Perfect Killer by Lewis Perdue Read Free Book Online Page A

briefly wealthy dot-com CEO bought the villa from one of the Carothers heirs before the first Internet meltdown. Defense Therapeutics had purchased it out of bankruptcy for a song equivalent to a coda and two arias. The corporation then signed the deed over to Braxton as a bonus. Framed copies of magazine articles about Castello Da Vinci lined many of the hallways. They appeared mostly in extravagantly snotty home and architectural magazines, and some dated back to the 1930s. One even detailed how Carothers had spent lavishly to prepare the site exactly as it had existed in Tuscany, duplicating many of the tunnels and underground safe-room chambers, leading to speculation that Carothers had once feared a workers' or domestic Communist uprising.
"Okay then, let's hit the showers. You know how I hate to be late." Braxton broke into a slow jog.
Gabriel smiled faintly. The General never arrived late.

CHAPTER 11
    Twenty minutes later, Gabriel carried his notepad and the folder of materials the General had left in his room and made his way to the only new structure in the compound, a marble-sided pool house outfitted as Braxton's private office and conference room. A tall, beefy man with a discreetly shouldered sidearm stood by the multipaned glass doors of the pool house, saluted Gabriel, then opened the door for him. Braxton tried to hire the best of former military, including those from the Special Forces. Gabriel learned the General had even hired several veterans of Task Force 86M, Gabriel's old command. The most elite of the elite, 86M was a small, tight group of specialists.
    Gabriel returned the salute. "Good morning."
"Morning, sir."
Inside, the door to the women's room opened as Gabriel stepped inside. He
    recognized Brigadier General Laura LaHaye as she emerged.
"Hey, Dan," she said as she offered her hand. She was a tall lean woman in her late
forties with a long, pointed jaw, permanent scowl lines, heavy eyebrows, and three
Ph.D.'s. Gabriel knew her as the non-communicative head of an extensive, black-funded
operation about which he had learned very little even when he worked for the Joint Chiefs. LaHaye controlled several super-secret operations attached to the Army's
Research, Development, and Engineering Command, but like himself, even those at the
top of RDECOM did not know the full extent of her operations even as they were required
to provide support and logistics for her work. Gabriel's access at the Pentagon allowed him
to learn that she had significant operations at the Edgewood Chemical Biological Center at
Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland and, strangely at the DOD Combat Feeding
Program at the Natick, Massachusetts, Soldier Systems Center.
"Laura." He shook her warm, dust-dry hand. "Good to see you again." "It's been too long," she said, returning his handshake. "How's life up there on the
Hudson?"
He caught her insinuation immediately: "up there" meant ivory tower, out of touch
with reality, and too far away from the orbits of military power circling the Pentagon. "Surprisingly stimulating; he replied, then made an obvious show of checking his
watch. "Three minutes. We better get moving."
She nodded and the two of them followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to
the conference room. When they entered, Gabriel spotted Clark Braxton in conversation
with Defense Therapeutics CEO Walter Bentley and Wim Baaker, who was a top official
with the NATO Pharma Lab in the Netherlands. With them was a short, round man
Gabriel did not recognize. The men stood by an antique mahogany sideboard covered with
a lavishly arrayed continental breakfast heavy on yogurt, freshly sliced fruit, and cheese.
A single table had been set for them, its white tablecloth laid with gleaming silver
flatware. An overhead projector sat on a metal projection stand next to the table. "Dan, Laura!" Braxton called out. He gave his watch a faint glance before smiling.
"Come on in and get some coffee before we start."
LaHaye and Gabriel nodded