Chain Reaction. Don Pendleton

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       CHAPTER TWO

      Washington, D.C.

      Special Agent in Charge Drake Duncan stood at the window of his office in the FBI’s J. Edgar Hoover Building. A gray drizzle of rain drifted past the glass. Dark clouds were coming in over the city. The weather matched Duncan’s mood.

      He was in charge of the task force investigating the Hegre organization. It was still causing the FBI man sleepless nights. Since becoming involved in the virus investigation a while back, when he had first realized the reclusive nature of Hegre, Duncan had accepted that even the combined resources of the agency were having problems. Now, months following the original investigation, the FBI was seeing only scraps of information. Leads had taken them in a hopeful direction, only to fade away to nothing. He was beginning to understand just how complex the criminal group was. From what had come to light during the virus affair—the involvement of an FBI agent who had been bought off and the existence of a member of the CDC in Atlanta who had handed Hegre samples of the smallpox—Duncan had accepted he was combating a criminal conspiracy with a far-reaching network of contacts. Hegre bought and paid for the best help it could find. And it was obvious the organization was not held back by moral concerns. Hegre was in the business of making money. It didn’t make judgments on the consequences of its operations as long as it profited. It operated on a simple, cold blooded premise: if a venture made money Hegre was interested. Right now Duncan had a problem on his hands, which was the reason for the call he was making to the one man who could help him.

      Matt Cooper.

      Duncan was the first to accept that Cooper’s direct involvement in the Hegre-North Korea operation had resulted in the curtailing of the incident. Despite Cooper not being part of the FBI, or any agency Duncan knew about, the man obviously had top-ranking backup. And if it hadn’t been for the man’s selfless resistance, more people would have died and the lethal strain of adapted smallpox could have resulted in countless deaths.

      SAC Drake Duncan was a dedicated agent, who had the strength of the FBI to back him. Yet here he was calling on a man who worked by a set of rules far beyond the FBI’s agenda. He was doing it because an agent was dead, another missing and Duncan was placed in the position of not trusting the people around him. It was a sad, but undeniable fact.

      Hegre had breached the FBI previously. Duncan had the nagging feeling that might have happened again, because the dead agent—Ray Talbot—had been operating under deep cover, his actions sanctioned by Duncan himself, with very few people aware of the fact.

      The FBI worked on a mandate of loyalty, with each and every agent sworn to uphold the law and deliver unbiased and corruption-free service. On the other side of the coin was human frailty, the probability that certain individuals could fall into the dark side of life. It had happened over the years, luckily on a small scale, but no organization was immune.

      Duncan had built his team by handpicking each member. Yet even that did not preclude someone slipping inside who had a less-than-honest mandate. Ray Talbot had been working in the field under the charge of Duncan’s most trusted—and in this case there was no chance of any suspicion—team leader. Special Agent Sarah Mitchell, early thirties, was a young woman who had come up through the ranks as a Duncan protégée. Smart and capable, she had sailed through FBI training and once in the field had exhibited a natural resourcefulness in her work. Intuitive, she saw things that others might easily miss, and she picked up on the minutia of operating procedure with ease. She also had a willful nature that sometimes got the better of her. Not deliberately smart-mouthed, she could exchange banter with the best, and on more than one occasion her eagerness almost got the better of her.

      Duncan found her refreshing. He would have willingly put himself on the line for her, knowing that in any situation she would always have his back. In terms of the physicality of FBI work she was hard to beat. Her marksmanship, with a variety of weapons, was always at the top of the score card.

      He had put her in charge of the current phase of the Hegre investigation. She had taken a keen interest in the matter, to the point that Duncan had to remind her to treat it like any operation. He understood her frustration. Sarah Mitchell hated being beaten and no matter how sophisticated Hegre appeared to be, to Mitchell it was simply another criminal organization and as such she channeled her energy toward bringing it down. SAC Duncan had laid out her assignment, then given her free rein to run the operation on her own, with his overall supervision.

      The past week had brought nothing. Duncan sensed, from her emailed reports and his talks with her via phone, that Mitchell was becoming frustrated at the lack of progress. And as time went by Duncan himself started to experience concern. In part that was because of his suspicion there might be a Hegre mole within the unit. He was searching to uncover evidence that would expose the traitor, hating the thought that Mitchell and her team might be in harm’s way.

      He avoided voicing his concern. The problem with unearthing an insider was the undeniable fact that bringing his thoughts into the open might simply play into the guilty person’s hands. At worst he might find himself talking to the traitor without knowing. It was one of those situations where unburdening himself might come back to bite him. He needed to move slowly, keep his wits about him, and not show his hand.

      But now he needed a presence on the case, an independent presence not part of the FBI, but with a feel for Hegre and the ability to move in ways that weren’t possible for Duncan’s people. A man he could trust.

      Matt Cooper was free of any inside influence, a man who could move through the morass of regulations as he homed in on the perpetrators.

      Duncan’s personal cell phone connected and the voice he remembered from their last meeting came through.

      “SAC Duncan, Cooper. Hal Brognola told me you could be reached at this number. Are you free to talk?”

      “Yeah, he mentioned that you needed to reach me. You sound like a man with a problem, Duncan.”

      “Damn right. And it’s the same problem that brought us together last time.”

      “Hegre?”

      “Yes.”

      “They operating again?”

      “You know we’ve been working on cracking their cover since the smallpox affair. And we’ve barely scratched the surface. Then we got a break. Not a massive one, but enough for me to send in part of my task force to check it out. Up in the Northwest. A couple of my people vanished. Now one of them has turned up dead, tortured before he was killed.”

      “Sorry to hear that, Duncan.”

      “The СКАЧАТЬ