BooksBarbecue
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

“Is this cocaine?” the hacker said, bringing his nose within a few inches before Smith grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the table containing the laptop.

“Just dust from the insulation, Marty. Why don’t you fire that thing up and see if you can get online.”

It was another lie. The plane belonged to a Colombian acquaintance of Randi’s who had helped her do away with a couple of Hamas guys looking to get into the drug trade. It had been a mutually beneficial operation—she got rid of two terrorists and he got rid of two potential competitors—that had gone smoothly enough to prompt them to stay loosely in touch.

Once Zellerbach was settled and had forgotten the coke in favor of the even more addictive glow of the computer screen, Smith went forward and took the copilot’s seat.

“Nice rig,” he shouted, putting on a headset as the props came up to speed. “You think it’ll actually make it over the Atlantic?”

“Diego swears it’s a cream puff.”

She eased the throttles forward and the plane bumped its way to the makeshift runway.

“And you trust him?”

“Truth be told, he has a thing for me. And he’s dying for me to go to work for him. Apparently, he has some other competitors he’d like retired.”

“Good work if you can get it.”

She grinned and twisted around to look through the tattered cockpit curtains. “Hang on, Marty!”

Despite its appearance, the plane felt solid as they lofted into the air and began to bank out over the jungle. Randi had an intense expression of concentration on her face and Smith remained silent. With her questionable skills and the unfamiliar aircraft, her focus was best left unmolested.

After a few minutes, they leveled out and she relaxed a little. The brief calm before it got dark and instrument-flying was required.

“What did Fred say?” she asked.

Smith had spoken with him on the way to South America, keeping his end of the conversation necessarily opaque due to Zellerbach.

“He talked to the president.”

Randi winced. “Shit. I knew it. It’s a bad call, Jon.”

There was no denying that it was a risk. Klein wasn’t willing to go completely off the books with this many lives at stake, though, and he’d been fairly certain he could convince the president that the risk to his family was limited.