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Kerosene, he said. The fire chief was staring at the ruins, a puzzled expression on his face. Stanton Rogers was destined to be President of the United States. He was a charismatic politician, highly visible to an approving public, and backed by powerful friends.

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I speak today not only to our allies, but to those countries in the Soviet camp. I say to them now, as we prepare to move into the twenty-first century, that there is no longer any room for confrontation and that we must learn to make the phrase one world become a reality. Any other course can only create a holocaust from which no nation would ever recover.

I am well aware of the vast chasms that lie between us and the iron curtain countries, but the first priority of this administration will be to build unshakable bridges across those chasms. His words rang out with a deep, heartfelt sincerity. He means it, Ben Cohn thought. I hope no one assassinates the bastard. In Junction City, Kansas, it was a potbellied stove kind of day, bleak and raw, and snowing so hard that the visibility on Highway 6 was almost zero.

Mary Ashley cautiously steered her old station wagon toward the center of the highway, where the snowplows had been at work.

The storm was going to make her late for the class she was teaching. She drove slowly, careful not to let the car go into a skid. My answer to that is that we can no longer afford to condemn ourselves or our children to a future threatened by global confrontations, and nuclear war.

Paul Ellison is going to make a great President. In St. Croix, a tropical sun was shining in a cloudless, azure sky, but Harry Lantz had no intention of going outside. He was having too much fun indoors. He was in bed, naked, sandwiched between the Dolly sisters. Lantz had empirical evidence that they were not truly sisters. Annette was a tall natural brunette, and Sally was a tall natural blonde.

Not that Harry Lantz gave a damn whether they were blood relatives. What was important was that they were both expert at what they did, and what they were doing made Lantz groan aloud with pleasure. I want to inform you now that we have approached the government of Romania and its President, Alexandras Ionescu, and he has agreed to reestablish diplomatic relations with our country.

Jesus Christ! Lantz screamed. What the fuck are you trying to do? One of our first official acts, the President was saying, will be to send an ambassador to Romania. And that is merely the beginning….

In Bucharest, it was evening. The winter weather had turned unexpectedly mild and the streets of the late marketplaces were crowded with citizens lined up to shop in the unseasonably warm weather. Romanian President Alexandras Ionescu sat in his office in Peles, the old palace, on Calea Victoriei, surrounded by half a dozen aides, listening to the broadcast on a shortwave radio.

Albania broke off all diplomatic relations with the United States in I intend to reestablish those ties. In addition, I intend to strengthen our diplomatic relations with Bulgaria, with Czechoslovakia, and with East Germany. Sending our ambassador to Romania is the beginning of a worldwide people-to-people movement. Let us never forget that all mankind shares a common origin, common problems, and a common ultimate fate.

Let us remember that the problems we share are greater than the problems that divide us, and that what divides us is of our own making. In a heavily guarded villa in Neuilly, a suburb of Paris, the Romanian revolutionary leader, Marin Groza, was watching the President on Chaine 2 Television.

Marin Groza shook his head. Ionescu is a tyrant, so in the end, nothing will help him. But I must be very careful with my timing. I must not fail again. Pete Connors was not drunk—not as drunk as he intended to get. He smiled and slapped her. You gotta show some respect. He turned to look at the image on the television set.

You communist son of a bitch, he yelled at the screen. You can bet your ass on it. They were seated in the Oval Office, the President at his desk with the American flag behind him. It was their first meeting together in this office, and President Ellison was uncomfortable. As though reading his mind, Stanton Rogers said, "I have a confession to make. The day you were nominated for the presidency, I was as jealous as hell, Paul.

It was my dream, and you were living it. But do you know something? That chair suits you. Paul Ellison smiled at his friend and said, To tell you the truth, Stan, this room scares the hell out of me. I feel the ghosts of Washington and Lincoln and Jefferson. He pressed the button on his desk, and seconds later a white-jacketed steward came into the room.

She had surprised everyone. The gossip around Washington was that the marriage would not last out the first year. But it had been almost fifteen years now, and it was a success. Stanton Rogers had built up a prestigious law practice in Washington, and Barbara had earned the reputation of being a gracious hostess. Paul Ellison rose and began to pace. My people-to-people speech seems to have caused quite an uproar.

Stanton Rogers shrugged. You know how they are. They love to build up heroes so they can knock them down. The armed forces are against your plan, and some powerful movers and shakers would like to see it fail. He leaned back in his chair. Do you know the biggest problem with the world today?

There are no more statesmen. Countries are being run by politicians. There was a time not too long ago when this earth was peopled with giants. Some were good, and some were evil—but, by God, they were giants. Why did they all live at that one particular time? The steward appeared, bearing a silver tray with a pot of coffee and two cups, each imprinted with the presidential seal.

He skillfully poured the coffee. Can I get you something else, Mr. The President waited until the steward had gone.

I want to talk to you about finding the right ambassador to Romania. I want you to move on it as quickly as possible. Stanton Rogers took a sip of his coffee and rose to his feet. In the little suburb of Neuilly, it was two A. The streets were hushed at this hour, with only the sound of an occasional passerby rippling the silence.

A black-clad figure moved noiselessly through the trees toward the brick wall that surrounded the villa. Over one shoulder he carried a rope and a blanket, and in his arms was cradled an Uzi with a silencer and a dart gun. When he reached the wall, he stopped and listened.

He waited, motionless, for five minutes. Finally, satisfied, he uncoiled the nylon rope and tossed the scaling hook attached to the end of it upward until it caught on the far edge of the wall. Swiftly, the man began to climb.

When he reached the top of the wall, he flung the blanket across it to protect himself against the poison-tipped metal spikes embedded on top. He stopped again to listen. He reversed the hook, shifting the rope to the inside of the wall, and slid down onto the grounds.

He checked the balisong at his waist, the deadly Filipino folding knife that could be flicked open or closed with one hand. The attack dogs would be next.

The intruder crouched there, waiting for them to pick up his scent. There were three Dobermans, trained to kill. But they were only the first obstacle. The grounds and the villa were filled with electronic devices, and continuously monitored by television cameras.

All mail and packages were received at the gatehouse and opened there by the guards. The doors of the villa were bombproof. The villa had its own water supply, and Marin Groza had a food taster. The villa was impregnable. The figure in black was here this night to prove that it was not. He heard the sounds of the dogs rushing at him before he saw them.

They came flying out of the darkness, charging at his throat. There were two of them. He aimed the dart gun and shot the nearest one on his left first, and then the one on his right, dodging out of the way of their hurtling bodies.

He spun around, alert for the third dog, and when it came, he fired again, and then there was only stillness. The intruder knew where the sonic traps were buried in the ground, and he skirted them. He silently glided through the areas of the grounds that the television cameras did not cover, and in less than two minutes after he had gone over the wall, he was at the back door of the villa.

As he reached for the handle of the door, he was caught in the sudden glare of floodlights. A voice called out, Freeze! Drop your gun and raise your hands. The figure in black carefully dropped his gun and looked up. There were half a dozen men spread out on the roof, with a variety of weapons pointed at him. The man in black growled, What the fuck took you so long? I never should have gotten this far. We started tracking you before you got over the wall. Lev Pasternak was not mollified.

Then you should have stopped me sooner. I could have been on a suicide mission with a load of grenades or a goddamn mortar. The dogs have been stunned.

Have someone keep an eye on them until they wake up. Lev Pasternak prided himself on being the best security guard in the world. He would never forget the morning, two years earlier, when his colonel had called him into his office. Mossad had a complete file on the Romanian dissident.

Groza had been the leader of a popular Romanian movement to depose Alexandros Ionescu and was about to stage a coup when he was betrayed by one of his men. More than two dozen underground fighters had been executed, and Groza had barely escaped the country with his life.

France had given him sanctuary. Ionescu denounced Marin Groza as a traitor to his country and put a price on his head. So far half a dozen attempts to assassinate Groza had failed, but he had been wounded in the latest attack. Not good enough. He needs someone to set up a foolproof security system. He came to us. I recommended you. Our information is that he has enough popular support in his home country to knock over Ionescu. Meanwhile, we have to keep the man alive. The colonel had been wrong about the time, but he had been right about Marin Groza.

He was a thin, fragile-looking man with an ascetic air about him and a face etched with sorrow. He had an aquiline nose, a firm chin, and a broad forehead, topped by a spray of white hair.

He had deep black eyes, and when he spoke, they blazed with passion. I have to stay alive for another year or two. He ran his hand absently across a livid scar on his cheek.

No man has the right to enslave a country. We have to free Romania and let the people decide their own fate. Lev Pasternak went to work on the security system at the villa in Neuilly. He used some of his own men, and the outsiders he hired were checked out thoroughly.

Every single piece of equipment was state of the art. Pasternak saw the Romanian rebel leader every day, and the more time he spent with him, the more he came to admire him. When Marin Groza asked Pasternak to stay on as his security chief, Pasternak did not hesitate. Then I will return to Israel. At irregular intervals, Pasternak staged surprise attacks on the villa, testing its security.

Now, he thought: Some of the guards are getting careless. He walked through the hallways, carefully checking the heat sensors, the electronic warning systems, and the infrared beams at the sill of each door. At the approach road to the agency is a flashing red beacon on top of a gate.

The gatehouse is guarded twenty-four hours a day, and authorized visitors are issued colored badges giving them access only to the particular department with which they have business. Outside the gray seven-level headquarters building, whimsically called the Toy Factory, is a large statue of Nathan Hale. Inside, on the ground floor, a glass corridor wall faces an inner courtyard with a landscaped garden dotted with magnolia trees.

Above the reception desk a verse is carved in marble:. Learn more about membership. Buy with 1-Click. Buy now with 1-Click. Please see our Privacy Notice. Sold and delivered by Audible, an Amazon company. Most Popular. Page 1 of 1 Start Again Page 1 of 1. Audible Audiobook. Customer reviews. How customer reviews and ratings work Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings, help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.

Learn more how customers reviews work on Amazon. Top reviews Most recent Top reviews. Top reviews from United Kingdom. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Verified Purchase. I love Sidney Sheldon and this is just one of many great reads. The storylines are wonderful, the characters defined and the writing flows.

What more can I say? I recommend this. The characters. A thrilling book, very fast paced and exciting. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs. Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses. Metropolitan Museum Cleveland Museum of Art. Internet Arcade Console Living Room.

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