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

“Don’t be scared,” Zellerbach said, heading for the door. “It turns out that the entire security detail loved dachshunds and hated their mothers.”

Epilogue

Epilogue

Prince George’s County, Maryland
USA

JON SMITH EASED THROUGH the gate of the Anacostia Yacht Club, enjoying the illusion of calm. Tiny snowflakes drifted through the empty branches of trees, the car he was driving was rented, not stolen, and Randi was sitting quietly in the passenger seat trying not to rip out the stitches he’d put in her back.

They came over a small rise and he leaned a little closer to the windshield, examining the car parked in front of Fred Klein’s office: a 1968 Triumph.

He pulled up and stepped out, barely noticing the icy wind penetrating his jacket. It was stunning—a professional restoration that had virtually nothing in common with the hack job he’d done on the one Whitfield wrecked. Reluctant to touch the flawless paint and gleaming chrome, he crouched and looked through the side window at an equally stunning interior. A set of keys dangled from the ignition.

“Fred wanted to show his appreciation,” Randi said, coming up behind him. “He asked me what you would want and I figured this was it.”

“He asked me the same thing about you,” Smith said, going around to the front and admiring the reflection of the clouds in the hood.

“And what did you say?”

“Deuce Brennan.”

A cruel smile spread across her lips. “You know me so well.”

*  *  *

YOU DON’T LOOK TOO MUCH the worse for wear considering the incredible disaster you’ve created,” Maggie said as they entered the office.

The comment hit Smith harder than was intended. He hadn’t slept much since Granada and didn’t expect to anytime soon. The toll of the plan he’d come up with had been terrible. And casualty estimates just kept climbing.

Klein appeared in the doorway. “I’m glad you’re here. Come in.”

He helped Randi with her chair before slipping behind his desk and lighting a pipe. Quiet fans started automatically, pulling the smoke into vents before it could drift out to the firmly anti-tobacco Maggie Templeton.

“So you’re both all right?”

“Nothing permanent,” Smith said. “The car’s phenomenal, Fred. Thank you.”

He gave a barely perceptible nod.

“How are you doing?” Randi said. “Damage control can’t be easy on this.”

“No, it’s pretty much a catastrophe on every level.”

“How many?” Smith asked.

“I don’t think the number’s importa—”

“How many, Fred?”

He frowned and took another pull on his pipe. Reports about what had happened were dominating virtually every news outlet on the planet but solid numbers were hard to come by.

“We’ve gone a little north of three thousand worldwide. Mostly people with preexisting heart conditions. You can’t blame yourself for that, Jon. Without you, it would have been a hell of a lot worse.”