The Target by David Baldacci Read Free Book Online

occupant of the Oval Office had the cojones to make that sort of call. But the president had surprised Tucker and done so. Now the die was cast. There was no going back.
    In a perfect world, the mission would succeed and Robie and Reel would be history.
    A perfect world. The only problem was, his world was about as imperfect as it could possibly be.
    He cradled his drink, took a sip, and sat back. Another long day of keeping everyone safe. It was a dirty, filthy business, what he did. And no one involved in it was anything other than filthy.
    Including me , thought Evan Tucker. Most of all, me.

Chapter
    8
    E ARL FONTAINE SAT BACK IN his bed and let out a contented sigh.
    The visit had been a successful one. The two men had been all that they had claimed to be when they had first contacted him. It was a little surprising to Earl that he was allowed visitors at this point, but perhaps the warden didn’t think he was dangerous anymore since he was old and dying in a crappy prison hospital ward.
    Well, the man could not have been more wrong. Maybe his stinger had been pulled, but Earl had other resources, starting with the two men in the black suits toting the Bibles. And they had others, lots of others, to work with them.
    The Bibles were a nice touch, he thought. Bibles put people at ease, when they should be on the highest alert. Good for Earl. Bad for the law. In fact, what was bad for the law was always great for Earl Fontaine.
    The men in black had done their part. They were all ready. Now it was time for Earl to do his part.
    He grabbed at his belly and hacked up what felt like part of his left lung. That was really the only one he had left. They’d cut most of the other one out years ago in an effort to stem the cancer. They’d only done it to try to get him healthy so they could kill him. But he’d beaten them on that. He wasn’t getting healthier. He was dying. Dying fast, but not too fast.
    Ironically, the only thing keeping him going was the idea that if he could accomplish this last thing in his life, he could die easy. It was all he thought about. He was obsessed with it. It was the only thing keeping his good lung moving, his diseased heart pumping, and the pain relatively at bay.
    He caught his breath, wiped the sweat from his face, and struggled to a sitting position. It was hot. It was always hot here. Apparently, Alabama didn’t enjoy a winter season. For over twenty years the sweat had spilled off him day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute—but he had endured, eventually making clever jokes about the heat that had passed from one cell to the next, making Earl a bit of a celebrity in here.
    He looked down at the tube. He got his basic nutrients through an IV right into his belly. Although he’d been a hearty eater all his life, food meant nothing to him now. And neither did the smokes, despite his giving the nurse a hard time about those.
    He gathered his energy and eyed the woman making her rounds through the patients here. She was young and attractive, and the first time Earl had seen her, he had had thoughts that he hadn’t had in a while. In his day, big, tall, handsome, what he could have done with a woman like that. To a woman like that. She would know who ruled the roost, that was for damn sure. She was a doctor, smart, educated, liberated no doubt. She probably had a bunch of ideas in that pretty head. Hell, she probably went and voted too, and not just the way her hubby told her to. He loathed women like that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to possess them.
    He stared over at Junior, who had perked up when he too had eyed the young doctor making her rounds. Earl grinned at this. He could see Junior taking in the shoulder-length hair that smelled so good, the slender hips, the nicely rounded bottom that pushed against the fabric of her skirt, the glimpse of a soft bosom resting just beneath the white blouse. The stethoscope around the long neck. Her ears were pretty too, Earl had