Red Eagle: Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers, #10

By J. Robert Kennedy

"Dylan Kane leaves James Bond in his dust!"

★★★★★ FROM AWARD WINNING USA TODAY & MILLION COPY BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. ROBERT KENNEDY ★★★★★

THEY TOOK HIS FRIEND.
THAT WAS THEIR FIRST MISTAKE.

When CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane's handler is kidnapped in a brazen attack, his team leaps into action to track down those behind the abduction.

And they have only one clue.

Her final words, shouted as she was taken, and whispered by their boss as he lay dying.

Red Eagle.

However, the moment they begin the investigation, armed guards arrive at the operations center deep in the heart of CIA Headquarters at Langley, locking them down.

And the reason for the lockdown is not only shocking, but the implications terrifying, sending Kane on a desperate mission to not only rescue his handler and friend, but to prevent the knowledge she possesses that in the wrong hands could start World War III.

In Red Eagle, award winning USA Today and million copy bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy once again blends history and today's headlines to deliver a pulse-pounding action packed thriller, where the stakes have never been higher, and failure is not an option. If you enjoy Bond, Bourne, and Hunt, then you'll love Dylan Kane.

Get your copy of Red Eagle now, and join the race to recover a CIA asset lost since the Cold War, with intel that could destroy the world…

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE DYLAN KANE SERIES

★★★★★ "The action sequences are particularly well-written and exciting, without being overblown."

★★★★★ "I love how the author explains what's needed but doesn't just ramble on in narrative."

★★★★★ "The events in this adventure are so real and so heart pounding you can't put it down. Mr. Kennedy is by far my favorite writer."

★★★★★ "Don't mess with Kane, he takes no prisoners, especially when you target his friends."

★★★★★ "This is one of the best stories I have ever read. The action and plot is believable and exciting and of course the climax is nail biting stuff. This author sure knows his stuff - if not, he does a great job of convincing his reader that he does!"

★★★★★ "Fast paced international spy thriller with good old American values among its main characters. I'd like to think we really do have agents like Kane."

• Language: English
• Publisher: UnderMill Press
• Release date: Aug 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393267751

J. Robert Kennedy

With millions of books sold, award-winning and USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is a full-time writer and the author of over seventy international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers.

Book preview

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Table of Contents

The Novel

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Acknowledgments

Don't Miss Out!

Thank You!

About the Author

Also by the Author

For Beirut’s victims of corruption.

Three hundred billion dollars or more has been stolen from the Russian people by [Putin]. We should expose him for what he is.

Tom Tugendhat

UK Foreign Affairs Committee Chair

March 14, 2018

It’s just chitchat, nonsense, nothing to discuss. They picked it out of their noses and smeared it on their pieces of paper.

Vladimir Putin

As told to Bloomberg View columnist Leonid Bershidsky

PREFACE

History has repeatedly shown that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even in modern times, those given total control of their country’s treasury have proven themselves unable to resist the temptation to take from the people they rule. From Ferdinand Marcos of the Philippines to Mohamed Suharto of Indonesia, they have stolen billions from their countrymen.

Yet none compare to the scale of the man some consider the richest in the world.

Russian President Vladimir Putin.

Estimates put his net-worth anywhere from $40-300 billion—staggering numbers for a man who earns a little over $100,000 a year. Experts believe much is hidden in his multiple yachts and palaces, holdings in oil, gas, and financial companies, and other hard assets, including an extensive watch collection. However, even that can’t account for the vast majority of that stolen from the Russian people.

Meaning much is sitting in anonymous accounts at financial institutions located in jurisdictions around the world that allow such things.

And as past experience has shown, bank accounts can be accessed without authorization, leaving a question begging for an answer.

What would happen if someone found Putin’s hidden billions?

Description: Chapter Header

1 |

Helsinki, Finland

Leif Morrison, National Clandestine Services Chief for the CIA, put down his coffee and regarded his companion, a woman he had first encountered decades ago at the beginning of his career. She was now in the twilight of hers, and all indications suggested she had no interest in retiring, despite the fact she was eligible for a full pension.

She loved her work as much as he did.

There was something about protecting one’s country that was highly satisfying. The average American had no idea about the threats out there, and many scoffed at the bits and pieces that did reach the public, sometimes through leaks, other times through reports provided to Congress. Conspiracy theories that made the rounds on the Internet were often based upon kernels of truth, however, by the time the nutbars finished with them, they were mostly hogwash. But those sites so popular with the tinfoil-hat crowd had CIA staff continually monitoring them, searching for that kernel.

And apparently, the woman sitting across from him, Beverly Thorn, had found such a kernel.

Is it credible?

She nodded. I trust the source.

Can you tell me who it is?

She shook her head. It’s best you don’t know until we have the intel.

You realize they’ll kill every one of us if they find out.

I have no doubt.

Morrison chewed his cheek. It would give us tremendous leverage, but using it could be considered an act of war.

She stared at him, her head slowly bobbing. I’ve considered this, which is why I came to you. If we move forward and we’re discovered, it has the potential to end everything.

Morrison tensed, for what she was saying wasn’t hyperbole—this did have the potential of ending everything, if her contact did indeed have the information he claimed. The implications were jaw-dropping, but he questioned whether it could ever be used, for if they acted upon it, it could mean Russia, a nuclear state led by an elected dictator, would be the one most affected.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught one of his security detail pressing his finger against his ear, concern in his eyes. Thorn had said time was too critical for her to travel back home to meet, so he had come to her, much to the annoyance of his security detail.

He activated his comm. Control, this is Viper. Report.

Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux, Control for this mission, immediately replied. Viper, Control Actual. We spotted a vehicle moving into the area at a high rate of speed. It could be nothing, but stand by for possible evacuation, over.

Copy that.

Thorn’s eyes darted to his ear. Problem?

Probably nothing, but get ready, just in case.

She smiled slightly. These old bones are long past the days of running. I’m sure your people can handle any problems.

Morrison frowned. And yet you refuse to retire.

She shrugged. I have too many agents that I am responsible for. They’re like my children. I couldn’t bear to see them handed off to somebody who didn’t know them as well as I do.

He understood. Dealing with life-and-death situations was part of his daily routine. The death of agents wasn’t common. There were only 133 stars on that wall at Langley, but every single one of them was a tragedy.

Viper, Control Actual. The vehicle has turned. False alarm.

Copy that, Control. He smiled at Thorn. Looks like it was nothing.

One of his detail standing in the far corner of the café dropped, then another. A window shattered to his right and he spun to see two more down. He rose and grabbed the edge of the table, tossing it on its side, then grabbed Thorn, pulling her to the floor. He draped himself over her, becoming a human shield as those that remained in his detail shouted around him, making it clear they had no idea from where the shots were coming.

He tapped his earpiece. Control, this is Viper, we’re under attack!

Copy that, Viper. Watchdog is already en route.

Do you have eyes on the shooters?

Negative. We think the shots are coming from across the street.

Morrison checked the room. Six of my detail are down.

We recommend you attempt to escape through the rear entrance, as previously briefed.

Roger that. He turned to Thorn. We’re going to lose this. We’re going out the rear. Are you ready?

She nodded, not a hint of fear in her eyes, and he envied her, as his pulse was racing. It had been a long time since he was in the field, longer still since someone had shot at him, and he wasn’t a fan of it. A hand on his shoulder had him spinning, preparing to defend himself. He relaxed slightly as he recognized one of his detail.

We have to get you out of here, sir!

Two shots slammed into the young man and he dropped, a pool of blood quickly spreading out from his neck. Morrison grabbed the man’s gun then reached into the downed man’s pocket, retrieving two spare magazines. He grabbed Thorn by the wrist. Ready?

Yes.

He rose, pulling her to her feet, and placed a hand on the back of her neck as he guided her toward the rear entrance. The lone remaining member of his detail, his weapon aimed at an unknown enemy, rushed toward him to provide cover.

He dropped silently to the ground.

Viper, Control, we have activity at the front and rear.

Morrison cursed. Copy that. Recommendations?

Sir, your backup is two minutes away. They’re not going to make it in time.

How many hostiles?

Four in the front, two in the rear, approaching rapidly, plus an unknown number in the vehicles that are now arriving at the front.

Morrison glanced over his shoulder and saw two large SUV’s screech to a halt. This is it, he said to Thorn. How do you want this to go down?

She smiled slightly. I’m prepared to die if you are.

He stared at the woman with admiration. You haven’t changed a bit since the day I first met you.

She reached out and patted his cheek. And you’ve become the man I always knew you could be.

Leroux’s voice broke in. Sir, we recommend you lay down your weapons and surrender.

They want us to surrender, relayed Morrison to Thorn.

She shook her head. Under no circumstances can I fall into their hands. Shoot me if you have to.

His stomach flipped. To hell with that. He grabbed her and ran toward the back, preferring to face two hostiles rather than at least six. As he reached the door, he could hear the footfalls of their pursuers. He slammed the door shut behind them then grabbed a broom, sticking it in the handle. They reached the end of the short hall, and as he approached the door, Leroux guided him.

Two hostiles, one standing against the wall to the immediate right of the door, the other across the street at your eleven-o’clock from the door.

Copy that.

Morrison aimed his weapon to the right of the frame, the wall appearing to be wood. He squeezed the trigger twice as Thorn yanked open the door. He came through, firing three rounds, one of them catching the second target.

You’re clear for the moment, sir. Go left. Backup is one minute—sir, you’ve got company behind you!

Morrison spun, emptying his mag, sending their pursuers diving to the ground or retreating within the café. If they could make it to the end of the alley they were in, they might just stand a chance, but Thorn was far too slow, and the pace they were making was barely a jog.

Sir, you’re about to be blocked off.

Morrison’s head spun to the left, searching for any place to escape. He spotted a door and pulled Thorn toward it. He tried the handle but found it locked.

He fired three rounds into the lock then kicked the door open. He pushed Thorn inside and was about to follow her when something that felt like a two-by-four hit him in the back twice. He dropped to the ground and Thorn turned, shocked. She reached out and he shook his head, instead handing her the weapon then the spare magazines.

Run! he yelled before collapsing. As he gasped for breath, praying his vest had stopped both rounds, he activated his comm. ETA on that backup.

Thirty seconds—

He cut Leroux off as heavy footfalls echoed through the alley. Chris, tell my wife and kids that I love them, and that I’m sorry.

Thorn stepped over him and opened fire, her weapon quickly spent. She reloaded, firing several rounds from their last mag as tires squealed at the end of the street, and he prayed it was their backup finally arriving. His eyes widened as a shadow emerged from behind Thorn, from within the building they had sought refuge. He opened his mouth to shout a warning when an arm wrapped around his friend, hauling her into the darkness. She screamed and threw him the weapon. It clattered to the ground, out of reach. He stretched out for it when a boot pressed against his back and two more shots slammed into him, leaving no doubt this time that the vest hadn’t done its job.

As the life drained from him, Thorn shouted something, and he struggled to hear the words.

Red Eagle! Red Eagle!

And as he blacked out, he managed to deliver her final message with his last words. Red Eagle.

Description: Chapter Header

2 |

Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux and his team sat in stunned silence in the aftermath of witnessing the execution of their boss and the slaughter of an entire team of eight. His stomach churned as his pulse pounded in his ears. He had never presided over a mission that had failed this badly before, and had certainly never had so many friendlies die on his watch.

He didn’t know what to do.

Control, Watchdog, we’re taking fire!

Leroux shoved his emotions deep down as reality flooded back. He jumped to his feet and headed for the displays at the front of the room. Sonya Tong, his most senior analyst, had already brought up satellite footage showing the backup team arriving. The vehicle had come to a halt at an angle, gunfire riddling it, the only thing saving them the heavy armor plating. Watchdog, Control. Fall back! I repeat, fall back!

The vehicle’s backup lights lit and then it rapidly reversed, the gunfire they were taking stopping immediately. He spun toward his team in the state-of-the-art operations center at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, and pointed behind him at the displays arcing across the entire front of the room. I want every eye we’ve got on that area. Where did they take her? He turned to the team’s wunderkind, Randy Child. And find out what the hell Red Eagle means.

Yes, sir, murmured Child as he attacked his keyboard.

Leroux faced the room, the tears and the sniffling of the others illustrating the pain they were all going through. People, Thorn might still be alive, and it’s our responsibility to find her. We need to keep focused. We’ll grieve when this op is finished. Understood?

Heads bobbed unconvincingly, so he put them to work.

Notify our Helsinki office to send in a retrieval team for our people. Notify our contact at the embassy so they’re aware of what’s happened. And I want everything we’ve got, tracking those vehicles. He headed for the door.

Where are you going, sir? asked Tong.

I have to go and tell the Director what’s happened. He pressed down on the door handle, the secure facility’s positive air pressure causing a hiss, then pushed the door open.

And his heart leaped into his throat at the sight of two armed guards standing there, blocking his path.

I’m sorry, sir, this room is under lockdown.

Child cursed behind Leroux, then several others did as well. He turned toward his team. What’s the problem?

All of our terminals just shut down! cried Tong, furiously typing away.

What the hell are you talking about? Reboot them!

I’m trying that, sir, replied Child. But it’s a security lockdown!

Leroux spun at the two guards. What the hell is going on? We’re in the middle of an op! People are dying!

I’m sorry, sir, I have my orders. Are you Chris Leroux?

Yes.

The Director has ordered us to take you to her office.

I was just heading there.

The man reached for his arm and Leroux batted it away. I know where the hell it is. Keep your hands off me. He turned to Tong. You’re in charge. Try to get our systems back on line if you’re allowed. Otherwise, I’ll be back as soon as I can. He stepped through the door as four more armed guards arrived, heading inside the operations center, accompanied by a suit. Just what the hell is going on?

But the suit was as helpful as the guards.

Description: Chapter Header

3 |

Director McQuay’s Office, CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Leroux’s heart pounded as he wiped his sweaty palms yet again on his pant legs. He checked his watch and cursed as another intolerable minute passed while he waited outside of the Director of the CIA’s office. He had been in several briefings with Gladys McQuay before, however had never been introduced. After all, he was merely an analyst supervisor with minimal powers outside of an active operation, and this was the head of the entire Central Intelligence Agency.

The phone buzzed on the aide’s desk and she answered it. Yes, ma’am. She hung up the phone then nodded toward the door. Director McQuay will see you now, Mr. Leroux.

Leroux rose, heading inside, the guards that had accompanied him standing on either side of the door. A warm smile greeted him.

Mr. Leroux, good to see you again. I know we haven’t been formally introduced, and I wish it were under better circumstances, but I hear nothing but good things about you and your team from Leif.

Yes, ma’am. Umm, about that. I have to ask that you lift the lockdown on my team.

And why is that?

Because we’re in the middle of an op and the Chief has just been shot four times. If I don’t get my team off lockdown, he’s dead and so is Thorn.

She sat in a comfortable chair in one corner of the room, and indicated for Leroux to sit opposite her, showing no sense of urgency. Leroux sat, confused.

From my understanding, Leif is dead, so is his entire security detail, and Thorn is either dead or lost.

I’m not willing to write the Chief off just yet, and we can still track Thorn.

I doubt that, not for long, anyway. You’ll agree with me once you hear what I have to say.

So, we’re just going to leave him there?

Not at all. I’ve already ordered teams into the area to recover our personnel, and we will, of course, be tracking the hostiles as long as we can, but I doubt that will be for more than a few minutes.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Ma’am, what the hell is going on? Why have we been locked down?

Red Eagle.

Leroux stared at her. What about it?

What do you know about it?

Nothing. The first time I ever heard those two words put together was over the comm, when the Chief said it just after he was shot.

So, you know nothing?

Nothing at all.

And what about your team member, this Randy Child, who began a search on it?

He did that under my orders. His eyes narrowed. That’s what this is all about it, isn’t it? This Red Eagle reference?

Yes.

Ma’am, as many as ten people are dead today on my watch, and it must have to do with this Red Eagle, whatever the hell that is. Are you going to tell me?

She leaned closer. How familiar are you with Bev Thorn’s history?

He shrugged. I’ve dealt with her in my new position, but I can’t say I know much about her. Her file is need-to-know, and I’ve never needed to know.

I’m going to give you access to her file. When you leave here, I want you to thoroughly familiarize yourself with it.

Yes, ma’am, but can I get the executive summary so I can return to work?

Let’s just say she’s one of our most experienced assets. She was recruited straight out of college and became an agent. Her mother was Russian, so she spoke the language fluently. Her career started during the Cold War, so needless to say, she was assigned to the Soviet Union. Her specialty was dealing with black market goods. And I don’t mean an extra bag of rice, I mean luxury goods that senior members of the Communist Party desired. It gave her leverage over them, gave her access to the parties and social events, and allowed her to plant seeds that sometimes led to defections and double agents. Red Eagle is one of those double agents.

Leroux’s eyes shot wide. But the Soviet Union has been defunct for almost thirty years. Why would a double agent from a country that no longer exists be involved in what happened today?

Yesterday, she contacted your chief, indicating she had urgent intel that he needed to be made aware of, intel that was so time-critical and so sensitive, the Chief had to go to her, because once her mission was approved, there would be no time for a return flight.

Do we know what this intel is?

McQuay shook her head. No. All I do know is that everything I’ve been told about her is that she doesn’t get this excited about anything. For her to insist on an immediate meeting with the Chief is completely out of character, and until your team searched the term ‘Red Eagle,’ we had no idea what was going on. We need to find Thorn, find out what this intel is that involves Red Eagle, and take down whoever massacred our people. What happened can’t be allowed to stand. A message needs to be sent that if you kill Americans, you will die, otherwise it will be open season on us.

We don’t even know if Thorn is alive.

McQuay tapped her ear, indicating she had a comm inserted. The moment we shut your team down, another took over. They’ve been providing me with updates. She was put into a vehicle alive. Unfortunately, we’ve already lost them, as I predicted.

"Ma’am, you need to let my team back on this. Those people were lost on my watch. Give me a chance to make