Craig Kreident #2 Fallout by Doug Beason Kevin J Anderson Read Free Book Online

You will ensure that our activities remain precisely on schedule.   We have only four more days to complete our assigned activities, and I have no wish to stay in this desert wasteland an hour more than necessary.   If the summit meeting does not take place as planned, it will prove quite an embarrassment to both of our governments.”
    “Ambassador Nevsky’s death was an accident, nothing more,” said Uncle Mike coolly.   “You must make that very clear to your embassy.”
    “I demand an autopsy of the body, and a review of your safety procedures,” said Ursov.   “We must have this all documented and submitted before I can transmit my final report to our president when he meets with your president.”
    Paige stepped up and tried to defuse the situation.   “Certainly, we’ll order the autopsy.”   She wasn’t sure why Ursov would insist — Nevsky had plainly been squashed like a bug, and there wasn’t any question as to the cause of death.   “But it might take a few days for a detailed analysis.”  
    Ursov snapped his head around.   “Very well, Miss Mitchell.   Let us call the surviving members of my team, so we may begin our tours for today.”
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 5
    Tuesday, October 21
    11:08 A.M.
     
    Hoover Dam
     
    Though Craig and his partners had prevented disaster at the Hoover Dam, he could not congratulate himself on wrapping up the case.   The Eagle’s Claw investigation remained wide open.
    He had found no leads that pointed to the ringleader responsible for planning the terrorist strike, or the probable murder of undercover agent Bill Maguire.   The body of the bomber had vanished into the churning Colorado River — and Craig had no further evidence, no place to turn, despite the support teams of additional agents from the Las Vegas Satellite Office.
    After Highway 93 had been reopened to traffic, the flood of cars came through.   Drivers honked or glared because of the inconvenience; rubber-neckers tried to determine the cause of the shutdown.   When the news helicopters and vans arrived, Craig remained down at the base of the dam, where there would be less chance he’d be pegged for an interview.
    Now, alone, he stared into the deep cold water of the tailrace, feeling his legs shaking in the backwash of adrenaline and suspense from his brush with death.   He tapped his foot, burning off nervous energy.   Garcia had told him the water was fifty feet deep with heavy currents, and cold, fifty degrees.
    The walkie talkie squawked at his waist, breaking his concentration.   Jackson’s voice came over the speaker.   “Agent Kreident, come in please.   Over.”
    Craig listened as Jackson spoke in his quiet, professional voice.   “The search helicopters have spotted the body.   It’s washed up against some rocks in a jog in the canyon a mile downriver.   We can get you there in a few minutes if you want to be present for the recovery.”
    Shading his eyes, Craig took one last look around the dam, the power-generating apparatus, the administration building at the base of the structure.   “Yeah, I don’t want to miss the excitement.”
     
    At the water’s edge Craig worked his way down the rocky ledges to the river.   Sand and rocks the size of marbles dribbled down the incline; the sky burned a bright blue.
    Two rescue workers went about the grim task of fishing the battered corpse out of the cold current.   Craig’s black wing-tip shoes had not been made for rugged climbing, but he managed.   The day had grown so warm that he even stopped to loosen his tie.
    The bomber’s body was bruised and broken, livid red welts on pale white skin, as if a gang of thugs had beaten him to death.   His dam coverall was ripped and stained, his face hideously bashed in.   Craig doubted the man carried any sort of identification — and if so, he didn’t trust it to be legitimate.
    Agent Jackson appeared grim, as usual, watching the proceedings from a low outcropping.