The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

yanking the remaining nation – based on the Russian Federation – into the 21st
century by its throat. If Narmonov fell . . . if he found himself unable to
continue, then who . . . ?
Why, me, of course.
Would the Americans support him?
How could they fail to support Agent SPINNAKER of their own Central Intelligence
Agency?
Kadishev had been working for the Americans since his recruitment by Mary
Patricia Foley some six years before. He didn't think of it as treason. He was
working for the betterment of his country, and saw himself as succeeding. He'd
fed the Americans information on the internal workings of the Soviet government,
some of it highly valuable, some material they could as easily have gotten from
their own reporters. He knew that they regarded him as their most valuable
source of political intelligence in the Soviet Union, especially now that he
controlled fully forty percent of the votes in the country's bumptious new
parliament, the Congress of People's Deputies. Thirty-nine percent, he told
himself. One must be honest. Perhaps another eight percent could be his if he
made the proper move. There were many shades of political loyalty among the
twenty-five hundred members. Genuine democrats, Russian nationalists of both
democratic and socialist stripe, radicals of both left and right. There was also
a cautious middle of politicians, some genuinely concerned about what course
their country might take, others merely seeking to conserve their personal
political status. How many could he appeal to? How many could he win over?
Not quite enough . . .
But there was one more card he could play, wasn't there?
Da. If he had the audacity to play it.
'Andrey Il'ych,' he said in a conciliatory voice, 'you ask me to depart from an
important principle so that I can help you reach a goal we share – but to do so
by a route that I distrust. This is a very difficult matter. I am not even sure
that I can deliver the support you require. My comrades might well turn their
backs on me.' It only agitated the man further.
'Rubbish! I know how well they trust you and your judgment.'
They are not the only ones who trust me . . . Kadishev told himself.
***
As with most investigations, this one was done mainly with paper. Ernest
Wellington was a young attorney, and an ambitious one. As a law-school graduate
and a member of the bar, he could have applied to the FBI and learned the
business of investigation properly, but he considered himself a lawyer rather
than a cop, besides which he enjoyed politics, and the FBI prided itself on
avoiding political wrangling wherever possible. Wellington had no such
inhibitions. He enjoyed politics, considered it the life's blood of government
service, and knew it to be the path to speedy advancement both within and
without the government. The contacts he was making now would make his value to
any of a hundred 'connected' law firms jump five-fold, plus making him a known
name within the Department of Justice. Soon he would be in the running for a
'special-assistant' job. After that – in five years or so – he'd have a crack at
a section chief's office . . . maybe even U.S. Attorney in a major city, or head