Endgame (Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #6)

By David Michaels

The nationwide safety Agency's top-secret initiative to guard the USA from power threats has been dubbed the 3rd Echelon. It deploys a lone box operative. he's sharp, approximately invisible, and lethal. And he has the fitting to undercover agent, thieve, wreck, and assassinate to guard American freedoms.

His identify is Sam Fisher. he's a Splinter Cell®Third Echlon.

Operative Fisher understands that numerous disastrous missions have depleted the ranks of the Splinter Cells. What he doesn’t comprehend is lovely piece of proof has been exposed that issues to the mole who offered out his executive…

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Grimsdóttir, spoken within the tone of a personal schoolteacher addressing his unlucky student. “Hello, Ms. Grimsdóttir. ” She winced and fired again, “How you doing, Nick,” in her top long island accessory, as if addressing one of many boys. He took an extended breath. “I’ve come for an replace on Fisher. ” “I would’ve been chuffed to name or e mail you. . . . ” “You nonetheless imagine Fisher is in Reims? ” “We do. The team’s already began its research. ” “But Fisher might be gone. ” “He’s no longer. ” “You’re definite?

Yet what the hell? except he’d performed that to get the police concerned. however the name had are available earlier than he’d triggered the wear. unusual. Or now not so. Fisher had deliberate all of it. yet now what used to be he doing? simply fleeing? Or top them someplace? “Where’s he going, Marty? ” Moreau replied with a lopsided grin, then further, “Who’s Marty? ” Hansen spoke via his the teeth: “No extra video games. i would like a solution now! ” Moreau threw up his arms. “Benjamin, i've got no thought the place he’s going, other than away. ” commencing to pant, Hansen drove on, removing slower site visitors and recognizing an indication for the city of Neuwied.

Very well, if Fisher had long gone contained in the stadium, he would’ve needed to purchase a price tag. She couldn't ask each attendant if she or he had visible a guy in a crimson blouse. there have been seven price ticket cubicles and positively other people wearing pink. She fast passed over her bank card to the younger guy in the back of the closest sales space, and he advised her that the sport was once nearly over. She informed him she didn’t care and double-timed it inside of, resisting the temptation to run in order to not draw an excessive amount of awareness to herself. “All correct, I’m within the stadium,” she mentioned.

Why do you ask? ” He avoided his gaze. She had now not flinched, and her voice had no longer wavered. they can hook her as much as a polygraph and the needle wouldn’t budge. She used to be both the main educated liar he’d ever met or she particularly didn’t understand. He blurted out, “I was once within the hangar. Rugar was once going to torture me. I wouldn’t have damaged. i do know that. yet Sergei was once there, and he shot Rugar. after which . . . he used to be going to shoot me. ” She set down her cup of espresso. “But you took him out. ” “I used to be mendacity at the flooring with my palms cuffed at the back of my again.

Sergei floor his tooth, shuddered off the picture, then reached into his breast pocket and dug out a cigarette. He positioned it among his lips, stood, and moved round the cart. Hansen had dug himself out from underneath the fats Russian and used to be mendacity there, asking questions. Sergei slightly heard the guy. He grabbed his lighter, lit his cigarette, and took an extended drag. They talked, and it used to be a like dream, the phrases floating on currents of blood that wound their manner via a dismal woodland on the finish of which lay Victoria, on a stone altar, her fingers folded over her chest, her epidermis alabaster white to check her diaphanous gown, which fell in nice waves around the mossy earth.

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