Fallen Sparrow

Darin Templet

Description

STAY FOCUSED, STAY ALERT, AND NEVER FALL IN LOVE
To most people, Katie Baker is an ordinary twenty-something secretary employed at a Houston-based aerospace firm. Yet, unknown to those around her, Katie is also an expert pilot and security protection driver. She speaks several languages fluently, mastered multiple martial arts, and is skilled in a wide range of firearms and bladed weapons. Katie is also a trained assassin with four kills to her name. Above all, she can make herself drop-dead gorgeous and knows all the tricks to seduce a man.
Katie’s real name is Katerina Kuznestov, and she is a Russian spy.
Ordered by her handler to seduce a geeky software engineer working on a classified project, Katie jumps in with all the enthusiasm of her previous assignments. Soon after becoming intimate with her target, Katie begins to develop feelings for him—feelings that her training and experience do not allow.
When the mission reaches its critical stage, will Katie stay true to her training or will her affection for the engineer jeopardize the mission, risking both of their lives?

Sujets

• Thrillers
• Thriller
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 24 février 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9798823001755
• Langue: English

Extrait

FALLEN SPARROW
 
ПАВШИЙ ВОРОБЕЙ
 
 
 
 
DARIN TEMPLET
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Darin Templet. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 02/23/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0176-2 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0174-8 (hc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0175-5 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023903348
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PROLOGUE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank the following people without whose help, this book would have never been written:
My wife, Melanie, who had the patience and understanding to allow me the time to work on this book.
Jennifer Landry and John Shepard for their assistance with the Spanish dialogue.
Officer Chris Beck, Rio Rancho Police Department, for technical advice on police and crime scene procedures.
Captain Freddy Morales, USMC (Retired), for technical advice on Department of Defense protocols and procedures.
Stephen Snider, paramedic, Sandoval County Fire & Rescue, for technical advice on wounds and wound treatment.
PROLOGUE
“Is this new threat credible?”
Ivan blinked instinctively.
General Vasiliev’s question was valid, even standard.
“I believe it is, sir,” Ivan finally answered.
Vasiliev slowly nodded. He sat behind a large dark brown mahogany desk, wearing the green service uniform of the Russian Army. His right shoulder patch bore the white, blue, and red Russian flag over the state double-headed eagle. His green shoulder boards held the single gold star of a major general, and he wore his gray hair short per military regulations.
Outside the window, a driving snowstorm blew, a typical early springtime day in Moscow.
Colonel Ivan Zhukov, seated across the desk from his superior, also wore his dark brown hair cut short. However, contrasting with his commander’s uniform, he wore a dark gray business suit with the Russian tricolor pin on his left coat lapel.
The everyday uniform of the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki or Foreign Intelligence Service.
The SVR.
“Still,” Vasiliev continued, “the Americans have been down this road before, starting with President Reagan’s ‘Star Wars’ program.”
“True, General,” Ivan replied. “But based on our latest intercepts, the Americans may be working on a new approach to counter our ICBM forces. If they succeed, we fear they will be able to launch a first strike against us with impunity.”
“And with the heightened tensions over our invasion of Ukraine, war with NATO—and America—is an alarming possibility.” General Vasiliev paused a moment. “What do we know about this latest threat?”
“We have a sleeper inside the aerospace company developing this system for the US Department of Defense. She feeds her handler information from this company every few days. Most of it is just mundane data, but there was something quite interesting in an accounting record she sent us last month.”
Vasiliev stared indignantly. “An accounting record?”
“Yes, sir. It was a bill to the Department of Defense for something called the LRV, no doubt a code name. The bill was categorized under the heading ICBM defense.”
“So the Americans are developing a new antimissile system?”
“We’re not sure, sir,” Ivan replied. “Nothing in the invoice indicated material purchases, so this new threat could be software-based. We have determined that this LRV program is intended to neutralize our ICBMs, but we don’t know exactly how.” He paused and added, “The good news is that we think we’ve identified the lead engineer on the LRV project.”
“Then it’s imperative that we find out all we can from this engineer,” Vasiliev declared. “The sleeper inside this company, you indicated it’s a female?”
“Yes, sir. I believe you’ve met her. She and I worked together seven years ago when we cracked that CIA ring operating in Moscow.”
Vasiliev nodded. “I do remember her. She was a resourceful and, shall we say, beautiful young lady. I assume she’s sparrow trained?”
“She is, and her last mission in Germany four years ago was quite successful.”
“Then she needs to get ‘friendly’ with this engineer immediately. Who is her current handler?”
“Demetri Petrov. This is his first assignment as a handler, but he was a competent field agent before his promotion. He’s currently assigned as an attaché to the consulate in Houston.”
“Good. Contact Petrov at once. Order him to have our sleeper target the engineer and find out all she can about this LRV program. We need to know what the Americans are planning before their sanctions over Ukraine escalate to actual war.”
Ivan gave a quick nod as he rose. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
“And Zhukov … if she can’t pry any information from this engineer …”
Ivan nodded again. “I understand, sir.”
1
THE BLARING ALARM JOLTED KATIE awake.
She reached from under the covers and hit the snooze button. Then she drew the sheet and comforter closer to her body, snuggling in the resulting cocoon.
Her mind drifted back to near sleep as she tried to immerse herself in the dream again.
She lay on a beach on a Caribbean island.
James Bond sat next to her, her favorite one, the Bond played by Timothy Dalton.
His cleft chin is so sexy.
He reached over and idly loosened the ties of her swim top.
She sighed in delight, eagerly awaiting his touch, his kiss.
The alarm blared again.
“Damn,” Katie muttered. She reached over and slapped the off switch.
The blaring ceased.
Rolling onto her back, Katie flung the covers aside and stared at the white ceiling.
“It would be so nice,” she whispered, happily remembering the dream.
Get real, she chastised herself. The odds of her meeting Dalton were so remote it wasn’t worth pondering.
Besides, he’s in his midseventies now. He’s old enough to be my grandfa ther.
Katie sighed again as she fantasized.
He’s still sexy.
Forcing herself out of bed, Katie took the water glass from her bedside table and drained the rest of it. She then stumbled to the bathroom and splashed more water on her face. Katie turned on the shower and brushed her teeth while waiting for the water to warm up. Then, after testing the shower’s temperature, she stripped off her nightclothes and stepped in.
A moment later, a freshly clean Katie stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying her red hair. After donning fresh underwear from the dresser next to her bed, Katie sat at her makeup table.
She blow-dried, combed, and brushed her hair, then applied her makeup, giving herself the professional business look required at the office.
She took a moment to admire her reflection. At twenty-eight, Katie still cherished her appearance. Her wavy red hair hung well below her shoulders, framing a smooth, fair face with slightly elevated cheekbones that indicated a Slavic heritage. Light hazel eyes, perfect teeth, and a five-foot-four, slender body made her every man’s dream girl.
Even James Bond.
She then rose from the makeup table and pulled an outfit from the closet: a white, button-down blouse and a gray, tweed skirt. Black pantyhose and black pumps with modest heels completed her work attire. Katie then slipped a black, leather-band watch on her left wrist, a gold chain bracelet on her right wrist, and a matching gold chain necklace around her neck. A few rings on various fingers and diamond-studded earrings topped off the bling.
Her left ring finger was noticeably bare.
She then slipped on a gray, tweed coat that matched her skirt, grabbed her purse, phone, and keys, and headed out the front door of her modest apartment. Her blue Corolla waited in the parking lot. Slipping the purse on the passenger seat beside her, she pressed the start button and shifted into reverse, backing out of her space. Then, shifting into first gear, she drove out of the parking lot.
On the way to work, Katie pulled into her favorite convenience store and parked next to an open gas pump. After gassing up her car, she stepped inside for a coffee and a breakfast burrito.
She was waiting in line at the register when she focused on a newspaper headline: “Western Support for Ukraine Is Growing.”
Katie snorted at the headline.
Putin is an idiot. Ukraine will be to the Russian Federation what Afghanistan was to the old Soviet U nion.
Katie dismissed the thought and stepped up to make her purchase. Fortified for the morning, she returned to her car and drove off to work.
Katie slipped into a line of cars at Sunstone Industries’ parking lot entrance. Two security guards stood in front of the security hut. One guard scanned the parking