End of Enemies Read Online Free PDF Page B

years Stucky made the conversion from knuckle dragger to case officer, to Near East (NE) operations deputy, then to NE division chief. He was a natural at office politics and had good instincts about how far and with whom he could push. Around superiors who held a more tolerant view of homosexuality, Stucky was careful to avoid using phrases such as ass bandit or rump ranger. In the company of women, especially since the introduction of stricter harassment rules, Stucky did not discuss their anatomy or in what fashion he wished to fondle it. It was all about knowing where—and how elastic—the line was.
    As a soldier, the routine and regimen of army life suited Stucky. His lackluster people skills notwithstanding, he earned a reputation for ramrodding tough jobs. Subordinates followed him not out of respect but out of fear. They were simply too afraid to go against him.
    Stucky knew he’d found his home when he stepped through the doors of the south Detroit army recruiting office at the age of eighteen. He’d been a bully in high school, and he was a bully in boot camp. Surrounded by young men frightened by the harshness of basic training, Stucky thrived. Even at that early age, he knew that when you’re at your lowest, it feels good to belong to a group and to make others feel worse than you.
    His first tour in the highlands of Vietnam proved two things: One, Stucky was cool under fire; and two, Stucky liked hurting people. The first quality made him a perfect sergeant, and the last quality was largely overlooked. In the middle of a firefight, when your biggest concern was being overrun, a creature like Stucky improved the odds dramatically.
    Though Stucky’s moderate success with the CIA would later have the Personnel Directorate scratching its collective head, he was in fact currently running SYMMETRY, one of the CIA’s two most critical ongoing operations.
    He plopped down in his chair, searched his drawer for a bottle of aspirin, and downed four of them dry. The secure phone rang. He snatched it up. “Stucky.”
    â€œUh, Peterson here, sir. He’s called back—on protocol, this time. I’ll hang up, there’ll be a series of tone bursts, then—”
    â€œYeah, yeah. Put it through.”
    As advertised, Stucky heard a tone burst as the call went through the electronic scrubbers. Then a voice: “Hello? Hello?”
    Stucky checked his watch; duration for landline calls was ninety seconds. “Three, this is Limestone. You have a report?”
    â€œYes, yes. I—” There was the crackle of automatic weapons in the background. “Marcus is gone, Limestone. They took him.”
    â€œWho took him? When?”
    â€œIt was last night—no, this morning, about three hours ago. He missed our meet, so I went to find him.”
    â€œGoddamn it!”
    â€œYes, I know, but I was worried. I went to his apartment. They put him in a car and drove away.”
    â€œGive me details.” The man did so. “Do you know this group?” asked Stucky.
    â€œNo. What should I do? I’m afraid. Should I—”
    â€œDon’t do anything, you understand? Nothing! If you have any meetings set, wave them off. Pretend none of it exists. You understand?”
    â€œYes, but what do I do?”
    â€œYou’re not listening!” Stucky glanced at his watch: twenty seconds to go. “Go about your business. Whatever you normally do during the day, do that. Got it?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhere you’re calling from … Is it safe?”
    â€œIn this city? It is as good a place as any.”
    â€œFine. Call back at this time two days from now. I’ll be waiting.”
    â€œTwo days from now, this time. Understood.”
    Stucky hung up, thought for a moment, then redialed. “Peterson, get me the DDO on the secure line.”

3
    Washington, D.C.
    Director of Central Intelligence Dick Mason forced a smile on his face