Lethal Force Read Free

number of members present to protect his identity. In fact, they had never used his real name and he had used a disguise. But this time would be different. They used his real name and, from what Jake could tell, this would be in front of cameras. Somebody wanted to make a show of this. Members of congress flocked to cameras like moths to a street light.
    â€œI don’t have time for this crap,” Jake said, swishing the paper through the air.
    â€œMister Adams, that’s an official subpoena from the U.S. Congress.”
    â€œI know what it is, Sonny. But I’m retired and on vacation. When I’m done here I’ll be heading down to Tierra del Fuego to catch as many sea-run Browns as humanly possible for a full week.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    Jake shook his head. He hadn’t planned that far ahead. He still had his apartment in Innsbruck, Austria. But in January it was too cold there. It made his synthetic left knee ache. He wasn’t planning to return to Austria until April or May. The same was true of his ancestral home in Montana. He couldn’t go there until June. He was considering someplace warm for a few months. Perhaps the West Indies or Costa Rica.
    Jake looked at the letter again. “Two days? How am I supposed to get there by Friday?”
    The state department man smiled. “We have that covered, sir. It’s an hour drive to San Martin. A two-hour flight to Buenos Aires, and then a ten-hour flight to D.C.”
    â€œI am not flying coach,” Jake said vehemently. He still had the second half of his first class ticket from Argentina to Houston, from where he could fly almost anywhere.
    â€œIn the envelope, sir,” the man said with a smile.
    Jake found a second piece of paper, folded in half against the side of the envelope. It contained his flight information and a hotel in Washington. Regardless, he still wasn’t sure he wanted to comply with this order. He had followed orders all his adult life. But now he only followed his own path.
    â€œI am to accompany you to Washington.”
    â€œNo way. I don’t need a baby sitter. And I won’t ride in that death taxi,” Jake said, pointing at the decrepit car.
    â€œFine. We’ll take the vehicle you rented at the San Martin airport.”
    Of course they would know about that, Jake thought. He had done nothing to cover his tracks on this trip. At the time he didn’t suspect he needed to hide from his own government. But they could track any Visa he used. Well, not any Visa. Only those with his real name. Without saying another word to the state department man, Jake got into his guide’s SUV. He guessed the stag roast would be dried out by now. Damn. That would have tasted great.

2
    Corvallis, Oregon
    A steady rain pounded the roof of Professor James Tramil’s Toyota Camry as he drove slowly down 39 th Avenue a few blocks from Oregon State University. Tramil had worked late in his lab until he had gotten a call from his colleague, Professor Stephan Zursk, asking him to stop by his home as soon as possible, which was out of the ordinary. The two of them had worked together all day in the nanotech lab, and Stephan had left at eight p.m. Now, after midnight, they would both normally be well asleep, ready to get back at their work by six a.m. But this current project was right on the cusp of a major breakthrough. They both knew it. In fact, Tramil had e-mailed his friend just a few hours ago, saying he thought he had broken their little stalemate. Maybe that’s why Stephan had called him to come to his place in the hills northwest of town.
    Tramil hated this rain. The only good thing about the rain from November to March in western Oregon was it was much easier to focus in the lab, under the stark florescent lights. There was nothing distracting him outside. He didn’t ski. Hiked in the mountains only during the summer months. And only went to Portland to fly out of PDX to some