Page 47 of The Atlas Maneuver

“I never counted on the Japanese showing up,” she said. “Neither did Koger, I bet.”

“Why are they involved?”

“The answer to that will have to come from Koger. Sorry, Harold. But this is his show.”

“Which you invited him to. So you’re the host of this party.”

He’d read once that smart people exhibited ten qualities. Highly adaptable. Understood what they didn’t know. Possessed an insatiable curiosity. Read a lot. Open-minded. Liked their own company. Had a high sense of self-control. Were funny. Sensitive to other people’s experiences. And always, always, thought creatively.

He liked to think himself smart.

So to get to the truth, he was going to have to apply all ten.

The problem?

Suzy Baldwin was smart too.

AIKO STOOD OUTSIDE THE WRECKED CONSULATE CAR AND WATCHED ASa police cruiser appeared and two officers worked the wreck. Witnesses confirmed the presence of the van that had run the intersection first, along with its markings. Her car being registered to the consulate meant diplomatic immunity was in place, which the Swiss protected with a religious fervor.

So no explanations would be required.

The consulate breach was serious. Her transport van driver had disappeared, replaced by another man who’d entered the building shooting, then had been shot dead. Killed by Cotton Malone. Another of her contingent had also been killed. An awful lot of bloodshed.

The culprits?

Had to be CIA.

Who else?

CHAPTER 27

CASSIOPEIA EASED HER HEAD OUT OF THE WATER JUST ENOUGH TO SUCKa few breaths through her nose. She treaded water and saw that she was about five meters from the boat, its three occupants facing away.

Her body had adjusted to the cold, but she wasn’t looking forward to climbing out. She heard voices and assumed Koger was engaging them, as planned, dangling the metal tube, supposedly negotiating a trade for Citrone. She kept down, swept her arms out and in, and eased closer. Luckily, it was a small craft, low in the water. Which should make what she was about to do a touch easier.

The boat’s engine was off. Thank goodness.

That prop could pose a real danger.

More voices back and forth.

English.

She timed her approach with the bobbing and waited for a down swell. When it happened she planted the palms of her hands on the gunwale and kicked as the boat rose back up. There’d be noise that would alert the two men standing only a couple of meters in front of her, facing away.

So she had to be quick.

Citrone, a rotund man with legs out of proportion to his bulging torso, stood off to one side.

Up and over and she was on the deck.

Water dripped from her soaked shirt and pants.

She met Citrone’s gaze. For an instant.

Then the two Japanese turned, but she gave neither time to react, calling on her experience-trained reflexes. She kicked the one on the right hard at the shoulders, sending him over the side and into the water. As he fell she saw he was holding a gun. She spun on her heel and prepared to deal with the second man.

Citrone moved out of the way.

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