WAR 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: CUTTING EDGE 
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: ZERO HOUR
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.
 
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE
®
: CHANGING OF THE GUARD
 
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with 
Netco Partners
 
PRINTING HISTORY 
Berkley edition / December 2003
 
Copyright © 2003 by Netco Partners.
 
All rights reserved. 
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without 
permission. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via 
the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the 
publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only 
authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or 
encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. 
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. 
For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, 
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
 
eISBN : 978-1-101-00242-1
 
BERKLEY
®
 
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, 
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. 
BERKLEY and the “B” design 
are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
 
 
Acknowledgments
We would like to acknowledge the assistance of Martin H. Greenberg, Denise Little, John Helfers, Brittiany Koren, Lowell Bowen, Esq., Robert Youdelman, Esq., Danielle Forte, Esq., Dianne Jude, and Tom Colgan, our editor. But most important, it is for you, our readers, to determine how successful our collective endeavor has been.
 
—Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik
PROLOGUE
October 2013 C.E.
Khvoy, Iran

 

Celik the Turk took a sip of coffee. It was bitter, full of grounds, and it had gone cold, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He was a little nervous. At fifty, even after twenty-six years in the game, he was always a little nervous at this stage. Death was a spy’s constant companion, but Celik had outrun Him every time before, and even though he was slower now than he had been as a young man, he had no reason to believe he couldn’t outrun the grave diggers one more time.
He took a deep drag from his hand-rolled, unfiltered cigarette. The cheap tobacco was harsh; the greasy blue smoke bit his throat and lungs when he inhaled. He would have better when he was home in Ankara.
The cafe was small—tiny, really—only four tables, a family operation that catered to locals. The building was concrete block, the floor packed dirt, tamped hard over the years, and the furniture was clean but very old. The people who owned the cafe were Turks, though they didn’t wave that in anybody’s face. Even though the border was only a few kilometers away, this was still Iran, and the Irani and the Turk had not been the best of friends in anybody’s memory. The food might or might not have been good. For Celik, when he was on a mission, breakfast was always the same—coffee and a cigarette. A full man did not move as fast as one with an empty stomach.
Kokmak was late. This might be a bad sign. Or it might mean nothing at all, save that Kokmak had overslept.
Except for the old man serving him coffee and a younger version of the old man sometimes visible through a beaded curtain hung over the door to the kitchen, Celik was alone.
He smoked the cigarette down to a nub, until it was too hot to hold. He stubbed it out on a chipped, clouded glass ashtray somebody had stolen from a Hyatt Hotel. He stripped the paper and carefully put the last bit of tobacco back into the tin he carried in his left vest pocket, shook the tin to mix it in, then rolled another cigarette, using a strawberry-flavored Zig-Zag paper. The paper was pink and, he supposed, had some distant relation to the taste of strawberries. He did not care. It amused him to smoke pink cigarettes, and he knew that no one would mark him as a secret operative of a foreign service from the colorful paper; in fact, they would notice a man who smoked pink fags, and in so doing, assume that he wasn’t a spy—a spy would not do anything as stupid as that to draw attention to himself. A bit of reverse psychology, and one that Celik was proud of.
The color of his smokes notwithstanding, he looked like most men he had passed in this town. Swart, a thick black moustache, black hair going gray under a cap, clothes that were old, patched, dusty, but not too raggedy. Just another poor Turk on his way back to his dust farm or small shop, stopping in for coffee before he got back on the road. Nothing unusual about him.
Outside, a twelve-year-old flatbed truck, a German machine with a hundred and fifty thousand kilometers on it, sat parked on the side of the building that would grow shady when the sun began its morning climb. Not that he would be there when it did, but it was an old habit to prepare for the sun when it came.

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