Endgame (Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #6)
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The National Security Agency's top-secret initiative to protect the United States from potential threats has been dubbed the Third Echelon. It deploys a lone field operative. He is sharp, nearly invisible, and deadly. And he has the right to spy, steal, destroy, and assassinate to protect American freedoms.
His name is Sam Fisher. He is a Splinter Cell®Third Echlon.
Operative Fisher knows that several disastrous missions have depleted the ranks of the Splinter Cells. What he doesn’t know is that a stunning piece of evidence has been uncovered that points to the mole who sold out his government…
—Newsweek PATRIOT GAMES CIA analyst Jack Ryan stops an assassination— and incurs the wrath of Irish terrorists . . . “A HIGH PITCH OF EXCITEMENT.” —The Wall Street Journal THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN The superpowers race for the ultimate Star Wars missile defense system . . . “CARDINAL EXCITES, ILLUMINATES . . . A REAL PAGE-TURNER.” —Los Angeles Daily News CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER The killing of three U.S. officials in Colombia ignites the American government’s explosive, and
“Well, tell him I want to see him in my office before the end of the day.” “I will.” Oh, this is going to get interesting, she thought. He started for the door, hesitated, turned back. “Ms. Grimsdóttir? We don’t have to like or trust each other to do the good work of our country.” “But it would make things easier.” “What position would you have me take at a time like this” “A supportive one, sir.” “You have my support.” She took a long breath. “But not your trust.” “When Fisher is taken
long days at the beach. She’d dulled his senses, softened him, left him vulnerable to much more than her perfume and charm. And now his old “friends” had exploited his lack of focus and current position. They didn’t want to face the rest of the team. They’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity to capture him alone. And now they had him. Or not. After living with them on his back for so long, Noboru had come to the realization that, if push came to shove, he wouldn’t be taken alive—and in
shoulder of the road. He waited for a break in traffic, then began to cross the street, aiming straight for the winery. Gillespie called over the subdermal to say she’d just intercepted a police call. There was a report of a maniac in a BMW smashing into cars in the marina parking lot south of the winery, and the guy was now heading south down Highway 42. “You think it’s him?” she asked. “I don’t know. Stand by.” Hansen frowned, continued on, and appearing from between two bushes ahead was .
hand rose to the man’s mouth at exactly the same time Noboru’s did for his guard. Holding her breath, she drove her blade down into the guard’s neck to make a perfect kill shot to the spinal cord. The slash to the throat or knife thrust to the heart that instantly kills someone is the stuff of Hollywood inaccuracy. Most knife fighters would tell you, if you don’t get a kill shot to the spinal cord, your victim is going to stay alive for a while, and things will get very, very sloppy. Slashing