The Ragnarok Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF

it's way beyond FBI. In addition to the thirty or more US agencies involved broadly in criminal activities outside the country, there are the international ones.”
    â€œWell, we'd have our part to play.”
    â€œYes, but to break this case, it will require access to and investigation of places and people we can't go to.”
    â€œWell, we pound the beat we know, Larry.”
    Kanter nodded. “OK, John. That's all I'm saying. Stay in your boundaries on this one. If there is something to this, you'll dig it up.” Savas watched his boss stand up and leave the room. The message was clear.
    Savas felt exhausted. In the span of less than half a workday, he had run a roller coaster of emotions from his own elated certainty to the embarrassed rejection by his peers. He glanced at the presentation onhis computer, closed the laptop, and dropped it into his bag. As he left the table and walked to the door, Rebecca Cohen entered. Her eyes told him too clearly what was on her mind.
    â€œIs this a therapy session?” he asked sharply.
    â€œJohn, please. It's not like that.”
    â€œIsn't it? I saw all your faces. I could hear it perched on their tongues: Mad John. Useful in a pinch, but a little too wacko at times. Wasted on his own grief and anger. Unreliable when it comes to certain topics. Ready to see in others all the things churning inside himself.” He marveled that all this spilled out to her. “Doesn't that about capture it?”
    Cohen sighed and looked crestfallen. “Yes, John, it does. But I didn't come here for that.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œI came to tell you that whatever they think, whatever doubts anyone might have, we've all come too far with you not to back your play. Take it slow, John, but we're behind you.”
    Savas was strangely touched. “And you're speaking for the others?”
    â€œI'm sure I am, but it wasn't put to a vote or anything. I know I speak for me.”
    Her earnest eyes burned into him, and, not for the first time, he felt them pierce through so many layers of armor and anger. It was a place that couldn't be touched. Not now. Not anymore. Not a f ter Thanos. He was shaken by it, by the goodness of that touch. It made him recoil all the more.
    Cohen sensed his withdrawal, and her face tightened slightly as she watched his eyes.
    â€œThanks, Rebecca. It's good to know.” He turned quickly away from her and left the room.

Across the world in the mountains of Afghanistan, darkness had fallen, and the one called Kamir felt a chill descend. His group of mujahideen sat quietly around a small fire, several smoking, weapons at their sides. He was exhausted from a long day of drills, scrambling to keep ahead of American squads tracking them through the rough terrain. Their leader had posted guards at two positions around their camp, and three others at high and low points more distant. He grunted. They would see no Americans tonight.
    His mouth formed a sneer. His group lacked any high-tech equipment—motion detectors, night vision, satellite surveillance—expensive toys used lethally by their spoiled and arrogant American hunters. Instead, they used an older set of tools: their eyes, ears, nose, and skin. Truer tools given from God, each a more finely tuned instrument than anything assembled to take their place. They learned the land; memorized its pulse, the night sounds, the scents that belonged, and those that did not. His troop remained several steps ahead of their pursuers, mocking the grand collection of technology arrayed against them.
    Tonight, his senses were charged. No, they would not see the American army tonight. The last few days, a nervous tension had grown within the group. Grown within him. Normal banter had been replaced with sharp whispers, and movements were made with unusual caution. No one spoke of it. There were no reasons, no evidence of danger. Yet all felt it, a sense of encroaching violence. Kamir felt