5. Point of Impact by Tom Clancy;Steve Perry;Steve R. Pieczenik

Author:Tom Clancy;Steve Perry;Steve R. Pieczenik
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Computers - United States, Crisis management in government - United States, Action & Adventure, Political fiction, Computers, Fiction, Science Fiction, Secret service, Suspense, Technological, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, Secret service - United States, Crisis management in government, Espionage
ISBN: 9780425179239
Publisher: Berkley Books
Published: 2001-03-29T23:00:00+00:00

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Newport Beach, California

The Newport Beach Community Presbyterian Church (USA) was not as ostentatious as, say, the Crystal Palace, but certainly it was L.A.: in your face enough so it wouldn't pass for a church most other places. Philosophically, God's frozen people tended to have conservative views on politics, conservative views on social issues, and of course, conservative views on religion. They were very liberal on converting the heathen, though, and never let a chance to start up an overseas mission pass by unmolested. An old running joke in the church was, the Presbyterians had offered to completely fund the Red Cross and CARE, provided those organizations would let them pack a dehydrated minister in with each big shipment of blood or food. They were mostly Republicans, Drayne figured out back when he was still going to church, mostly white and old Republicans, at that. His family had been members since Grandpa Drayne, a deacon of his church back home in Atlanta, had moved out here eighty years ago. The synods were different, but California and Georgia weren't that far apart as far as the basics were concerned.

The building itself had a lot of glass, giving it a light and airy look, and the air conditioning unit out back, roaring to keep the assembled cool, was the size of a half-ton pickup truck. Drayne figured the reason the Baptists always preached about hellfire was because in those un-air-conditioned Southern churches, the congregation could relate to the concept. If the AC went out during a mild spring hot spell in a Presbyterian church, services would be canceled for fear the assembly would all die of heat stroke.

The place sure didn't seem somber enough for a funeral, and most of the mourners were wearing anything but black. Looked like a flock of parakeets, all the pastel colors. What could you expect? It was L.A., wasn't it?

Drayne's father had been a deacon at one time, though his FBI travel had cut into that, but last Drayne knew, the old man still attended church every Sunday down in Arizona. If he wasn't a true believer, he sure gave that impression.

Drayne himself had skipped every Sunday when his father hadn't been around to make him go, and hadn't been inside a church except for a couple of weddings since he'd left home for college. Oh, and that once when he made a major chemical sale to somebody who thought a Catholic church in Berkeley would be a safe place to do a dope deal. Turned out the buyer was wrong. He got busted after a fender-bender accident leaving the parking lot.

Drayne had managed to dig up a dark suit, a white shirt, and a plain tie that were all five or six years old, unworn for almost that long, knowing that if he came in a T-shirt and shorts, his father would probably pull his gun and shoot him. And even though he was retired, the old man always carried a piece when he went out, a habit he couldn't let go of.

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