the president's vampire by christopher farnsworth

Author:christopher farnsworth
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: vampyre
ISBN: 9780340998168
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Published: 2011-04-28T06:00:00+00:00

CANDLE NEVER REALLY FELT like a secret agent, despite his fervent hopes when Graves recruited him. When they first met, he’d tried to introduce himself. The older man cut him off. “First rule,” he said. “Never give your real name. True names have power. You can call me Graves. And from now on, you’re Candle. Got it?”

Candle loved it. A code name. He thought he was going to get a gun and a license to kill. Instead, he got a desk and a computer.

Before he joined the Company, Candle received a regular stipend from the CIA as part of its psy-ops division.

In plainer language, he lied. He wrote op-eds for friendly politicians, distributed talking points and cash to talking heads in the media, and engineered cover-ups when necessary, like when a precision-guided Predator drone mistook an elementary school in Iraq for a terrorist hideout.

After he jumped, he did the same thing, but on a much bigger scale. He generated reports to make Archer/Andrews look like a vital piece of the national security machine. He’d been personally responsible for two elevations of the threat level. One of those times had been with a story about female suicide bombers having surgery to get plastic explosive breast implants.

Candle spent a lot of time commenting anonymously on blogs, starting chain e-mails and planting rumors on message boards. It didn’t take much effort. He planted the seeds, and they grew like kudzu.

But he thought he should be closer to the action. He’d been excited when Graves pulled him in to work counterintelligence on Barrows. He thought he’d finally get to see some real action.

Now that he had his chance, however, he felt a little nauseous.

Hewitt’s special skills unlocked doors and got Candle into the tunnels—the geek part of him was pretty psyched about the secret tunnels. But after that, he was on his own. He got lost twice, even using the detailed turn-by-turn map programmed into his phone.

He was sweating and queasy by the time he found the morgue. He had his gun in one hand, his phone in the other, but he didn’t feel particularly dashing. He was pretty sure a secret agent’s underwear wasn’t supposed to ride up his crack while on a mission.

He peered into the morgue. It was a disaster area. Carefully, he shoved the door open, sweeping first with the pistol, the way he’d been taught at A/A’s firearms course. However, he insisted on holding the gun sideways, despite all the times his instructor had yelled at him about that.

It just looked so damned cool.

The lights flickered in the room. Something really bad had happened in here. He could tell. His foot came down on something sticky, and he knew it was blood.

But the bubble of his fantasies—I’m really doing it! I’m a spy!—was thick enough to be a force field. Candle literally couldn’t imagine anything bad happening to him. In his head, this was all part of the script. This was where he found the way to pry Barrows

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