Gideon's Sword by Douglas Preston Read Free Book Online Page A

this scumbag over me?”
    “General, I just want to know what’s going on. I’ve covered your back for years. I’ve done your work, clean and dirty, and I’ll continue to do it. But a funny thing happened on the side of that mountain—I began to believe this guy.”
    “What the hell are you trying to tell me?”
    “I’m beginning to have doubts, and the minute that happens, I’m no longer an effective soldier. You want me to get rid of this man? No problem. I’ll follow your orders. But I need to know what’s going on before I put a bullet into his head.”
    Tucker stared at him for a long time, then broke eye contact and passed a hand over his bristly scalp. He stepped over to a well-polished cabinet, slid open a drawer, pulled out a glass and a bottle of Paddy, slammed them on the mahogany, and poured himself a few fingers. He swallowed it in one gulp. Then he glanced back at Dajkovic.
    “Anyone see you come in?”
    “No, sir.”
    Tucker looked from Dajkovic to Gideon and back again. “What did he tell you, exactly?”
    “That his father wasn’t a traitor. And that he isn’t a terrorist, or in league with them.”
    Tucker carefully set down his glass. “All right. Truth is, I did tell you a bit of a story. His father didn’t pass secrets to the Soviets.”
    “What did he do?”
    “You got to remember, Dajkovic, we were in a war, a Cold War. In war, ugly things happen. You get collateral damage. We had a problem: an error was made. We rolled out a flawed code and some operatives died as a result. If that had come out, it would have taken down the entire cryptology section at a time when we desperately needed a new set of codes. His father had to be sacrificed for the greater good. You remember what it was like: them or us.”
    Dajkovic nodded. “Yes, sir. I remember.”
    “So now this fellow here, Gideon, more than twenty years later, is threatening me. Blackmailing me. Trying to tear down everything we’ve built, to destroy not only my reputation but the reputation of an entire group of dedicated, patriotic Americans. That’s why he has to be eliminated. You understand?”
    “I get it,” said Dajkovic, with a slow smile. “You don’t have to work around the facts to get me to do something for you. I’m with you one hundred percent, whatever you need.”
    “Are we clear what needs to be done?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Gideon said nothing and waited.
    Tucker glanced down at the bottle and glass. “Drink on it?”
    “No, thanks.”
    Tucker poured himself another, slugged it back. “Trust me that this is for the best. You’re earning my eternal gratitude. Take him out through the garage and make sure no one sees you.”
    Dajkovic nodded and gave Gideon a little push. “Let’s go.”
    Gideon turned and headed toward the door, Dajkovic following. They passed into the front hall and headed toward the kitchen, walked to the back where a door evidently led out into the garage.
    Gideon placed one handcuffed hand on the knob, realized it was locked. At the same moment he saw a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and instantly realized what was happening. Throwing himself sideways, he pitched himself into Dajkovic’s shoulder just as Tucker’s gun went off, but the round still caught Dajkovic in the back, slamming him forward into the closed door, the gun knocked from his hand. He sank to the floor with a grunt.
    As Gideon spun and dove, he caught a glimpse of Tucker in the kitchen doorway, isosceles stance, pistol in hand. The gun barked again, this time aimed at him, blasting a hole in the Mexican tiled floor mere inches from his face. Gideon leapt to his feet, making a feint toward the general as if to charge.
    The third shot came just as he made a ninety-degree lunge, throwing himself atop Dajkovic and grasping the .45 that lay against the far wall. He swung it around just as a fourth shot whistled past his ear. He raised the .45 but Tucker ducked back through the doorway.
    Wasting no