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Back Line of Control Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. LINE Of CONTROL
  2. Acknowledgments
  3. PROLOGUE.
  4. CHAPTER ONE.
  5. CHAPTER TWO.
  6. CHAPTER THREE.
  7. CHAPTER FOUR.
  8. CHAPTER FIVE.
  9. CHAPTER SIX.
  10. CHAPTER SEVEN.
  11. CHAPTER EIGHT.
  12. CHAPTER NINE.
  13. CHAPTER TEN.
  14. CHAPTER ELEVEN.
  15. CHAPTER TWELVE.
  16. CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
  17. CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
  18. CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
  19. CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
  20. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
  21. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
  22. CHAPTER NINETEEN.
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY.
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY.
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.
  43. CHAPTER FORTY.
  44. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE.
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT.
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE.
  53. CHAPTER FIFTY.
  54. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO.
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE.
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR.
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE.
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX.
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN.
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT.
  62. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE.
  63. CHAPTER SIXTY.
  64. CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE.
  65. CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO.
  66. CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE.
  67. CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR.
  68. CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE.
  69. CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX.
  70. CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN.
  71. CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT.
  72. CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE.
  73. CHAPTER SEVENTY.

Before he left, Rodgers secured the flashlight in his left hand shoulder strap. There were powerful cadmium batteries in the specially made lights. The bulb itself was a low intensity scatter-beam in front of a highly polished mirror.

They would definitely last through the night. As he rested the toe of his left boot on the "toe" of the glacier, he took one last look up the mountain of ice.

"I'm going to beat you," he muttered.

"I'm going to get up there and finish the job my team started."

Rodgers's eyes continued up through the darkness. He saw the stars, which were dimly visible through the wispy clouds.

Time seemed to vanish and Rodgers suddenly felt as if he were every warrior who had ever undertaken a journey, from the Vikings to the present. And as he jabbed the base of one crampon into the ice and reached up with a piton, Mike Rodgers no longer saw stars. He saw the eyes of those warriors looking down on him.

And among them the eyes of the Strikers looking after him.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.

Washington, D. C. Thursday, 12:00 p. m.

The embassy of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan is located in a small, high-gated estate on Massachusetts Avenue in northwest D. C. Ron Plummer drove his Saab to the gate, where a voice on the other end of the intercom buzzed him through. He headed up the curving concrete driveway to a second security checkpoint at the back of the mansion.

Plummer pulled up to the white double doors and was greeted by a security guard. The man was dressed in a black business suit. He wore sunglasses, a headset, and a bulletproof vest under his white shirt. He carried a handgun in a shoulder holster. The man checked Plummer's ID then directed him to a visitor's spot in the small lot. The guard waited while Plummer parked.

As he hurried back to the mansion, Ron Plummer ran a hand through his untamed, thinning brown hair and adjusted his thick, black-framed glasses. The thirty-nine-year-old former CIA intelligence analyst for Western Europe was not just feeling the pressure of his own part in this drama. The political and economics officer was also aware of how many things had to go right or the Indian subcontinent would explode.