Checkmate (Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell)
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He is Sam Fisher: Third Echelon special operative. And when a cargo freighter loaded down with radioactive material is headed towards the coast of the United States, he has minutes to disable the ship - or die trying.
another day?” “Yeah, sorry, hang on.” She was back a minute later: “Okay, locks and alarms are disengaged.” “Going in,” Fisher replied. The hand wheel was well oiled and it turned smoothly under his grip. He spun it until he heard the soft clank of metal on metal, then gently pulled. The scuttle swung open. Arms extended before him, he swam through. His fins had barely cleared the opening when suddenly he heard the muffled shriek of alarm klaxons. In the distance, a water-muffled voice came
inside. HE found the section of catwalk between the engines just as he’d left it: pried back and tossed to one side. The fire hose he’d used to stop the Trego was also still there, a charred and tangled mass wrapped around the reduction gear. Aside from the ticking of cooling pipes and the occasional hiss of steam, the space was quiet. He heard the metallic thunk of a hatch opening. He switched his goggles to NV and turned around. A pair of figures in bio-hazard suits were stepping through
found himself suddenly staring at a map of downtown Kyoto, rather than the schematic of the Nampo shipyard he was trying to escape. “What am I looking at?” he asked. Anna Grimsdottir, Lambert’s chief technical guru, replied, “Real-time feed from an advanced KH-12 Crystal. You’re looking at the Atlantic Ocean, about six miles east of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. See the highlighted blip?” A tiny football shape in the top right corner pulsed once. “I see it. Cargo freighter. So what?” “Here’s
duct tape? On the wrists and ankles and neck? Make sure you get a good seal.” “I will.” Fisher closed the door and Elena drove away. He waited until the Kadett’s taillights disappeared around the bend, then shouldered his duffel and walked into the woods. FISHER didn’t think Alexi was confused. He believed every word of the old tanker’s story. Someone had bought their way into the Exclusion Zone and then bought access to one the bunkers, and you don’t buy that kind of access from a pair of
the infrared side. He refocused on the guard and laid the recticle over the man’s chest. He squeezed the trigger. The guard spasmed once, then slumped back against the wall and slid down into a pile. Fisher shifted his aim, shot out the ground spotlight, then shifted again and waited for another guard to come investigate the outage. Five minutes passed. No one came. He holstered the SC-20, then crawled ahead until the entrance arch blocked the mansion’s upper windows, then got up and sprinted