Scorpion: A Covert Ops Novel (Second Edition) Read Online Free PDF Page A

upside is that Cramer
is a mean, stubborn old bastard, and I can trust him try to drag it out and give
us time to protect our people. His last medical report shows that he’s in
excellent health, especially for his age.”
    Avery nodded.
He’d gone through National Clandestine Service training at the Farm and knew
the basics of spook tradecraft, including mock interrogations and simulated
torture, like sleep and sensory deprivation, solitary confinement, and water
boarding. It was as close to the real thing as they could make it, similar to
the Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) training he’d undergone in
the army.
    An intelligence
agency generally acted on the assumption that a captured agent undergoing
torture would breakdown and begin talking within thirty-six hours, as proven by
past episodes of agents being taken. That’s the timeframe Langley allowed
before sources and ops needed to be considered compromised. It was up to D/NCS
and the Central Eurasia Division chief to work out whether or not any of
Dushanbe station’s agents were blown and worth risking additional assets to
extract.
     “Why come to me?
I’m sure there are already half a dozen agencies working this. This isn’t a
normal job for scorpions.”
    “Right,” Culler
said. “Office of Security is investigating this matter, but we both know
they’re mostly interested in placing blame and covering the Seventh Floor’s
ass. Then bring in the Diplomatic Security Service, FBI, and the Tajik KGB. You
know how that will go. It’s going to become a long, drawn-out investigation, with
everyone pointing fingers and fighting for turf. We do not have that kind of
time. Bob doesn’t have that kind of time. We need someone who doesn’t have an
agenda and whose hands won’t be tied, someone who can gather the evidence and
follow it to its conclusion and take immediate and direct action, if the
situation calls for it.
    Avery was by no
means a stranger to this sort of job. After serving in the Agency’s
paramilitary Special Activities Division (SAD), he’d worked as a “cleaner,”
salvaging and sanitizing blown or compromised operations overseas. He’d quietly
go in, remove the Agency’s fingerprints from an embarrassing situation or mitigate
the potential for blowback, and slip back out.
    He felt an added
pressure now, though. Usually his was the only life on the line. He took
comfort in knowing that if he fucked up, he was dead or in jail, which wouldn’t
matter to anyone else. He didn’t like being responsible for someone else’s life.
It had been different when he was in the army, working as part of a larger,
cohesive unit. But later, with SAD in Iraq, when he’d been tasked with locating
and rescuing an aid worker taken hostage, and failed to bring her out by a
matter of minutes, instead recovering a decapitated body, he’d decided he
wanted only to look out for himself. The fact that he personally knew Cramer
only added to the burden.
    “What’s the
opposition?” Avery asked, trying to move his thoughts forward.
    “No one has
claimed responsibility, and there’s no physical evidence left behind, but we
believe it’s terrorism, and that means either al-Qaeda or IMU.”
    Avery had dealt
with plenty of both during his time in Afghanistan.
    The Islamic
Movement of Uzbekistan was created after the collapse of the Soviet Union and
was a close ally of the Taliban. Its membership comprised Central Asian
Muslims, many of whom have served in the Russian military, and they had a
reputation for being fierce and vicious fighters.
    Avery had seen
firsthand what they were capable of doing and sincerely hoped that those
animals didn’t have Cramer. Avery would rather be killed outright than spend a
few days held captive by IMU or al-Qaeda or Taliban. He prepared himself for
the worst and realized the odds were against bringing Bob out alive.
    “When do I
leave?”
    “Immediately,”
Culler said. “There’s a Learjet being prepped at