The Secret Soldier (A John Wells Novel)
Alex Berenson
Language: English
Pages: 528
ISBN: 0515150347
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In Saudi Arabia, a series of terrorist attacks has put the Kingdom on edge. King Abdullah is losing his hold, and his own secret police cannot be trusted. With nowhere to turn, the king asks for ex-CIA agent John Wells's help.
Reluctantly, and with the secret blessing of his former CIA boss, Wells begins to unravel the conspiracy, and realizes that there is more than one country at stake-because the plotters want more than the fall of a monarch. They want to start the final battle between America and Islam-with only themselves as the victors...
his forearm. Kurland didn’t resist. He’d wondered sometimes when he saw the brief announcements that a death-row prisoner had been executed, why didn’t the guy resist? Why didn’t he fight instead of walking to his fate like a sheep? But now he knew. His own dignity was all he had left. And his voice. “No religion justifies this. No law. You know that, right? You’re just a couple of psychopaths with a saw. And whatever your plan is, whatever you’re hoping to accomplish, it won’t work; it’s going
Sure enough, a stretch Mercedes Maybach pulled up almost before he finished the thought. Black? Check. Tinted windows? Check. Run-flat tires and armored doors? Check and double-check. Wells raised a thumb, leaned toward the window. “Anywhere east, I’ll take it. I can chip in for gas. Cool?” The door swung open. THE MAN IN THE backseat had a heavy square face and wore a white ghutra low on his forehead. A neatly trimmed goatee covered his jutting chin like black-dyed moss. From a distance, he
the time Hezbollah found out he had lied, it wouldn’t matter. “We have the same enemy there.” “Yes. Still, what you want, it’s very expensive.” “Tell me.” “Two hundred thousand dollars.” Bakr had expected a much higher price. “That’s fine.” “Every month.” These Shia thieves, Bakr thought. Two hundred thousand dollars a month for a broken-down farmhouse and land too rocky even to grow hashish? But he didn’t have a choice. He planned to house as many as forty men, and he wanted room for
dealt us a great blow.” “America is prepared to provide whatever assistance you need,” Kurland said in English, as Rana translated. “And we thank you. But our security forces are capable of handling the situation. We have a photo of the assassin, as you know. He was traveling under a Jordanian passport. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his real name. But the Jordanian GID”—General Intelligence Directorate—“is working with us to trace him.” “Is your assumption that he was Jordanian? Or Saudi?” “We
Harder than he remembered. Or he was getting old. He tensed his chest, felt his triceps and biceps quiver, held himself steady. Brett Gaffan stepped into the room, flipped on the light. “Trying to impress me, John?” Wells ignored Gaffan, pushed, rose. Stopped. Found himself stuck. Sweat stung his eyes. He slipped sideways— And with a final convulsive effort forced himself up. Once he passed halfway, he felt the power coming from his biceps rather than his triceps and knew he’d be all right. He