BooksBarbecue
Back Point of Contact Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“I’m a great multitasker.” Yong threw back the rest of his tequila.

“More?”

“Of course.” His eyes fixed on the heart-shaped mole over her lip, stirring a memory. Blood rushed to his manhood.

“What’s Ryan up to?” She finished her glass.

Yong snorted; the blood retreated. “He’s a nosy bastard. I’ve never known an auditor to be so pushy.”

Meili stroked the back of Yong’s neck as she watched the screen over his shoulder. “He’s becoming quite a problem.”

“He’ll head to the warehouse tonight.”

“In this weather? No way.” Meili dragged her nails gently across his back.

“He’s persistent.”

“What do you intend to do about it?”

“Scare him off.”

Meili stopped rubbing him. “We need to kill him.”

Yong gazed at her. “Too risky. Besides, he won’t find what he’s looking for.”

“No, he won’t, but he’ll just keep looking. You said yourself he’s persistent. We need to get rid of him.”

“We can’t kill him. It will bring the cops in—or worse, the Americans.”

“It won’t be a problem if it looks like an accident. He’s not supposed to be sneaking around in that warehouse, right? A large crate could fall on him, or maybe he interrupts a burglary in progress.”

“It can’t be traced back to me—or Lian.”

“It won’t.”

“Let’s do it my way first.” Yong picked up a phone.

“There isn’t much time.” Meili picked up her phone. “You call your men, I’ll call the warehouse. If your plan fails, mine won’t. But one way or another, Jack Ryan will be dealt with tonight.”

—

The rain hammered on the metal roof of the garage as Jack climbed into the white Nissan NV200 compact cargo van plastered with a Dalfan-logo vehicle wrap. The automatic garage door opened and sheets of heavy silver raindrops poured in front of the van’s bright halogen headlights. The storm was definitely getting worse.

The van smelled showroom-new. The odometer read three hundred and forty-two kilometers. He logged in his destination on Google Maps even though his cell signal was still jammed in this location, but he knew it would pull up once he left the property.

He approached the automated gate and it swung open. No guard was in the shack, but he was certain the security cameras were logging license plates. With the brim of his hat pulled over his eyes and his head tilted down, he was confident that his face wouldn’t be seen by the cameras, allowing him the slimmest possibility of denial if it came to that.

Jack pulled out onto Changi North Crescent and headed for the PIE. It wasn’t the fastest route, but he’d done it enough times to feel comfortable taking it even if for some reason Google Maps or the onboard-vehicle GPS couldn’t pull up his route.