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was taken by a party or parties unknown, and thus far no ransom demand has been made. The Russian government has attempted to keep his disappearance a secret, but it was hardly possible given that he disappeared shortly after arriving in Minsk and the grabbers left the bodies of four FSB agents behind.”

      Phoenix Force’s team leader, David McCarter, cleared his throat and asked, “Do we know why he was in Minsk?”

      Price shook her head. “We don’t have any positive proof but we believe he may have been there to oversee the test demonstration of some prototype weaponry he designed.”

      Calvin James let out a low whistle. “Funny they’d think testing weapons of that size in a foreign territory would be something they could keep a lid on.”

      “Well, the buzz running through the highest channels at both the CIA and NSA would indicate they weren’t testing high-energy weapons,” Price replied.

      “Wait a minute,” Gary Manning interjected. “Are you saying Dratshev has come up with a design for EMP application using small arms?”

      “It would seem so,” Price replied.

      Each of the Phoenix Force members muttered curses under their breath and an icy tension settled on all present.

      “That’s unthinkable,” Rafael Encizo said. A Cuban native and one of the original Phoenix Force veterans, Encizo was the team’s resident specialist in maritime operations and an expert knife fighter.

      “As far as we know,” Price said, “the capabilities of EMP in small arms are still little more than an untested theory. But we do think that given how long Dratshev’s been working on the project, coupled with the Russian government’s continued financing of his research, those capabilities are a very real possibility.”

      “Excuse me,” Thomas Jackson Hawkins said, raising a hand in automatic reflex.

      “T.J.?” Price acknowledged with a nod.

      “I was under the impression EMP was still somewhat poorly understood. At least from the perspective of safe weaponization.”

      “I think Bear could give us a more expert opinion on that concept,” Brognola said. “Aaron?”

      The other man in the room differed more than the rest in just the fact that he was confined to a wheelchair. By any standards Aaron Kurtzman had an IQ nearly off the charts and the uncanny ability to collect, sort and manipulate copious amounts of electronic data into logical chunks of intelligence. Those talents, coupled with his leadership of all of Stony Man’s computer-based operations, had saved the lives of every field team member on occasions almost too numerous to quantify.

      Kurtzman grinned, happy as always to be in his element. “From the standpoint of physics, electromagnetics is a relatively simple principle to grasp. Think about the Earth. Surrounding our atmosphere is an electromagnetic field, which is generated by the Earth’s core of molten metal spinning at thousands of miles per hour. At least that’s the generally accepted scientific axiom.

      “That field helps contain our air and moisture, but more importantly it protects us from the cosmic radiation generated by the sun. Now suppose that you could harness such a field on a microcosmic level and confine it into a narrow beam, a particle beam of sorts. By creating the initial energy and then liberating said energy, a pulse is formed that has all the magnetic force behind it with one distinct difference—it can be focused at a single point.”

      “Sounds more like you’re talking about a laser,” McCarter remarked. The fox-faced Briton furrowed his brow. “Is there a difference?”

      “Big difference,” Kurtzman replied. “A laser beam has to be intensely focused and remain constant to weaponize it. This requires an intense amount of sustained energy. That’s where we draw the line between science and science fiction. But with an EMP, the energy is already contained within the pulse. It then becomes merely a matter of focusing it.”

      “But wouldn’t the same principle apply?” James asked. “I mean…wouldn’t it take as much energy to build up an electromagnetic charge as a laser beam?”

      Kurtzman shook his head. “Not according to what Dr. Dratshev’s many years of research has revealed. Somehow, Dratshev has discovered a way to generate that energy at the atomic or even subatomic level.”

      “Or at least that’s what our intelligence agencies have surmised,” Price said.

      “Unfortunately we don’t have the time to give you a full physics lesson right now,” Brognola cut in. “The important thing to know is that Dratshev has found some way of doing it, and now he’s fallen into the hands of someone willing to go to great lengths to possess that knowledge. Someone we deem to be extremely dangerous.”

      “But how can we know they’re dangerous with any certainty?” Hawkins asked.

      It was Gary Manning, former member of the RCMP and a self-taught expert on nearly every terrorist organization in the world, who answered. “Because anyone bold enough to go up against the Russian government and, in particular the FSB, is just plain crazy.”

      “Or fanatical, at least,” McCarter added.

      “In any case,” Price said, “we have to assume the worst. Dratshev’s abduction must be deemed a direct threat against the United States and her allies until otherwise verified. That’s why we’ve activated Phoenix Force.”

      “And Able Team,” Brognola added.

      “We’re going to work together on this one?” James inquired.

      “Not exactly,” Price said. “Not too long after we received the news of Dratshev’s disappearance, an incident occurred at a U.S. Department of Agriculture research facility in a rural area north of Des Moines, Iowa.”

      “Uh-oh,” McCarter said. “If memory serves, Barb, isn’t that—?”

      “Yes, it’s a data backup warehouse for a special sector of international satellite operations overseen by the NSA.”

      James looked at McCarter in amazement. “How the hell did you know that?”

      McCarter shrugged. “I read the classified CERN bulletins.”

      Hawkins chuckled. “The European Organization for Nuclear Research bulletins? What a nerd.”

      “Don’t forget mission controller’s pet,” Encizo added.

      “Moving right along to the incident?” Brognola prompted

      “Go ahead, Barb,” Manning said. “I’m listening.”

      Price smiled. “An armed force of about a dozen men breached the USDA facility and was engaged by security personnel. A number of men were killed on both sides, and about half of this mysterious team managed to escape. Unfortunately there were no survivors to question.”

      “Any idea who they were working for?” James asked.

      “No,” Price said, shaking her head. “All of the deceased were American citizens with military experience, however. So we’re thinking some sort of mercenary group.”

      Brognola said, “The NSA apparently got wind something like this might take place and so they beefed up security just in case there was something to it. Turns out they were right.”

      “Then they must have some idea what this team was after,” McCarter said. “Breaking into a bloody NSA data facility is a risky op. The stakes had to be high.”

      “We won’t know for sure until Able Team can get there and start an investigation of its own,” Price replied. “What’s interesting about this attack, though, is that the particular data sets stored there by the NSA include covert operations in Belarus and a number of surrounding countries.”

      “Which is where Dratshev disappeared,” Hawkins concluded.

      “Right,” Brognola said.

      Price

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