Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
CHAPTER 1 - MEMO
CHAPTER 2 - SADDLING UP
CHAPTER 3 - GNOMES AND GUNS
CHAPTER 4 - AAR
CHAPTER 5 - RAMIFICATIONS
CHAPTER 6 - TRUE BELIEVERS
CHAPTER 7 - FINANCE
CHAPTER 8 - COVERAGE
CHAPTER 9 - STALKERS
CHAPTER 10 - DIGGERS
CHAPTER 11 - INFRASTRUCTURE
CHAPTER 12 - WILD CARDS
CHAPTER 13 - AMUSEMENT
CHAPTER 14 - SWORD OF THE LEGION
CHAPTER 15 - WHITE HATS
CHAPTER 16 - DISCOVERY
CHAPTER 17 - BUSHES
CHAPTER 18 - LOOKS
CHAPTER 19 - SEARCHING
CHAPTER 20 - CONTACTS
CHAPTER 21 - STAGES
CHAPTER 22 - COUNTERMEASURES
CHAPTER 23 - OVERWATCH
CHAPTER 24 - CUSTOMS
CHAPTER 25 - SUNRISE
CHAPTER 26 - CONCLUSIONS
CHAPTER 27 - TRANSFER AGENTS
CHAPTER 28 - BROAD DAYLIGHT
CHAPTER 29 - RECOVERY
CHAPTER 30 - VISTAS
CHAPTER 31 - MOVEMENT
CHAPTER 32 - BLOOD WORK
CHAPTER 33 - THE GAMES BEGIN
CHAPTER 34 - THE GAMES CONTINUE
CHAPTER 35 - MARATHON
CHAPTER 36 - FLIGHTS OF NECESSITY
CHAPTER 37 - DYING FLAME
CHAPTER 38 - NATURE RESORT
CHAPTER 39 - HARMONY
EPILOGUE
John Clark is used to doing the CIA’s dirty work. Now he’s taking on the world . . . Rainbow Six
Number-one bestselling author Tom Clancy goes beyond anything he has done before in Rainbow Six. It is his most shocking story to date—and closer to reality than any government would care to admit . . .
At its heart is ex-Navy SEAL John Clark, now the newly named head of Rainbow, an international task force dedicated to combating terrorism. In a trial by fire, Clark is confronted with a violent chain of seemingly separate international incidents. But there is no way to predict the real threat: a group of terrorists like none the world has ever encountered, a band of men and women so extreme that their success could literally mean the end of life on earth as we know it . . .
“ACTION-PACKED . . . chock-full of munitions experts, sharpshooters and all-around daredevils . . . meticulously researched and carefully plotted.”—The New York Times Book Review
“ATTENTION ON DECK! Ex-Navy SEAL John Clark and his son-in-law Domingo “Ding” Chavez, who locked and loaded in previous Clancy blockbusters Clear and Present Danger and Without Remorse, are back in action, defending freedom and playing fast and loose, as always, with any rules that get in the way . . . a gripping plot . . . bolt-action mayhem.”—People
“CLANCY IS A NATURAL STORYTELLER . . . Rainbow Six shows how much [he] has improved his character development. He still provides the thrills. But we also identify with Clark and his Rainbow colleagues.”—USA Today
“MR. CLANCY IS IN HIS ELEMENT. His description of special-forces operations is as exciting as anything a reader will find . . . When the door blows open and the shooting starts, nobody does it better.”—The Dallas Morning News
“[A] FAST-PACED, RETRO-CLANCY TALE . . . A leaner, meaner novel that allows Clancy’s undeniable story-telling talents to come to the fore.”—The Cleveland Plain Dealer
“THE PACE RARELY SLACKENS in this well-crafted, very readable thriller . . . a terrific yarn.”
—The San Francisco Examiner
“A RIPPING READ . . . a strong premise and world-class action sequences . . . All of Clancy’s fans . . . will revel in the writer’s continued mastery at action writing; Rainbow’s engagements . . . are immensely suspenseful, breathtaking combos of expertly detailed combat and primal emotion.”
—Publishers Weekly
“VINTAGE CLANCY.”—San Antonio Express-News
“RAINBOW SIX MOVES FAST AND FURIOUSLY AND KEEPS YOU IN SUSPENSE FROM BEGINNING TO END.”—Bookpage
“ONCE I GOT INTO RAINBOW SIX, I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN . . . As always, Clancy tells a dandy story. His fans will storm the bookstores to snatch up Rainbow Six, and they will get their money’s worth . . . splendid technical detail and expert pacing.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“I PRONOUNCE MYSELF A BORN-AGAIN CLANCY FAN . . . taut, well-constructed and eminently readable . . . Clancy manages to keep things moving. Heck, the book starts with a hijacking and things only get more interesting.”
—Lexington Herald-Leader
“EXPLOSIVE.”—Kirkus Reviews
The Bestselling Novels of
Tom Clancy
The Bear and the Dragon
A clash of world powers. President Jack Ryan’s trial by fire.
“HEART-STOPPING ACTION . . . CLANCY STILL REIGNS.”
—The Washington Post
Debt of Honor
It begins with the murder of an American woman in the back streets of Tokyo. It ends in war . . .
“A SHOCKER CLIMAX SO PLAUSIBLE YOU’LL WONDER WHY IT HASN’T YET HAPPENED.”
—Entertainment Weekly
The Hunt for Red October
The smash bestseller that launched Clancy’s career—the incredible search for a Soviet defector and the nuclear submarine he commands . . .
“BREATHLESSLY EXCITING.”—The Washington Post
Red Storm Rising
The ultimate scenario for World War III—the final battle for global control . . .
“THE ULTIMATE WAR GAME . . . BRILLIANT.”
—Newsweek
Patriot Games
CIA analyst Jack Ryan stops an assassination—and incurs the wrath of Irish terrorists . . .
“A HIGH PITCH OF EXCITEMENT.”
—The Wall Street Journal
The Cardinal of the Kremlin
The superpowers race for the ultimate Star Wars missile defense system . . .
“CARDINAL EXCITES, ILLUMINATES . . . A REAL PAGE-TURNER.”—Los Angeles Daily News
Clear and Present Danger
The killing of three U.S. officials in Colombia ignites the American government’s explosive, and top secret, response . . .
“A CRACKLING GOOD YARN.”—The Washington Post
The Sum of All Fears
The disappearance of an Israeli nuclear weapon threatens the balance of power in the Middle East—and around the world . . .
“CLANCY AT HIS BEST . . . NOT TO BE MISSED.”
—The Dallas Morning News
Without Remorse
The Clancy epic fans have been waiting for. His code name is Mr. Clark. And his work for the CIA is brilliant, cold-blooded, and efficient . . . but who is he really?
“HIGHLY ENTERTAINING.”—The Wall Street Journal
NOVELS BY TOM CLANCY
The Hunt for Red October
Red Storm Rising
Patriot Games
The Cardinal of the Kremlin
Clear and Present Danger
The Sum of All Fears
Without Remorse
Debt of Honor
Executive Orders
Rainbow Six
The Bear and the Dragon
SSN: Strategies of Submarine Warfare
CREATED BY TOM CLANCY AND STEVE PIECZENIK
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: Mirror Image
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: Games of State
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: Acts of War
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: Balance of Power
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: State of Siege
Tom Clancy’s Op-Cent
er: Divide and Conquer
Tom Clancy’s Op-Center: Line of Control
Tom Clancy’s Net Force
Tom Clancy’s Net Force: Hidden Agendas
Tom Clancy’s Net Force: Night Moves
Tom Clancy’s Net Force: Breaking Point
Tom Clancy’s Net Force: Point of Impact
Tom Clancy’s Net Force: CyberNation
CREATED BY TOM CLANCY AND MARTIN GREENBERG
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays: Politika
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays: ruthless.com
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays: Shadow Watch
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays: Bio-Strike
NONFICTION
Submarine: A Guided Tour Inside a Nuclear Warship
Armored Cav: A Guided Tour of an Armored Cavalry Regiment
Fighter Wing: A Guided Tour of an Air Force Combat Wing
Marine: A Guided Tour of a Marine Expeditionary Unit
Airborne: A Guided Tour of an Airborne Task Force
Carrier: A Guided Tour of an Aircraft Carrier
Special Forces: A Guided Tour of U.S. Army Special Forces
Into the Storm: A Study in Command
(written with General Fred Franks)
Every Man a Tiger (written with General Charles Horner)
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the
settings and characters are fictitious and not intended to represent
RAINBOW SIX
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with
the author
PRINTING HISTORY
G. P. Putnam’s Sons edition / August 1998
Berkley edition / September 1999
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1998 by Rubicon, Inc.
Photograph of the author by John Earle.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part,
by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.
For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is
http://www.penguinputnam.com
eISBN : 978-1-101-00229-2
BERKLEY®
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a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
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FOR ALEXANDRA MARIA
lux mea mundi
There are no compacts between lions and men, and wolves and lambs have no concord.
—HOMER
PROLOGUE
SETTING UP
John Clark had more time in airplanes than most licensed pilots, and he knew the statistics as well as any of them, but he still didn’t like the idea of crossing the ocean on a twin-engine airliner. Four was the right number of engines, he thought, because losing one meant losing only 25 percent of the aircraft’s available power, whereas on this United 777, it meant losing half. Maybe the presence of his wife, one daughter, and a son-in-law made him a little itchier than usual. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t itchy at all, not about flying anyway. It was just a lingering . . . what? he asked himself. Next to him, in the window seat Sandy was immersed in the mystery she’d started the day before, while he was trying to concentrate on the current issue of The Economist, and wondering what was putting the cold-air feeling on the back of his neck. He started to look around the cabin for a sign of danger but abruptly stopped himself. There wasn’t anything wrong that he could see, and he didn’t want to seem like a nervous flyer to the cabin crew. He sipped at his glass of white wine, shook his shoulders, and went back to the article on how peaceful the new world was.
Right. He grimaced. Well, yes, he had to admit that things were a hell of a lot better than they’d been for nearly all of his life. No more swimming out of a submarine to do a collection on a Russian beach, or flying into Tehran to do something the Iranians wouldn’t like much, or swimming up a fetid river in North Vietnam to rescue a downed aviator. Someday maybe Bob Holtzman would talk him into a book on his career. Problem was, who’d believe it—and would CIA ever allow him to tell his tales except on his own deathbed? He was not in a hurry for that, not with a grandchild on the way. Damn. He grimaced, unwilling to contemplate that development. Patsy must have caught a silver bullet on their wedding night, and Ding glowed more about it than she did. John looked back to business class—the curtain wasn’t in place yet—and there they were, holding hands while the stewardess did the safety lecture. If the airplane hit the water at 400 knots, reach under your seat for the life preserver and inflate it by pulling . . . he’d heard that one before. The bright yellow life jackets would make it somewhat easier for search aircraft to find the crash site, and that was about all they were good for.
Clark looked around the cabin again. He still felt that draft on his neck. Why? The flight attendant made the rounds, removing his wineglass as the aircraft taxied out to the end of the runway. Her last stop was by Alistair over on the left side of the first-class cabin. Clark caught his eye and got a funny look back as the Brit put his seat back in the upright position. Him, too? Wasn’t that something? Neither of the two had ever been accused of nervousness.
Alistair Stanley had been a major in the Special Air Service before being permanently seconded to the Secret Intelligence Service. His position had been much like John’s—the one you called in to take care of business when the gentler people in the field division got a little too skittish. Al and John had hit it off right away on a job in Romania eight years before, and the American was pleased to be working with him again on a more regular basis, even if they were both too old now for the fun stuff. Administration wasn’t exactly John’s idea of what his job should be, but he had to admit he wasn’t twenty anymore . . . or thirty . . . or even forty. A little old to run down alleys and jump over walls. . . . Ding had said that to him only a week before in John’s office at Langley, rather more respectfully than usual, since he was trying to make a logical point to the grandfather-presumptive of his first child. What the hell, Clark told himself, it was remarkable enough that he was still alive to gripe about being old—no, not old, older. Not to mention he was respectable now as Director of the new agency. Director. A polite term for a REMF. But you didn’t say no to the President, especially if he happened to be your friend.
The engine sounds increased. The airliner started moving. The usual sensation came, like being pressed back into the seat of a sports car jumping off a red light, but with more authority. Sandy, who hardly traveled at all, didn’t look up from the book. It must have been pretty good, though John never bothered reading mysteries. He never could figure them out, and they made him feel stupid, despite the fact that in his professional life he’d picked his way through real mysteries more than once. A little voice in his head said rotate, and the floor came up under his feet. The body of the aircraft followed the nose into the sky, and the flight began properly, the wheels rising up into the wells. Instantly, those around him lowered their seats to get some sleep on the way to London Heathrow. John lowered his, too, but not as far. He wanted dinner first.
“On our way, honey,” Sandy said, taking a second away from the book.
“I hope you like it over there.”
“I have three cookbooks for after I figure this one out.”
John smiled. “Who done it?”
“Not sure yet, but probably the wife.”
“Yeah, divorce lawyers are so expensive.”
Sandy chuckled and went back to the story as the stews got up from their seats to resume drink service. Clark finished The Economist and started Sports Illustrated. Damn, he’d be missing the end of the football season. Tha
t was one thing he’d always tried to keep track of, even off on a mission. The Bears were coming back, and he’d grown up with Papa Bear George Halas and the Monsters of the Midway—had often wondered if he might have made it as a pro himself. He’d been a pretty good linebacker in high school, and Indiana University had shown some interest in him (also for his swimming). Then he’d decided to forgo college and join the Navy, as his father had before him, though Clark had become a SEAL, rather than a skimmer-sailor on a tin can . . .
“Mr. Clark?” The stew delivered the dinner menu. “Mrs. Clark?”
One nice thing about first class. The flight crew pretended you had a name. John had gotten an automatic upgrade—he had frequent-flyer miles up the yingyang, and from now on he’d mainly fly British Airways, which had a very comfortable understanding with the British government.
The menu, he saw, was pretty good, as it usually was on international flights, and so was the wine list . . . but he decided to ask for bottled water instead of wine, thank you. Hmph. He grumbled to himself, settled back, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. These damned flights always seemed overheated to him.