The Assassin's List Read Online Free PDF

quickly asked another question before Drake reached them.
    “Richard,” Drake called ahead, “before you continue, may I speak with you for a moment?” He motioned to Martin to follow, and walked to the back of his office.
    “Have they been here long?” Drake asked.
    “For an hour or so. They’re asking, ‘Was I having an affair with Janice? Who could have turned off the security system? Did I suspect any of my employees?’ This is a nightmare. This is the stuff you see winding up in the tabloids.”
    “Relax, that’s why I’m here. Go tell your people everything’s under control, this is routine, and you’ll brief them before the end of the day. I’ll talk with the police for a while.”
    Martin left, and Drake walked up to Detective Carson.
    “Steve, I want you to listen carefully. There’s important work going on here, and we’ll cooperate fully with your investigation. You need to minimize the disruption, though. You’re scaring these people.”
    “Well, I’m sorry all to hell, Drake. There was a murder here. It’s my job to find the lady’s killer. If that disrupts some new video game this company is working on, then the consumers will just have to suffer a while.”
    “As usual, you haven’t done your homework. Martin Research is a defense contractor for the government. The consumers are us, and no, we can’t wait for you to plod your way through this investigation. Now, why don’t you tell me what you need. I’ll make sure you get it, as quickly as possible.”
    Detective Carson looked like he wanted to settle old scores with one punch.
    “Drake, I don’t like you. I’ll never forget what you did to me. This is my investigation. What I need to know is how this buttoned-up, high-tech place allowed some killer to get in and kill this lady. Was this an inside job? Does someone know something he’s not telling me? If you can help me with that, great. If not, get out of my way or I’ll arrest your ass for obstruction of justice.”
    Drake smiled and gently put a finger on the detective’s chest.
    “Steve, as much as we both don’t like it, we’re on the same side here. But don’t ever threaten me again. I kept you out of jail once. I won’t do it again. Do your job and remember, I know the rules better than you do. If you need to talk with Richard Martin again, call me.”
    With that, Drake left, in search of the CEO, and some answers.

 
    Chapter 7
    The United Airlines flight from Las Vegas to Aruba via Charlotte, North Carolina took nearly thirteen hours on the same day Drake was meeting with the police at Martin Research. The man sitting in the rear window seat of first class, however, didn’t mind.
    He wore the casual dress of a business traveler, comfortable with the anonymity it provided. Of course, he also had a false passport and altered appearance. Most observers would remember dyed-gray hair, stylish wire-rimmed glasses, and the cane he used when he moved, if they remembered anything at all.
    His private jet would have been faster and more comfortable, but it could be tracked. At this stage, he didn’t want anyone to know where he was going or who he was meeting. Especially not the man he was meeting.
    David Barak was known as Malik, or the Leader, to his followers. They knew him by no other name. He was traveling to meet the man coordinating the war against the West from the Tri-Border Area of South America. Of the three-quarters of a million residents there, more than twenty-five thousand were Arabs. In that number, a significant number of jihadists and international terrorist organizations were represented.
    Western intelligence hadn’t been able to identify all the players in the TBA because it was a wild frontier, for the most part lawless. The various agencies knew the cartel and jihadist organizations were getting along, or at least cooperating with each other in unusual ways. The reason, Barak knew, was that one entity, known as the “Alliance,” coordinated the