Blacklist Aftermath (Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell, Book 7)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
October 1, 2013 Retail ePub
A continuing video-game tie-in novel series "created by" Tom Clancy, but written by various authors under the pseudonym David Michaels until this most recent one written by Peter Telep.
Sam Fisher must save one man's life to save his own country.
Eccentric billionaire Igor Kasperov owns one of the most influential and successful anti-virus software companies in the world. But when the Kremlin orders him to unleash a catastrophic computer virus against the United States, he is forced to flee for his life.
Sam Fisher and Fourth Echelon are charged with finding Kasperov and presenting the American president's offer for political asylum. Because there are others looking for Kasperov. And the only thing they will offer him is a swift death...
AN ALL-NEW ADVENTURE FEATURING SAM FISHER
Based on Ubisoft's bestselling game,
Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell®
surveillance?” “We’ve picked up two watching the apartment,” said Grim. “And Kasperov’s place in Moscow?” “They tore it apart, Sam,” said Charlie. “I mean literally moved everything out of it, furniture, everything. It’s all gone to a warehouse in Moscow, along with everything from his headquarters. Security there is ridiculously tight.” Grim shrugged. “I think we’d have better luck getting to Kestrel, see if he can tap us into Voron’s search—” “But then we’re always a step
to speak. “I . . . I told you. I don’t know where he is. He didn’t tell me where he was going.” “And you have no ideas? No guesses?” “He could be anywhere. Maybe one of the summer homes! Maybe he’s gone to Florida with his girlfriend. I don’t know!” “I understand.” The Snow Maiden ran the knife along Joline’s cheek, drawing a fine line of blood. Joline began wrenching violently against the agents holding her while Nadia wailed for the Snow Maiden to stop. At the same time, one
and Grim met him outside the infirmary, where he handed Fisher a small plastic bag containing the translucent capsule/tracker, one Fisher had seen before used by the SVR and FSB. “Simple operation. Four stitches. She’s sleeping now.” “Excellent,” Fisher said. “Well, other than some blunt trauma to her face, she seems to be doing okay,” said the doctor. “She’ll need to have the new stitches removed in a week or so. If there’s nothing else, I guess I’m ready for my blindfold.” “We
reloading the weapon. As guard number one wailed in agony, dropped to his knees, then tried to reach up and pry free the shocker from his body, Fisher cut loose the second bolt, dodging from the incoming fire as the sticky shocker thumped on number two’s chest, a bit lower but still a good hit almost center mass. Their cursing in Spanish and wailing sounded strangely medieval and cued Briggs to take off, with Fisher tight on his heels, repressing a grin over his counterattack. Even
shipping yard. Hell, they could already have the shipping yard rigged to blow.” Grim raised her voice, her tone twice as emphatic. “Mr. Kasperov? Do you know something? If you do, you have to tell us. You realize what’s at stake here, don’t you?” Fisher stepped over to the man. “We rescued your daughter. You do this for her. You talk.” Kasperov nodded. “As I said, their plan has three stages. I was to be first. They never told me about other stages. One of my best employees spied on