The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

varieties of cancer breaking out in one's body 'survival.' The last one,
fortunately, seemed to have the least. He was still cold, though his hands and
face were badly burned, but he hadn't vomited yet. He was also quite deaf.
It was a young man, Parsons saw. The clothing in the bag next to his bed
included a handgun and a badge – a cop. He also held something in his hand, and
when the boy looked up, he saw the FBI agent standing next to the NEST leader.
Officer Pete Dawkins was deep in shock, nearly insensate. His shaking came both
from being cold and wet, and from the aftermath of more terror than any man had
ever faced and survived. His mind had divided itself into three or four separate
areas, all of which were operating along different paths and at different
speeds, and none of them were particularly sane or coherent. What held part of
one such area together was training. While Parsons ran some sort of instrument
over the clothing he'd worn only a short time before, Dawkins' damaged eyes saw
standing next to him another man in a blue plastic windbreaker. On the sleeves
and over the chest were printed 'FBI.' The young officer sprang upwards,
disconnecting himself from the IV line. That caused both a doctor and a nurse to
push him back down, but Dawkins fought them with the strength of madness,
holding out his hand to the agent.
Special Agent Bill Clinton was also badly shaken. Only the vagaries of
scheduling had saved his life. He, too, had had a ticket for the game, but he'd
had to give it to another member of his squad. From that misfortune, which had
enraged the young agent only four days earlier, his life had been spared. What
he'd seen at the stadium had stunned him. His exposure to radiation – only forty
Rems, according to Parsons – terrified him, but Clinton, too, was a cop, and he
took the paper from Dawkins' hand.
It was, he saw, a list of cars. One was circled and had a question-mark
scribbled next to the license plate.
'What's this mean?' Clinton asked, leaning past a nurse who was trying to
restart Dawkins' IV line.
'Van,' the man gasped, not hearing, but knowing the question. 'Got in . . .
asked sarge to check it out, but south side, by the TV trucks. ABC van, little
one, two guys, I let them in. Not on my list.'
'South side, does that mean anything?' Clinton asked Parsons.
'That's where it was.' Parsons leaned down. 'What did they look like, the two
men?' He gestured at the paper, then pointed at himself and Clinton.
'White, both thirties, ordinary . . . said they came from Omaha . . . with a
tape machine. Thought it was funny they came from Omaha . . . told Sergeant
Yankevich . . . went to check it out right before.'
'Look,' a doctor said, 'this man is in very bad shape, and I have to – '
'Back off,' Clinton said.
'Did you look in the truck?'
Dawkins only stared. Parsons grabbed a piece of paper and drew a truck on it,
stabbing at the picture with his pencil.
Dawkins nodded, on the edge of consciousness. 'Big box, three feet "SONY"
printed on it – they said it was a tape deck. Truck from Omaha . . . but – ' he
pointed at the list.
Clinton looked. 'Colorado tags!'