Extinction Crisis. Don Pendleton

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      O NE OF THE ADVANTAGES that Phoenix Force had over the Directorate of Security and their investigation was that they didn’t have to worry about coordinating multiple raids after assembling a half-dozen teams in and around Paris. The Directorate needed to pull off each raid at the same time, in case the conspirators were in communication with each other, and more than one enemy site was actually part of the guilty party. The agency also needed to assemble warrants, scope out approaches and gather much more intelligence before they could make the first move. That all also depended on putting aside the bureaucratic differences that put the brakes on their moves.

      McCarter looked at the latest data gathered from the French by the computer hackers at Stony Man Farm, and applied his years of counterterrorism investigation and operation to narrowing down Phoenix Force’s target as Manning drove them through the streets of Paris.

      “I think that we’re looking at the neo-Nazi cell just off of the Seine,” McCarter said.

      “What makes you think that?” Manning asked.

      “The warrants are moving especially slow on them,” McCarter said. “Considering that we’re dealing with expert computer hackers, as well as the robots, I’m betting that the conspirators are looking to keep their asses covered until their patsies can get out of the way.”

      “Or be gotten out of the way,” Hawkins mentioned. “The bad guys in Inshas and Washington were both sacrificial lambs, and they didn’t seem to care about the robots, either.”

      “So even if we hit the little Hitler lovers, they might already be corpses,” Manning grumbled.

      McCarter’s brow furrowed. “I like our chances.”

      “What?” Manning asked.

      “The conspiracy seems to be cleaning up its backtrail with almost paranoid efficiency,” McCarter replied. “But they left the lead to the neo-Nazis hanging out there.”

      Manning nodded. “I see.”

      “I don’t,” Hawkins replied.

      “The conspirators want to take the piss out of us. In two places, they’ve had Stony Man teams on their asses,” McCarter said. “They noticed Able shadowing their deliverymen in Washington, D.C. They caught Rafe and Cal in Egypt. They’re dangling bait for us here in Paris to see if they can catch a nibble.”

      Hawkins grimaced. “So they’re aware of Stony Man.”

      “They’re aware of a particularly efficient agency on their tails. They don’t know the details, but the specifics of who we are doesn’t matter to them,” McCarter told him. “What matters is that someone has managed to cut through the red tape and bureaucratic bullshit to know that there is a conspiracy out there messing with nuclear power plants across three continents.”

      “And we’re looking at a trap for us,” Hawkins sighed.

      “The neo-Nazis are in all likelihood dead,” McCarter said. “But there will be an elimination team on hand, waiting for us to make our move. Once we do, they drop the hammer.”

      “An ambush won’t work too well if we’re aware of it,” Manning said.

      “The enemy might be anticipating that, as well,” McCarter said. “Depending on who they hired to hit us, it could be a feint, or it could be a hard-kill force.”

      “A test for us,” Manning said. “Or a distraction.”

      Hawkins took a deep breath. “Either way, we’re going to have our work cut out for us, or is this mental chess game hinging on making us look less capable than we are?”

      “Screw that,” McCarter snapped. “If we’re going to encounter some drama, we’re going to bring our A game every time. Whoever they send after us, we treat them as professionals and we don’t let up on them. Taking it easy on any asshole we meet is a fast ticket to an unmarked grave.”

      Hawkins nodded. “For a moment, I was wondering if you were a Cockney brawler or Sherlock Holmes.”

      “There’s times for being smart, and there’s times for being the deadliest bastard on the sidewalk,” McCarter said. “The time for being smart is done now. Let’s be bloody and deadly.”