Covert One 4 - The Altman Code Read Online Free PDF

arm was without energy,

lifeless.
    “Avery?”
    There was no answer.
    Smith fell to his haunches beside the downed agent and found hot blood

on the back of his head. Instantly, he felt for a pulse in his neck.
    None. He inhaled, swore, and searched Mondragon’s pockets for the

envelope. At the same time, he heard the killers approach, trying to be

quiet in the heavy undergrowth.
    The envelope was missing. Frantically he checked every pocket again,

taking whatever he found. He felt around Mondragon’s body, but the

envelope was gone. Definitely gone. And there was no more time.
    Cursing inwardly, he sprinted away.
    Clouds had built over the South China Sea and drifted across the moon,

turning the night pitch-black as he reached the road. The deep cover of

darkness was a rare stroke of good luck. Relieved, but furious about

Mondragon’s death, he ran across and dropped into the cover of the low

ditch that bordered the two-lane road.
    Panting, he aimed both Mondragon’s Glock and his Beretta back at the

trees. And waited, thinking … The envelope had been in an inside

pocket. Mondragon had gone down at least twice that Smith had seen. The

envelope could have fallen out then, or perhaps when they were crawling

through the brush, or even when they were running, their jackets

flapping.
    Frustrated and deeply worried, his grip tightened on the two weapons.
    After a few minutes, a single figure emerged warily at the road’s edge,

looked right and left, and started across, his old AK-74 ready. Smith

raised the Beretta. The motion attracted the killer’s attention. He

opened fire blindly. Smith dropped the Glock , aimed the Beretta, and

shot twice in rapid succession.
    The man slammed forward onto his face and lay still. Smith grabbed the

Glock again and opened a withering, sweeping fire with both weapons.
    Shouts and screams sounded from the far side of the road.
    As they echoed in his mind, he leaped out of the ditch and tore away

through the trees toward the center of the island. His feet pounded and

his lungs ached. Sweat poured off him. He did not know how far he ran,

or for how long, but he became aware that there were no sounds of

pursuit. No trampling of brush. No running feet. No gunshots.
    He crouched in the cover of a tree for a full five minutes. It seemed

like five hours. His pulse pounded in his ears. Had they given up? He

and poor Mondragon had killed at least three, wounded two more, and

perhaps had shot others.
    But little of that was important right now. If the killers had quit

their pursuit, it meant only one thing–they had what they had come for.
    They had found the secret invoice manifest of The Dowager Empress.

Covert One 4 - The Altman Code

Chapter Three.
    Washington, D.C.
    Golden sunlight drenched the Rose Garden and made warm rectangles on the

floor of the Oval Office, but somehow it seemed menacing this morning,

President Castilla thought as Charles Ouray, White House chief of staff,

stepped inside the door.
    Ouray looked as unhappy as he felt, the president decided. “Sit down,

Charlie. What’s up?”
    “I’m not so sure you want to hear, Mr. President.” He sat on the sofa.
    “No luck with the leaks?”
    “Zero,” Ouray said, shaking his head. “Leaks of such extent and accuracy

over an entire year should be traceable, but the secret service, FBI,

CIA, and NSA can’t find a thing. They’ve investigated everyone in the

West Wing from the mail room to the whole senior staff, including me.
    The good news is they guarantee the leaks aren’t coming from any of us.
    In fact, the entire White House roster down to cleaning crews and

gardeners is clear.”
    The president tented his hands and scowled at his fingers. “Very well,

what does that leave?”
    Ouray looked wary. “Leave, sir?”
    “Who’s left, Charlie? Who haven’t they investigated who could’ve had

access to the information that’s been leaked? The plans … the policy

decisions. They