Red Rabbit (Tom Clancy)
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Long before he was President or head of the CIA, before he fought terrorist attacks on the Super Bowl or the White House, even before a submarine named Red October made its perilous way across the Atlantic, Jack Ryan was an historian, teacher, and recent ex-Marine temporarily living in England while researching a book. A series of deadly encounters with an IRA splinter group had brought him to the attention of the CIA's Deputy Director, Vice Admiral James Greer—as well as his counterpart with the British SIS, Sir Basil Charleston—and when Greer asked him if he wanted to come aboard as a freelance analyst, Jack was quick to accept. The opportunity was irresistible, and he was sure he could fit it in with the rest of his work.
And then Jack forgot all about the rest of his work, because one of his first assignments was to help debrief a high-level Soviet defector, and the defector told an amazing tale: Top Soviet officials, including Yuri Andropov, were planning to assassinate the Pope, John Paul II.
Could it be true? As the days and weeks go by, Ryan must battle, first to try to confirm the plot, and then to prevent it, but this is a brave new world, and nothing he has done up to now has prepared him for the lethal game of cat-and-mouse that is the Soviet Union versus the United States. In the end, it will be not just the Pope's life but the stability of the Western world that is at stake. . . and it may already be too late for a novice CIA analyst to do anything about it.
"Clancy creates not only compelling characters but frighteningly topical situations and heart-stopping action," wrote The Washington Post about The Bear and the Dragon. "Among the handful of superstars, Clancy still reigns, and he is not likely to be dethroned any time soon." These words were never truer than about the remarkable pages of his breathtaking new novel. This is Clancy at his best—and there is none better.
devoutly Marxist—oh, this Rabbit says that KGB may have compromised your communications. That is what Langley is excited about." "Damned straight, Basil. If that's a hole, we have to plug it up fast." "This guy's in their MERCURY? Jesus Christ," Ryan breathed. "You got that one right, sonny," Silvestri agreed. "But what the hell am I going into the field for?" Jack demanded next. "I'm not a field officer." "We need one of ours to keep an eye on things." "I quite understand, Randy,"
in the boat he'd stitched up. Strange , he reflected. If you kill a man right by your home, you should at least know his name. But, yeah, if he could do that, he could damned well do this. He checked his watch. It would be a while still, and he wasn't driving tonight, and another glass of wine seemed a good idea. But he'd stop it there. BACK AT THE ASTORIA, the Zaitzevs got their little Bunny to bed, and Oleg ordered some vodka to be brought up. It was the generic Russian vodka brand that the
favorite exercise tune many years before—and which she still remembered. "A friend of mine plays professionally," Jack said, with a smile. It was hard not to appreciate her joy of the moment. "Who? Where?" Oleg asked. "Sissy—actually, Cecilia Jackson. Her husband and I are friends. He's a fighter pilot for the U.S. Navy. She is number-two piano soloist at the Washington Symphony. My wife plays, too, but Sissy is really good." "You are good to us," Oleg Ivan'ch said. "We try to take decent
human nature, probably a good—even a brilliant—amateur psychologist." "You haven't compared him to someone from Tolstoy or Chekhov," Jack noted. Simon was a lit major, after all. Harding dismissed the thought. "Too easy to do so. No, people like him most often do not appear in literature, because novelists lack the requisite imagination. There was no warning of a Hitler in German literature, Jack. Stalin evidently thought himself another Ivan the Terrible, and Sergei Eisenstein played along
analysis. "Well, some things, you know, the Ambassador likes to get a heads-up. He told me to ask, off-the-record-like." "That's an ethical issue, Ed." "If I tell Ernie that, he won't be real happy." "Well, you work for him. I don't." "You are an American citizen, right?" "Don't wave the flag at me, okay?" Prince responded wearily. "Okay, if I find out they're about to launch nuclear weapons, I'll let you know. But it looks to me like we're more likely to do something that stupid than they