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Back The Utopia Experiment Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Title Page
  2. Welcome
  3. Prologue
  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. Epilogue
  81. About the Authors
  82. The Covert-One Novels
  83. Newsletters
  84. Copyright

“Konrad. He made an unauthorized phone call, but I don’t know to whom. When I questioned him about it, he tried to kill me. Can you imagine? After everything I’ve done for him? I’m afraid I had to shoot him.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she said sarcastically.

“And thank you for coming here and ending my life as I know it.”

“Look, I’m going to send some people—”

“No, you’ve already done quite enough. The first thing I did when I started this business was make preparations for my retirement. Good-bye, Randi. We won’t see each other again.”

She severed the connection and leaned up between the seats. “Why does this son of a bitch still have ten fingers?”

He began to protest in panicked, rapid-fire German again, but Smith tuned him out. The man’s age, dull eyes, and cheap suit suggested that he was nobody—a former low-level Stasi agent who used the endless supply of neo-Nazi idiots to make a buck. Whoever they were up against wasn’t stupid enough to reveal their identity to him.

Smith’s foot bumped something under the seat and he pulled out a small bag stuffed with euros. He handed it back to Randi, who immediately started counting.

“I’m a little insulted at the amount,” she said. “But it’s definitely enough to get us upgraded to first class with a little left over for a decent dinner in Frankfurt.”

“That’s not your money!” the man sputtered, eyes widening enough to suggest that he’d already committed the funds to men who expected those kinds of commitments to be honored.

Smith shrugged. “Then maybe you should try asking her to give it back.”

41

41

Near Salihorsk
Belarus

JAMES WHITFIELD STEPPED THROUGH the door already suspecting what he would find. He’d been to three of Dresner’s compounds in the past and found them to be virtually identical. This was no exception.

The layout of the garden was familiar, though it was populated mostly with native plants that could survive the local climate. It was barely fifty degrees but the high walls kept out the breeze and the sun was directly overhead, beating down on him as he walked along a stone pathway.

The governments of the world loved Dresner for spreading his wealth—setting up homes, research centers, and manufacturing plants in its every corner. And while there may have been some altruistic ancillary benefit, Whitfield had come to learn that Dresner’s primary motivator was paranoia.

Not that this was particularly hard to understand after what the Nazis and Soviets had done to him and his family. While Whitfield’s career had provided more than a few glimpses into the dark side of human nature, Dresner had stared right into the abyss.