Set Up With The Agent
Книга "Set Up With The Agent", авторами которой являются Литагент HarperCollins EUR}, Lori Harris L., представляет собой захватывающую работу в жанре Зарубежные детективы. В этом произведении автор рассказывает увлекательную историю, которая не оставит равнодушными читателей.
Автор мастерски воссоздает атмосферу напряженности и интриги, погружая читателя в мир загадок и тайн, который скрывается за хрупкой поверхностью обыденности. С прекрасным чувством языка и виртуозностью сюжетного развития, Литагент HarperCollins EUR позволяет читателю погрузиться в сложные эмоциональные переживания героев и проникнуться их судьбами. EUR настолько живо и точно передает неповторимые нюансы человеческой психологии, что каждая страница книги становится путешествием в глубины человеческой души.
"Set Up With The Agent" - это не только захватывающая история, но и искусство, проникнутое глубокими мыслями и философскими размышлениями. Это произведение призвано вызвать у читателя эмоциональные отклики, задуматься о важных жизненных вопросах и открыть новые горизонты восприятия мира.
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Table of Contents
LORI HARRIS has always enjoyed competition. She grew up in southern Ohio, showing Arabian horses and Great Danes. Later she joined a shooting league, where she competed head to head with police officers – and would be competing today if she hadn’t discovered how much fun and challenging it was to write. Romantic suspense seemed a natural fit. What could be more exciting than writing about life-and-death struggles that include sexy, strong men?
When not in front of a computer, Lori enjoys remodelling her home, gardening and boating. Lori lives in Orlando, Florida, with her very own hero.
For Bobbie Laishley and Bill Laishley And for the Harris Family: Trip, Kathy, Gracie, Mike, Nichele, Brett, Connor, Dillon, John, Billy, Patsy and,
most of all, for Bobby. Love You All!
FBI Special Agent Mark Gerritsen ripped his shirttails from his trousers. It was just past 3:30 a.m. on a hot July night, and he was standing on the street in front of a modest home in a quiet Frederick, Maryland, suburb.
“Has the lab determined how much of the chemical weapon is missing?” Mark kept his voice low. As he stripped off his shirt, he glanced at Special Agent Colton Larson, who stood several feet away.
Larson was also down to his T-shirt. “They’re calling it sizable.”
Mark offered a terse smile. “In other words they don’t know, and they’re trying to cover their asses.”
He suspected it was also the reason the FBI hadn’t been alerted of the theft until the middle of the night—because those in charge of security, of protecting the people from the kind of occurrence that had just taken place, had been scrambling to protect their jobs instead of the American public.
Leaving his shirt hanging over the open car door, Mark grabbed the heavy body armor off the seat and settled it over his shoulders. He shrugged the protection into position before pressing down on the Velcro straps. The rest of the counterterrorism unit had been contacted but was unlikely to arrive in time, which meant Mark and Larson would be working with a local SWAT team.
The target was a home two doors down from their current location. Mark scanned the front of the residence. Except for the dim front porch light, the small, brick ranch house with peeling trim paint had been dark when they’d arrived and remained that way.
The owner, Dr. Harvey Thesing, made a good wage, but from the brief background information Mark had obtained en route, over the past year Thesing had been spending his money on environmental causes. Which should have tipped off his superiors that no matter what his credentials were, Thesing wasn’t the best chemist to work on MX141.
Along with the rundown on Thesing, Mark had also received one on the chemical weapon. Though fairly stable in the powdered form, once dissolved in a liquid and vaporized, its lethal power was immeasurable.
Bottom line, they were talking some nasty stuff.
Mark checked out the surrounding residences. “How are those evacuations coming?” While he had been meeting with the SWAT guys, Larson had been seeing to the perimeter.
Larson looked up. “Local cops have cleared a block in all directions and are in the process of closing off roads.”
Mark would have liked to ask for a larger area, but there just wasn’t time for that luxury right now. It was a decision that he hoped he didn’t end up regretting. “Make sure they stick close by in case we need to get more people out.”
A SWAT team member rounded the front end of Mark’s car, striding soundlessly toward them. “Car’s in the garage. Bedrooms appear to be at the back.”
Mark grabbed the olive drab hazmat suit and stepped into it. Because he’d been assimilating a lot of information when they’d met five minutes ago, it took him a second to recall the officer’s name. Rogers?
Mark slid his arms into the sleeves of the suit. “But you don’t know which one Thesing is using? Or if he’s even in that area of the house.”
“No. We’re not picking up any sounds inside.”
Which meant they might find an empty house. That Thesing could already be putting his plan into motion.
Mark zipped up the lightweight suit. But what was Thesing’s agenda? What in the hell did a tree hugger do with a chemical weapon that he’d been instrumental in developing?
“What about a basement?” Mark asked.
“There’s one.”
“Any type of entrance?”
“Two well windows that are boarded up from inside.”
Was it possible that Thesing was sleeping down there? Perhaps because with the recent heat wave it was cooler?
Mark grabbed his holstered weapon and strapped it on. “Any word on whether Thesing owns a gun?”
“Nothing registered.”
