The Prometheus Deception Read Online Free PDF

suddenly, hits a pedestrian, and disappears. The pinprick a subject may not even feel as he makes his way through a crowded shopping mall, followed by the open-and-shut diagnosis of coronary failure. An ordinary mugging gone awry, in a city that still had one of the highest rates of street crime in the nation.
    â€œThis is the line of work that we have chosen,” said Waller gently. “Our responsibility supersedes all bonds of kinship and affection. I wish it were otherwise. You don’t know how much. In my time, I’ve had to … sanction three of my men. Good men gone bad. No, not even bad, just unprofessional. I live with that every day, Nick. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Three men . I’m begging you—don’t make it four.” Was it a threat? A plea? Both? Waller let his breath out slowly. “I’m offering you life, Nick. A very good life.”
    *   *   *
    But what lay ahead for Bryson wasn’t life, not just yet. It was a sort of fugue state, a shadowy half-death. For fifteen years, he had devoted his whole being—every brain cell, every muscle fiber—to a peculiarly hazardous and strenuous endeavor. Now his services would no longer be required. And Bryson felt nothing, just a profound emptiness. He made his way home, to the handsome colonial-style house in Falls Church that barely seemed familiar any longer. He cast his eyes over the house as if it were a stranger’s, taking in the tasteful Aubussons that Elena had picked out, the hopeful pastel-painted room on the second floor for the child they never had. The place was both empty and full of ghosts. Then he poured himself a water tumbler full of vodka. It was the last time he would be fully sober in weeks.
    The house was full of Elena, of her scent, her taste, her aura. He could not forget her.
    They were sitting on the dock in front of their lakeside cabin in Maryland, watching the sailboat.… She poured him a glass of cold white wine, and as she handed it to him she kissed him. “I miss you,” she said .
    â€œBut I’m right here, my darling.”
    â€œNow you are. Tomorrow you’ll be gone. To Prague, to Sierra Leone, to Jakarta, to Hong Kong … who knows where? And who knows for how long?”
    He took her hand, feeling her loneliness, unable to banish it. “But I always come back. And you know the expression, Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
    â€œMai rãrut, mai drãgut,” she said softly, musingly. “But you know, in my country, they say something else . Celor ce duc mai mult dorul, le pare mai dulce odorul. Absence sharpens love, but presence strengthens it.”
    â€œI like that.”
    She raised an index finger, wagged it in his face. “They also say something else . Prin depãrtare dragostea se uitã. How do you say—long absent, soon forgotten?”
    â€œOut of sight, out of mind.”
    â€œHow long before you forget me?”
    â€œBut you’re always with me, my love.” He tapped his chest. “In here.”
    *   *   *
    He had no doubt the Directorate had him under electronic surveillance; he hardly cared. If they assessed him as a security risk, they would certainly sanction him. Perhaps with enough vodka, he thought grimly, he might even save them the trouble. Days passed, and he saw and heard from no one. Maybe Waller interceded at consortium level to cut him slack, because he knew it wasn’t just the severance that caused him to fall apart. It was Elena’s departure. Elena, the anchor of his existence. Acquaintances would sometimes say how calm Nick always seemed, but Nick seldom felt calm: calm was what Elena had provided. What was Waller’s phrase for her? A passionate serenity .
    Nick hadn’t known he was capable of loving somebody as much as he loved her. In the vortex of lies where his career played out, she was his one true thing. At the