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?

Rhodes had, in fact, forgotten that he’d called Jack in a panic. Stupid. He took the measure of his merciless eyes. No point in lying to him now.

Rhodes fell into his chair behind his desk, and stared out of the wide bay window across the snow-covered lawn. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” Rhodes’s imperious voice faded to a whisper.

“He took out three North Korean RGB agents single-handedly, saving my ass, and Lian’s.”

Rhodes sat up. “North Koreans?”

“You should know. You sent them.”

Rhodes shook his head. “No. I didn’t send anybody.”

“At least one of us made it back.”

“Thank God, Jack. I couldn’t bear the thought—”

“Just tell me one thing. Why in the hell would you want to crash the world economy?”

Rhodes scowled in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“The USB drive?”

“It was a software program to crash Dalfan stock. I was using it to place a bet against it and cash in.” The light turned on in Rhodes’s eyes. “At least, that’s what I was told.”

“Bullshit. But even if you’re not lying, you got Paul killed to turn a dirty buck.”

“I swear I didn’t mean to.” Rhodes’s face darkened. “Did Paul ever tell you how he and I knew each other?”

“No.”

“Take a seat. I’d like to tell you.”

“You don’t have the time.”

“Please. For Paul’s sake. I want you to know the kind of man he was.”

“Make it quick.”

“Paul and I were together in Sofia, Bulgaria, back in the eighties. We both worked for the Company.”

“I gathered as much.”

“I was on the fast track—born and bred for it, right? Well, I was posted in Berlin until I got busted out of that assignment and demoted to Sofia—”

“Busted for what?”

“The ambassador’s wife.” Rhodes couldn’t suppress a smile. “At his home. In flagrante delicto.”

Asshole, Jack thought. “You need to finish this.”

“So instead of getting fired outright, I was posted to Sofia—a nod to my father, who was still a man of some influence back then. I was warned that it was my one and only chance to redeem myself—a way to work my way back up from the minor leagues. Truth was, I was never really that good at field craft—especially at recruiting local talent—and I was under a lot of pressure to succeed. The one Bulgarian source I managed to develop was a man in the CSS—”

“Who?”