Hunt the Falcon by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo Read Free Book Online Page B

Americans.”
    â€œI’ve never heard of them before,” Crocker said, leaning forward in the brown leather chair.
    â€œWe’ll get back to them in a minute,” Anders answered. “First, I want to talk to you about the car bombings in Bangkok and Athens last week. You hear about them?”
    â€œI read something in the newspaper, that’s all,” Crocker answered, wondering why Anders had changed the subject.
    â€œTake a look at this,” Sutter said, handing Crocker a green folder. Inside were a series of photographs of the twisted, burned carcasses of eight cars and SUVs. His stomach started to turn. Beneath the photos was a list of the Americans killed and wounded. Glancing at it, he recognized one of the names—John Rinehart. He and Rinehart had met ten months ago in Kabul, while Rinehart was attending an economic conference there and Crocker was training the security detail assigned to protect President Karzai. Rinehart had struck him as a gentle, intelligent, academic type.
    â€œThese bomb attacks resulted in more than a dozen deaths of U.S., Israeli, and Saudi diplomats, and those unfortunate individuals who were riding in the vehicles with them,” Sutter said.
    â€œTragic,” Crocker muttered, remembering the night run he and Rinehart had completed together around Bagram Airfield.
    â€œAnd scores of locals who happened to be in the vicinity either killed or wounded,” Anders added.
    â€œWhere did you say these bombings took place?” Crocker asked, looking from Sutter to Anders.
    â€œBangkok, Athens, Rome, Mumbai, and Cairo.”
    Bangkok is where Rinehart had told him he was stationed.
    â€œWho was the perpetrator?” Crocker asked, thinking that most people didn’t appreciate the risk diplomats took when they served overseas.
    Anders said, “Unit 5000.”
    â€œOh,” Crocker groaned. “Again?”
    â€œUnit 5000 is a special, ultrasecret branch of the Iranian Quds Force, and the brainchild of your old nemesis Farhed Alizadeh,” Anders continued. “Code name the Falcon.”
    The mention of Alizadeh’s name caused Crocker’s whole body to heat up. Alizadeh was the evil fuck he’d first encountered trying to steal nuclear material from an Australian cargo ship off the coast of Somalia. Alizadeh later attempted another theft of nuclear material in Libya, which Crocker and his team thwarted, and hired a group of local militiamen to kidnap Crocker’s wife. Now he was supplying heavy arms to the Taliban and killing American diplomats all over the world.
    â€œThe Falcon,” Crocker repeated, picturing Alizadeh’s sinister, dark, deep-set eyes, short stature, and acne-scarred face covered with a short black beard. “Where’s that little bastard now?”
    â€œI wish I knew,” Anders answered, reaching into an aluminum briefcase.
    â€œSo do I. Tenfold.”
    â€œYou ever see one of these?” Anders asked. He handed Crocker a black metal object that looked like a miniature hockey puck. The underside of it was covered with tiny silver-colored balls.
    â€œNo. What is it?” Crocker asked, running his finger over the little spheres.
    â€œThose balls are magnetic,” Anders said. “And that device is empty, which is a real good thing, because the operative ones are packed with a plastic form of CL-20, a small detonator, and a digital timer. Very powerful and extremely deadly.”
    CL-20 was the highest-energy solid explosive produced in the United States, 20 percent more powerful than HMX and extremely expensive to make. It had been called the most significant energetic discovery since the hydrogen bomb. Crocker knew it was used in high-rate detonating cord and high-performance gun propellants. But this was the first time he’d heard of it packed into a stand-alone explosive device.
    Even more alarming to him was the news that it had fallen into the Falcon’s