Only the Dead: A Thriller by Jack Carr

Author:Jack Carr [Carr, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, Mystery, Suspense
ISBN: 9781982181697
Google: N1O6EAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0BG3BDD5P
Goodreads: 62684353
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2023-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

PART THREE REVELATIONS

New evils require new remedies.

—THE TIMES (LONDON) ON THE NUREMBERG TRIALS

CHAPTER 48

REECE STOOD IN THE hot shower, his head down, watching the blood rinse from his body, swirl around the drain, and disappear down the pipes.

He had been on the verge of hypothermia when he arrived at the safe house. The bike was hot, and he needed a clean ride. Vic had made him memorize the address and access code to the condo. It wasn’t far. The CIA had properties scattered across the world that allowed an agent on the run to find temporary sanctuary. The United States was no different.

This safe house was the closest option to Reece’s position, and it took him only ten minutes to arrive at the small second-floor condo with a one-car garage on Magnolia Street in Cambridge. Harvard and the CIA shared a long and involved history.

The blood on Reece’s hands was already frozen by the time he accelerated onto the Longfellow Bridge and crossed the Charles River. He continued past the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, onto Broadway, and into the heart of Cambridge, a bastion of American academia.

The code opened the garage and Reece maneuvered the bike inside, leaving it wedged next to a dark maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee SUV. He then closed the door and sealed himself inside.

Reece didn’t plan on spending much time at the condo; just a quick rest and refit. He made his way to the second floor using the stairs leading up from the garage and systematically cleared the space, which didn’t take long. It wasn’t huge. It consisted of two bedrooms with en suite bathrooms, a common living area, and a kitchen. A large, knitted Harvard University coat of arms was framed above the couch opposite a flat-screen television. On a shield of “Harvard Crimson” were three open books. VE–RI–TAS was printed across their covers.

Veritas. Truth, Reece thought, remembering the unofficial motto of the Central Intelligence Agency engraved on the wall at headquarters from John 8:32: “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

Maybe that truth will kill us all.

We will know soon enough.

Reece opened a cabinet, found a glass, and slugged down two large glasses of water from the sink.

He was cold and hungry, but there was something he needed to do before he raided the pantry.

Priorities.

He walked to the master bedroom and opened the two drawers in the nightstand on the left side of the bed.

Empty.

He moved to the right side with the same result.

Also empty.

Odd.

His eyes went to the alarm clock on the nightstand.

There it is.

Reece punched the garage code into the four-digit keypad on the top of the Vaultek Smart Station safe. The front of the clock slid forward to reveal a Browning Hi-Power, two extra thirteen-round mags, a fairly old leather holster, and a stack of cash.

Reece removed and examined the legendary pistol. He could tell this one had some history. In 1926, with 128 firearms patents to his name, Browning passed away of heart

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