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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

Dresner raised the gun to the back of his friend’s head. He wouldn’t feel any pain. None of them would. The computer that made him who he was would just turn off. Forever.

The sound echoed through the confines of the concrete passage, and blood splashed hot across Dresner’s face. He let the gun fall next to his friend’s body as he once again told himself that there had been no choice. That Eichmann was a weak link in the chain he’d spent the better part of half a century forging. And while it was all true, it did nothing to diminish the profound sense of emptiness he felt. For the first time since he’d been dropped in front of the orphanage in Erfurt, he was truly alone.

61

61

Frederick, Maryland
USA

JON SMITH PULLED THE CHEESECAKE he’d bought from its box and limped into his living room with it and a newly opened bottle of whiskey. The new sofa was a bit of a monument to form over function, but exhaustion had a way of making just about anything comfortable.

He took a large bite from the edge of the cake, feeling it settle uncomfortably on top of half the Taco Bell menu. He’d dropped more than ten pounds in the last two weeks—weight his already spare body couldn’t afford to do without.

The slap of bare feet became audible and he lay back in the cushions, closing his eyes and listening to Randi drop into the chair across from him.

“Nice place,” she said, pouring herself a drink. “Looks like a picture from a catalog.”

“And the cabin doesn’t?”

“Yeah, but not a Kmart catalog.”

There was no denying that the place she stayed in was a lot nicer and had the added benefit of being nearly as well armed as a Ticonderoga-class cruiser. Too bad it was full of workmen trying to get the smell of gas out.

“You gonna eat that pie, Jon?”

“Help yourself.”

She gnawed noisily on it for a few moments before speaking through a full mouth. “So what now?”

It was a question he’d known was coming. In some ways Randi Russell was a complete loose cannon, but in others she was infinitely predictable.

“Back to work for the both of us.”

The silence that ensued seemed a little angry and he kept his eyes closed, avoiding confirming that impression. What did she have to complain about? She’d go back to Afghanistan or Yemen or Iraq and lose herself in her life again. He had no such luxury.