Covert One 5 - The Lazarus Vendetta by Robert Ludlum Read Free Book Online

Secret
Service to protect the president's life. For the agents involved, shepherding
the nation's chief executive safely through a massive facility crammed full of
toxic chemicals, pressurized high-temperature vats, and enough high-voltage
electricity to run a small city would be a waking nightmare.
    The word had already come down from the Institute's hierarchy to expect a
thorough inspection by the Secret Service. The betting had been that it would
happen tomorrow —closer to the president's arrival. The
    growing army of protesters outside must have
prodded the Secret Service into acting earlier.
    Smith stood up, took his jacket off the back of his chair, and followed
Farrows into the hallway. Dozens of scientists, technicians, and administrative
staff were streaming past, most of them carrying files or laptops to work on
until the Secret Service unit gave them permission to return to their labs and
offices.
    “We're asking Institute personnel to wait in the cafeteria,
Doctor,” Farrows said politely, indicating the direction. “Our sweep
really shouldn't take long. Not more than an hour, we hope.”
    It was nearly eleven in the morning. Somehow the prospect of sitting jammed
in the cafeteria with the others was not very appealing to Smith. He had
already been stuck inside for far too long, and one could only breathe recycled
air and drink stale coffee for so many hours without going crazy. He turned to
the agent. “If it's all the same to you, I want to grab some fresh air
instead.”
    The Secret Service agent put out a hand to stop him. “I'm sorry, sir,
but it's not the same to me. My orders are very clear. All Institute employees
report to the cafeteria.”
    Smith eyed him coolly. He did not mind letting the Secret Service men do
their job, but he would be damned if he would let them ride roughshod over him
for no good reason. He stood still, waiting until the other man let go of the
sleeve of his leather jacket. “Then your orders don't apply to me, Agent
Farrows,” he said calmly. “I'm not a Teller Institute employee.”
He flipped open his wallet to show his military ID.
    Farrows scanned it quickly. One eyebrow lifted. “You're an Army light
colonel? I thought you were one of these scientist-types.”
    “I'm both,” Smith told him. “I'm here on detached duty from
the Pentagon.” He nodded at the list the other man still held.
“Frankly, I'm surprised that little piece of information isn't on your
roster.”
    The Secret Service agent shrugged. "Looks like somebody in D.C.
    fouled up. It happens.“ He tapped the radio
receiver in his ear. ”Just let me clear this with my SAIC, okay?"
    Smith nodded. Each Secret Service detail was commanded by a SAIC—a
special-agent-in-charge. He waited patiently while Farrows explained the
situation to his superior.
    At last, the other man waved him through. “You're good to go, Colonel.
But don't stray too far. Those Lazarus Movement goofballs out there are in a
really bad mood right now.”
    Smith walked past him and came out into the Institute's large front lobby.
To his left, one of the building's three staircases led up to the second floor.
Doors on either side led to various administrative offices. Across the lobby, a
waist-high marble railing enclosed the visitors' registration and information
desks. To the right, two enormous wood-paneled doors stood open to the outside.
    From there a shallow set of wide sand-colored steps led down to a broad
driveway. Two big black SUVs with U.S. government license plates were
parked along the edge of the drive, right at the foot of those steps. A second
plainclothes Secret Service agent stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on both
the lobby and the vehicles parked outside. He wore sunglasses and cradled a
deadly-looking 9mm Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun. His head swiveled
briefly to watch Smith walk past him, but then he turned back to his sentry
duty.
    Outside, Smith stopped at the top of the steps and stood quietly