Endgame (Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #6)
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The National Security Agency's top-secret initiative to protect the United States from potential threats has been dubbed the Third Echelon. It deploys a lone field operative. He is sharp, nearly invisible, and deadly. And he has the right to spy, steal, destroy, and assassinate to protect American freedoms.
His name is Sam Fisher. He is a Splinter Cell®Third Echlon.
Operative Fisher knows that several disastrous missions have depleted the ranks of the Splinter Cells. What he doesn’t know is that a stunning piece of evidence has been uncovered that points to the mole who sold out his government…
to further his career was not a morally sound choice, but maybe there was a way to avoid lying. He realized he would have to feel out Grim, learn exactly how much she knew, before he shared the details of his interrogation by Rugar. Perhaps he could get Grim to admit that another field operative had been assigned to the mission, that she hadn’t really taken a chance on him, and then he could be honest with her. Or . . . he could be entirely wrong about all of it. The shooter could be someone
and/or abandon it. By that time Hansen and the others should be long gone. They drove though the French countryside, the farmlands reminding Hansen of some of the Sunday drives he’d taken with his parents through Texas, although none of that terrain appeared even remotely as fertile as these grounds. However, the same sense of loneliness and utter quiet was still there. Thankfully, Ames kept his mouth shut for most of the ride, and Gillespie sat quietly herself. Noboru and Valentina followed
all about you saving your ass, and we do the dirty work. I’ve already put a lot into this job. I’m not going to screw it up over one administrator.” “Ben, you’ll drive yourself mad if you keep trying to read into all of this. Just do as I ask.” Hansen shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever.” THAT evening Ames stole an opportunity to contact Stingray. Ames had a request for Kovac: He wanted Karlheinz van der Putten terminated, just in case Hansen decided to follow up with the man, who would say, “No, I
up at the night sky while seated in their rocking chairs. Mom and Gillespie insisted upon doing the dishes, even though that was Dad’s job: She cooked it; he cleaned it up. But since Hansen was visiting, the rules had changed, and Gillespie was having fun chatting with Mom, so she’d volunteered to help clean up. The conversation seemed to lift her spirits. “This was such a great surprise, Ben,” Buck Hansen said. “And it gets me out of KP duty.” “Like I said, Pop, sometimes they just throw us
reverse grip, keeping it tucked against his inner forearm, and within the better part of a second, he would have that blade pressed firmly against Mr. Sam Fisher’s throat. 36 LUKOIL WAREHOUSE ANNEX ODESSA, UKRAINE “I’M going back inside,” said Ames. “No, you’re not,” Valentina said, crossing in front of him. She was a couple of breaths away from punching him squarely in the jaw. In her mind’s eye, she watched him drop to the oily pavement, hand going to the blood trickling down from