Free Covert One 2 - The Cassandra Compact by Robert Ludlum

wall, his arms crossed over his chest. The general caught the civilian's almost imperceptible nod and changed gears on the fly.
     
    "But neither can the Chinese hope to challenge us by playing the nuclear card. The nut is that they have an option: chemical-biological warfare. Slide a bug into one of our major population centers and into our command-and-control systems and presto!--- instant chaos. With complete plausible deniability on their part.
     
    “Therefore, it is imperative, gentlemen, that in your patrols, your oversight and intelligence sorties, you gather as much information as possible on China's bioweapons program. The battles of the next war will not be won or lost in the field or on the seas--- at least at first. They will be waged in the laboratories, where the enemy is measured in the trillions of battalions and can be mounted on the head of a pin. Only when we know where those battalions are created, nourished, sustained, and deployed from can you dispatch your resources to eliminate them.”
     
    Richardson paused. “I thank you for your time and attention, gentlemen.”
     
    The man in the back did not participate in the outpouring of applause. He did not stir when others in the audience surrounded the general, congratulating him, peppering him with questions. Anthony Price, deputy director of the National Security Agency, always reserved his comments for the private moment.
     
    As the officers dispersed, Richardson made his way to Price, who was thinking just how much the general resembled a preening rooster.
     
    “God, I love these guys! You can smell the stink of war on them.”
     
    “What I smell is that you almost blew it, Frank,” Price replied dryly. “If I hadn't caught your attention, you would have laid it out for them chapter and verse.”
     
    Richardson shot him a withering look. “Give me some credit, will you?” He pushed open the door. “Come on. We're running late.”
     
    They stepped out into the peerless blue day and walked swiftly along the gravel path that curved around the auditorium.
     
    “One day, Tony, the politicians will have to get it,” Richardson said grimly. “Running this country through public opinion polls is killing us. Mention that you want to stockpile anthrax or Ebola and watch your numbers sink. That's bullshit!”
     
    “Old news, Frank,” Price replied. “You might recall that our biggest problem is verification. Both we and the Russians agreed to have our biochem stockpiles monitored by international inspectors. Our labs, research and manufacturing facilities, the delivery systems--- everything was out in the open. So the politicians don't have to `get' anything. As far as they're concerned, bioweapons are a dead issue.”
     
    “Except when they come back to bite them on the ass,” Richardson said caustically. “Then they'll be screaming, `Where are ours?' ”
     
    “And you'll be able to tell them, won't you?” Price replied. “With a little help from the good doctor Bauer.”
     
    “Thank Christ for guys like him,” Richardson said through clenched teeth.
     
    Behind the auditorium was a small, circular landing pad. A commercial Jet Ranger helicopter with civilian markings sat waiting, the rotors spinning lazily. When the pilot saw his passengers, he began to warm up the turbos.
     
    Price was about to duck into the passenger compartment when Richardson stopped him.
     
    “This business in Venice,” he said over the growing whine of the engines. “Did we take it on the chin?”
     
    Price shook his head. “The hit came down as arranged. But there was an unexpected development. I'm expecting an update shortly.”
     
    Richardson grunted and followed Price into the cabin, strapping himself into his seat. As much as he respected Bauer and Price, they were still civilians. Only a soldier knew that there were always unexpected developments.
     
    __________
     
    The sight of the Big Island from two thousand feet never failed to stir