{"product_id":"tom-clancys-splinter-cell-operation-barracuda-isbn-9780425204221","title":"Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell: Operation Barracuda","description":"\u003cb\u003eDON’T MISS THE UPCOMING NETFLIX ANIMATED SERIES \u003ci\u003eSPLINTER CELL: DEATHWATCH\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eFrom the bustling streets of Hong Kong to the gritty underworld of Los Angeles, National Security Agency operative Sam Fisher's survival skills and determination are put to the ultimate test in \u003ci\u003eOperation Barracuda\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSam Fisher is given unparalleled authority by the elite Third Echelon to protect America by any means necessary: he can spy, steal, destroy, and even assassinate. When tasked with investigating the destruction of a stealth plane, operative Fisher discovers a mysterious old spyglass near the crime scene. As he delves deeper into the investigation, Sam uncovers a web of betrayal, assassinations, and gang activity that spans continents.\u003cb\u003eTom Clancy \u003c\/b\u003ewas the #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of more than eighteen books. He died in October 2013.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eDavid Michaels\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of two novels in Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon series and several in Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell series.\u003cp\u003eTable of Contents\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTitle Page\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCopyright Page\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAcknowledgements\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 2\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 3\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 4\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 5\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 6\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 7\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 8\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 9\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 10\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 11\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 12\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 13\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 14\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 15\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 16\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 17\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 18\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 19\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 20\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 21\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 22\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 23\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 24\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 25\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 26\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 27\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 28\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 29\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 30\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 31\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 32\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 33\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 34\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 35\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 36\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 37\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 38\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 39\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 40\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE BESTSELLING NOVELS OF\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003e  TOM CLANCY\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE TEETH OF THE TIGER\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA new generation—Jack Ryan, Jr.—takes over in Tom Clancy’s\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eextraordinary, and extraordinarily prescient, novel.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“INCREDIBLY ADDICTIVE.” \u003ci\u003e—Daily Mail\u003c\/i\u003e (London)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eRED RABBIT\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eTom Clancy returns to Jack Ryan’s early days—\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ein an engrossing novel of global political drama . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A WILD, SATISFYING RIDE.” \u003ci\u003e—New York Daily News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE BEAR AND THE DRAGON\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA clash of world powers. President Jack Ryan’s trial by fire.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“HEART-STOPPING ACTION . . . CLANCY STILL REIGNS.” \u003ci\u003e—The Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eRAINBOW SIX\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eJohn Clark is used to doing the CIA’s dirty work.\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eNow he’s taking on the world . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“ACTION-PACKED.” \u003ci\u003e—The New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eEXECUTIVE ORDERS\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eA devastating terrorist act leaves Jack Ryan\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eas President of the United States . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“UNDOUBTEDLY CLANCY’S BEST YET.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eDEBT OF HONOR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eIt begins with the murder of an American woman\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ein the back streets of Tokyo. It ends in war . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A SHOCKER.” \u003ci\u003e—Entertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe smash bestseller that launched Clancy’s career—\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ethe incredible search for a Soviet defector\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eand the nuclear submarine he commands . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“BREATHLESSLY EXCITING.” \u003ci\u003e—The Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eRED STORM RISING\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe ultimate scenario for World War III—\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ethe final battle for global control . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“THE ULTIMATE WAR GAME . . . BRILLIANT.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Newsweek\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003ePATRIOT GAMES\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eCIA analyst Jack Ryan stops an assassination—\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eand incurs the wrath of Irish terrorists . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A HIGH PITCH OF EXCITEMENT.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe superpowers race for the ultimate Star Wars\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003emissile defense system . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“\u003ci\u003eCARDINAL\u003c\/i\u003e EXCITES, ILLUMINATES . . . A REAL PAGE-TURNER.” \u003ci\u003e—Los Angeles Daily News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eCLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe killing of three U.S. officials in Colombia ignites the\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAmerican government’s explosive, and top secret, response . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A CRACKLING GOOD YARN.” \u003ci\u003e—The Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE SUM OF ALL FEARS\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe disappearance of an Israeli nuclear weapon threatens the\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ebalance of power in the Middle East—and around the world . . .\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“CLANCY AT HIS BEST . . . NOT TO BE MISSED.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The Dallas Morning News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eWITHOUT REMORSE\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eHis code name is Mr. Clark. And his work for the CIA\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eis brilliant, cold-blooded, and efficient . . . but who is he really?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“HIGHLY ENTERTAINING.” \u003ci\u003e—The Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eNovels by Tom Clancy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTHE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER \u003cbr\u003eRED STORM RISING \u003cbr\u003ePATRIOT GAMES \u003cbr\u003eTHE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN \u003cbr\u003eCLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER \u003cbr\u003eTHE SUM OF ALL FEARS \u003cbr\u003eWITHOUT REMORSE \u003cbr\u003eDEBT OF HONOR \u003cbr\u003eEXECUTIVE ORDERS \u003cbr\u003eRAINBOW SIX \u003cbr\u003eTHE BEAR AND THE DRAGON \u003cbr\u003eRED RABBIT \u003cbr\u003eTHE TEETH OF THE TIGER\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eNonfiction\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eSUBMARINE: A GUIDED TOUR INSIDE A NUCLEAR WARSHIP \u003cbr\u003eARMORED CAV: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN ARMORED CAVALRY REGIMENT \u003cbr\u003eFIGHTER WING: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIR FORCE COMBAT WING \u003cbr\u003eMARINE: A GUIDED TOUR OF A MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT \u003cbr\u003eAIRBORNE: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRBORNE TASK FORCE \u003cbr\u003eCARRIER: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER \u003cbr\u003eSPECIAL FORCES: A GUIDED TOUR OF U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eINTO THE STORM: A STUDY IN COMMAND  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e(written with General Fred Franks, Jr., Ret.)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEVERY MAN A TIGER  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e(written with General Charles Horner, Ret.)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSHADOW WARRIORS: INSIDE THE SPECIAL FORCES  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e(written with General Carl Stiner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eCreated by Tom Clancy\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eSPLINTER CELL \u003cbr\u003eSPLINTER CELL: OPERATION BARRACUDA\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eCreated by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MIRROR IMAGE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: GAMES OF STATE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: ACTS OF WAR \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: BALANCE OF POWER \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: STATE OF SIEGE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: DIVIDE AND CONQUER \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: LINE OF CONTROL \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MISSION OF HONOR \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: SEA OF FIRE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: CALL TO TREASON \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: WAR OF EAGLES\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: HIDDEN AGENDAS \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: NIGHT MOVES \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: BREAKING POINT \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: POINT OF IMPACT \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CYBERNATION \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: STATE OF WAR \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CHANGING OF THE GUARD \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: SPRINGBOARD\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eCreated by Tom Clancy and Martin Greenberg\u003c\/i\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: POLITIKA \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: RUTHLESS.COM \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: SHADOW WATCH \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: BIO-STRIKE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: COLD WAR \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: CUTTING EDGE \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: ZERO HOUR \u003cbr\u003eTOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: WILD CARD\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP\u003c\/b\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePublished by the Penguin Group\u003c\/b\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePenguin Group (USA) Inc.\u003c\/b\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA\u003c\/b\u003e  \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, \u003cbr\u003eSouth Africa\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePenguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL®: OPERATION BARRACUDA\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA Berkley Book \/ published by arrangement with Rubicon, Inc.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePRINTING HISTORY \u003cbr\u003eBerkley edition \/ November 2005\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003eCopyright © 2005 by Rubicon, Inc.\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAll rights reserved. \u003cbr\u003eNo part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without \u003cbr\u003epermission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the \u003cbr\u003eauthor’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. \u003cbr\u003eFor information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, \u003cbr\u003ea division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., \u003cbr\u003e375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeISBN : 978-1-101-00373-2\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBERKLEY®  \u003cbr\u003eBerkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, \u003cbr\u003ea division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., \u003cbr\u003e375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. \u003cbr\u003eBERKLEY is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. \u003cbr\u003eThe “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eACKNOWLEDGMENTS\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe author and publisher wish to acknowledge the work of Raymond Benson, whose invaluable contribution to this novel is immeasurable. Many thanks go to Ubisoft Entertainment personnel Mathieu Ferland, Alexis Nolent, and Olivier Henriot for their cooperation and support, and to Vanessa Lorden for her help. Finally, a big thank-you each goes to James McMahon and Dr. Grace Stewart for their expertise.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eTHE\u003c\/b\u003e OPSAT’s mechanical alarm wakes me at eleven o’clock sharp. Since I possess the ability to sleep soundly at the drop of a hat, anywhere, at any time, the OPSAT’s built-in prodder that nudges the pulse in my wrist comes in very handy. It’s silent and it doesn’t jolt me awake the way alarm clocks sometimes do.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hear the wind blowing outside the small tent. The weather forecast had warned of a winter storm before midnight and it appears to be just beginning. Terrific. The sub-zero weather outside my bivouac would have in normal circumstances turned me into a Popsicle hours ago had it not been for Third Echelon’s technological breakthrough in designing the skintight, superhero-like uniform that separates my very human body from the harsh elements. Not only does it protect me from extreme heat or cold but the threads of Kevlar woven into the fabric somewhat serve as bulletproof material. At long range, the stuff works pretty  well. I don’t want to have the pleasure of testing its strength at short range, thank you very much.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI crawl out of the tent, stand, and take a moment to survey the dark forest around me. Aside from the howling wind, I can’t hear a thing. Lambert had warned me that I might encounter wolves this far into the woods but I must have lucked out. If I were a wolf, I’d stay in my den and keep the hell out of this kind of weather. There sure won’t be any meals wandering about in minus ten degrees Fahrenheit. None except a two-legged mammal that happens to be heavily armed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI quickly roll up the tent. The unique camouflage makes it appear to be a snow-covered rock when it’s erected on the ground. One would have to examine it at close range to recognize it for what it really is. Again, a well-designed piece of equipment, courtesy of the National Security Agency. It’s ironic that only a handful of the personnel within the NSA know of the classified department called Third Echelon. I’m such an elite employee of the United States government that you could count on two hands the number of people who can define “Splinter Cell.” And to tell the truth, I couldn’t name all those people. Aside from my immediate supervisor, Colonel Irving Lambert, and the minuscule team working in the unremarkable, unmarked building that stands separate from the main NSA headquarters in Washington, D.C., I have no clue as to what senators or Cabinet members have heard of Third Echelon. I’m pretty sure the president knows about us, but even \u003ci\u003ehe\u003c\/i\u003e  would Protocol Six me if I were caught. That means I’d be disavowed—they would wash their hands of me and pretend I never existed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI pack the tent and lower my goggles. The night vision mode works remarkably well in a Ukrainian snowstorm. I may feel as if I’m in a scene from \u003ci\u003eDoctor Zhivago\u003c\/i\u003e but at least I’m not going to bump into any trees as I move forward.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eObukhiv is five miles away to the south. I’m somewhere between that small village and Kyiv to the north, which is where I began my mission. We spell it “Kyiv” now instead of “Kiev” because it’s the English translation of the proper Ukrainian name for the city. Same goes for “Obukhiv,” which used to be “Obukhov.” The people made a concerted attempt to change all city names from Russian to Ukrainian since the nation became independent in 1991. I’m pretty sure the Russians will keep spelling them the old way.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMoving through a free Ukraine is no problem these days so I had little trouble picking up my equipment from the American Embassy in Kyiv and obtaining an SUV to drive to Obukhiv. I laughed when I saw the thing—a 1996 Ford Explorer XL with 120,000 miles on it. But it runs okay. From the village I hiked into the woods earlier today and set up camp here in the cold forest. Third Echelon intelligence confirmed that the Shop’s third hangar for their stealth plane—which was destroyed a few months ago in Turkey—is located here in a clearing beyond the woods and is still in use. Satellite photos revealed that vehicles occasionally appear and men continue to go in and out of the structure. I already got rid of one of the three hangars, located in Azerbaijan near Baku. A special ops military force blew up the one that sat in Volovo, a tiny hamlet south of Moscow. Now I have the job of checking out the third one here to see what they’re up to. The Shop, a notorious arms-dealing network of Russian criminals, was left in disarray after the business in Cyprus last year. We seriously damaged their organization but the leaders are still at large. Much of our intelligence indicates the Shop picked up and moved headquarters out of Russia and went to the Far East, possibly the Philippines or Hong Kong. That remains to be seen. One of Third Echelon’s top priorities over the last several months has been to find the four so-called directors of the Shop and bring them to justice. Or kill them, whichever comes first.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA Georgian named Andrei Zdrok is the main man. He’s number one on the “to do” list. The other directors consist of a Russian army general named Prokofiev—no relation to the composer, I don’t think; a former GDR prosecutor named Oskar Herzog; and another Russian—former KGB—by the name of Anton Antipov. If I can find any information pertaining to these guys’ whereabouts, I’ll have accomplished the mission and can go home.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I see you’re on the move, Sam.” It’s Colonel Lambert, speaking to me through the implants in my ears. They allow me to talk with the team back in Washington when the reception is good. I answer him by pushing on the one in my throat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m approaching the compound now. What’s the satellite show?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“There’s no activity. You’re clear to infiltrate.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI move quietly through the woods, my boots inadvertently making \u003ci\u003esquish\u003c\/i\u003e sounds in the snow and ice. Can’t be helped. I seriously doubt there are any guards this deep in the forest. I’ll have to be more careful when I approach the hangar, though. And it appears to be just up ahead, where the trees begin to thin out.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCrouching, I scan the field in front of me. A building that once served as an airplane hangar sits at the end of a runway. Whoever piloted the stealth plane had to be pretty adept—there isn’t much breathing space at the end before the trees become thick again. A smaller building adjoins the hangar—most likely offices and bunks for the guys working there. An electrified fence and gate surrounds the perimeter and an unpaved road—now covered by snow—runs through the forest from the facility to the highway leading out of Obukhiv. The No Trespassing and Keep Out signs have apparently done a good job keeping out the curious.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThree Taiga snowmobiles sit parked outside the compound. I see a lone guard in front of the door, smoking a  cigarette. Damn. If I’m going to deactivate the fence, someone inside is going to know about it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWait. Someone’s coming down the road. I see approaching headlights through the trees and hear the sound of vehicles.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’ve got company, Sam,” Lambert says. “Looks like a motorcycle, or maybe a snowmobile, and a car. Came out of nowhere.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yeah, I see ’em.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI quickly move through the brush to the edge of the gate and lie flat in the snow. Most of the time my uniform is black but since it’s custom-made for a Russian or Ukrainian winter, this model is completely white and thus blends in well with the natural surroundings. In a moment I’ll unzip it, peel it off, and reveal the darker uniform for when I need to lose myself in the shadows.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe hum of the electrified fence suddenly ceases. They’ve turned it off from the inside and the gate begins to open automatically.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnother Taiga snowmobile, driven by a lone rider, sails past me and goes through the open gate. A few seconds later, a black Mercedes follows. I make sure no other vehicles are lagging behind and then I roll my body through the gate as it starts to close. I lie still and peer around to make sure I wasn’t seen. So far, so good. Now’s the time to play chameleon and dispose of my white outer-suit.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAfter stuffing the garment into my backpack, I get up and creep closer, staying to the shadows. Positioning myself behind a boarded-up water well, I watch the newcomers as they stop their vehicles in front of the small building. The guard I saw earlier goes over to the hangar and unlocks the door. He swings it open and the guy on the snowmobile guides his ride inside. After a moment, he walks out and the first guard closes the hangar door—but doesn’t lock it. The Mercedes’ driver keeps the motor running as  four men get out of the car. One of them appears to be a Russian army general. I change the lenses in my trident goggles, focus on the men, and positively identify the officer as General Stefan Prokofiev. One of the other guys looks like Oskar Herzog, but if it’s him he’s grown a silly beard. The third guy I don’t recognize. He’s smaller than the others and has long, flowing black hair. Looks kind of like Rasputin. The fourth man is another soldier, probably just a bodyguard for the general. I quickly snap some photos with my OPSAT and beam them to Washington via satellite uplink with encrypted burst transmission.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe door to the main building opens and I see two men standing just beyond the threshold. They wave to the four-some as the men walk inside. Hands are shaken and then the door slams shut.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe driver gets out of the car and greets the snowmobile rider. They speak in Russian, probably talking about the weather. The guard offers the rider a cigarette and they walk around the building. As soon as they’re out of sight, I run toward the hangar—roughly twenty meters—and peek inside the door. Where an airplane once rested, the place is now full of crates, snowmobiles, and a couple of cars. Nothing else of interest. I then reach into the backpack and grab one of the nifty homing beacons that Third Echelon created for me. It looks like a hockey puck, only smaller. It’s magnetized and is activated by a twist of the top. I quickly move back outside to the Mercedes, crouch behind it, and place the device on the underside. There is a soft clink as the magnet meets metal. I push a button on my OPSAT to make sure it’s receiving the signal.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOkay, let’s get inside the building now. I try the knob but it’s locked. So I knock and whistle loudly. My Russian isn’t great but it’ll do for short innocuous phrases in case I need to converse with someone.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hear footsteps and the sound of the guard unlocking  the door. It swings open and I reach for him, pull him outside, and give him a head bonk he won’t forget. The sharp edge of my goggles slices his nose a bit but he’ll live. I drag his unconscious form around to the side of the hangar and hide him behind a generator attached to the building. I then hurry back to the front door, turn off the night vision, and step inside.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe corridor is empty but I can hear angry voices in a room down the hallway. There’s a washroom next to it, so I go in there and shut the door. I open a pouch on my leg and remove a microphone with a suction cup attached to it. I lick the cup and stick it on the wall, then adjust my OPSAT to pick up the signal. Through my headset I can now hear what they’re saying. The Russian is difficult to pick up but I can understand some of it. For good measure I start recording it just as Carly St. John, Third Echelon’s acting technical director, speaks through the implants.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’ll try to give you a rough translation as we go, Sam,” she says, “then later we can do the whole thing.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEither the general or Herzog is doing most of the talking. He’s giving the two men from the building a royal chewing out.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It’s something about ‘failure to do this and failure to do that,’ ” Carly says. “And ‘a security breach.’ They’re ‘closing down the facility.’ ”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOne of the men protests and sounds very frightened. Apparently he’s about to lose more than just his job.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eBLAM! BLAM!\u003c\/i\u003e The two gunshots startle me. They’re followed by the sound of two bodies hitting the floor. I hear the general or Herzog mutter something and then the four newcomers leave the room. They march down the hall, past the washroom, and exit the building. The place is dead silent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI open the washroom door and look into the hallway. Empty. I quickly move to the killing room and sure  enough, the two men who had greeted the general and his entourage are lying in pools of blood. I snap some photos and then move toward the front door. I gently crack it open and peer outside. The general is barking orders into a radio as the four men get inside the Mercedes. The driver has returned with his snowmobile rider pal.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You’ve got more company, Sam,” Lambert says. “Three vehicles approaching. Better get out of there now.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe’s right—I see more headlights coming through the gate at the other side of the compound. Military vehicles. Two trucks and a tank! I feel my heartbeat increase as the trucks pull in front of the building as the Mercedes takes off. At least eight armed soldiers—Russian, not Ukrainian—jump out of the vehicles and rush toward the front door—exactly where I’m standing.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWell, hell. I turn and run to the back of the building, past the killing room and into a space where several cots are set up—obviously the living quarters for the men who no longer work here. There’s a grille covering a ventilation shaft high on the wall. As I hear the soldiers enter the building and stomp along the corridor, I climb on one of the cots, pull off the grille, and climb inside. But I’m too late. One of the soldiers enters the room and sees my feet disappear into the shaft. He shouts loudly for others to join him. A deafening gunshot blasts part of the wall away behind me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI snake along the shaft as fast as I can. Luckily I come to a junction just as the soldier points his pistol inside the shaft to fire at me. The shaft turns upward here so I leap above the gunfire and begin the climb to the roof. The soldier doesn’t follow me. I’m sure he figures they can catch me when I emerge at the top.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe grille on the roof doesn’t come off easily. I’m forced to draw my Five-seveN and shoot the corners of the damned thing. I holster my gun and then give the grille a  good pounding with my gloved fist and it finally loosens. I pull myself up and out onto the snow-caked roof. The gunfire commences immediately, the rounds zipping inches over my head. The angle isn’t great for the soldiers so I’m at an advantage as long as I lie low. I reach into another trouser pocket and retrieve an emergency flare. It’s not much but hopefully it will be bright enough to blind the soldiers temporarily. I aim it to the sky and set it off. The flare bursts over the compound, violently brightening the darkness. The gunfire ceases momentarily. I rise and scramble across the roof to the other side, near the hangar. It’s not a big jump—I leap off the roof and land in a snow-bank. I drop, roll, and come up unharmed. But right in front of me is the snowmobile rider. He’s halfway in the process of drawing a Makarov when I deliver a Krav Maga ax kick to his chest. This propels him backward and he drops the pistol. I move forward and give him another kick in the groin, which makes him completely docile. I kneel beside him, search his pockets, and find the keys to the snowmobile.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Thanks,” I say in Russian. “I’ll return it. Someday.”\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"G.P. 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