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Editorial Reviews

About the Author

Since the publication of "The Hunt for Red October", Tom Clancy established an unrivalled position as the world's leading thriller writer, with a string of million-selling novels and three major Hollywood films to his name. He was also the author of "SSN" and the non-fiction books "Submarine, Armoured Warfare, Fighter Wing and Marine", and the co-creator of the Op-Centre series.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

 

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

 

EPILOGUE

THE BESTSELLING NOVELS OF

TOM CLANCY

THE TEETH OF THE TIGER
A new generation—Jack Ryan, Jr.—takes over in Tom Clancy’s
extraordinary, and extraordinarily prescient, novel.

“INCREDIBLY ADDICTIVE.” —Daily Mail (London)

 

 

RED RABBIT

Tom Clancy returns to Jack Ryan’s early days—
in an engrossing novel of global political drama . . .

“A WILD, SATISFYING RIDE.” —New York Daily News

 

 

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

 

 

RAINBOW SIX
John Clark is used to doing the CIA’s dirty work.
Now he’s taking on the world . . .

“ACTION-PACKED.” —The New York Times Book Review

 

 

EXECUTIVE ORDERS
A devastating terrorist act leaves Jack Ryan
as President of the United States . . .

“UNDOUBTEDLY CLANCY’S BEST YET.”

—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

 

DEBT OF HONOR
It begins with the murder of an American woman
in the backstreets of Tokyo. It ends in war . . .

“A SHOCKER.” —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
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
RED RABBIT
THE TEETH OF THE TIGER

 

 

SSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE

 

 

 

 

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, Jr., Ret., and Tony Koltz)

EVERY MAN A TIGER
(written with General Charles Horner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

SHADOW WARRIORS: INSIDE THE SPECIAL FORCES
(written with General Carl Stiner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

BATTLE READY
(written with General Tony Zinni, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

Created by Tom Clancy
TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL
TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL: OPERATION BARRACUDA
TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL: CHECKMATE
TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL: FALLOUT

 

 

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-CENTER: DIVIDE AND CONQUER
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: LINE OF CONTROL
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MISSION OF HONOR
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: SEA OF FIRE
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: CALL TO TREASON
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: WAR OF EAGLES

 

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
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: STATE OF WAR
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CHANGING OF THE GUARD
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: SPRINGBOARD
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: THE ARCHIMEDES EFFECT

 

 

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
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: COLD WAR
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: CUTTING EDGE
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: ZERO HOUR
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: WILD CARD

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,
South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL®: FALLOUT

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with Rubicon, Inc.

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley edition / November 2007

 

Copyright © 2007 by Rubicon, Inc.

 

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-00375-6

 

BERKLEY®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

To all the loyal “Fisherists” skulking about out there.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

While I’ve said it before, it bears repeating: The author is but the “face” of a book. The heart, muscles, and oftentimes the brains of a book work behind the scenes, unseen, and too often unacknowledged.

 

Thanks to the following for helping make Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell: Fallout the great book it is:

 

 

Tom Colgan, Sandy Harding, and everyone else at The Berkley Publishing Group. Thanks for making me look good.

 

Michael Ovitz and Chris George. Thanks for your confidence.

 

 

From Ubisoft: Joshua Meyer, Richard Dansky, Alexis Nolent, Olivier Henriot, Ubisoft Legal Department, and everyone else who has a hand in producing Splinter Cell. (All of whom I forgot to recognize in the last book. My apologies.)

 

 

Pam Ahearn. Thanks for your support and dedication. You’re the best, Pam.

 

 

Tom Clancy, without whom Splinter Cell wouldn’t exist.

 

And, of course, my wife. I’m glad you’re in my life.

1

2008—SAN FRANCISCO

FISHER knew he was being followed. He knew it by the obvious signs, of course, but he also felt it in his gut. What he didn’t know was how many there were and when they would make their move. He’d already picked up the package right under their noses, so they certainly weren’t going to let him reach the drop-off. But how close would they let him get?

He stopped before the window of a watch shop and stood admiring the newest Tissots on display. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man he’d named Tail 6.1 (one watcher on his six o’clock position) also stop before a window to study the merchandise. The man was good; as Fisher watched, the man pulled out his cell phone, dialed, then said after a moment, “No, I’m looking at it right now . . . yeah, the exact one you’ve been looking for . . .”

A good tail personalizes his or her cover, Fisher reminded himself. Without that, a watcher tends to carry a “pursuit aura” that anyone with even the most rudimentary countersurveillance training would pick up on.

“. . . no, the one on Franklin Street . . . right. Okay, bye.”

Walking fifty feet behind Tail 6.1, Tail 6.2.2 (two watchers together, a man and woman walking arm in arm, second position behind the first tail), passed their compatriot at the shop window and kept walking, passing Fisher a few seconds later and continuing down the sidewalk. Fisher mentally switched their designation to Tail 12.2—they were now in the lead tail position.

He’d been keeping this imaginary clock face in his head for the past two hours, moving the various pawns around as they changed positions and proximity to him. They were all very good, moving seamlessly as they kept a blanket of surveillance over him, all the while changing clothes and partners and demeanors in hopes of remaining invisible to him. It hadn’t worked, but neither had he been able to lose them with the routine dry-cleaning tactics. The other factor: Did they know he’d made them? Probably not; if they did, they would’ve already taken him.

It would have been ridiculous—all these do-they-know-I-know machinations—if it hadn’t been so deadly serious. They’d already come close to catching him in the act two weeks earlier; if it happened this time, he was done.

Fisher checked his watch. Another ten minutes was all he needed.

Ten minutes and one last attempt to lose them.

He turned from the shop window and continued down the sidewalk, but at a slower pace, letting the couple ahead of him gain some distance. The sidewalk and streets were moist with fog from the bay, and the mist swirled around the streetlights, rainbow-hued halos that seemed to shift and pulse as Fisher’s path took him closer or farther from each one. In the distance he could hear the mournful gong of navigation buoys.

Ahead he could see the entrance to the alley, a darkened rectangle between two buildings. He’d chosen it the night before for a number of reasons: It sat equidistant between two streetlamps; its end was blocked by a tall hurricane fence topped with barbed wire; and, if he timed it correctly, his lead tails would round the corner ahead before he reached the alley entrance. And, once inside, to keep him in sight, one or more of the watchers would have to follow him in—probably the lone man on his tail. So, ten seconds for him to reach the entrance, thirty more waiting to see if his target reemerged, Fisher thought. With luck, he’d have forty seconds to do what he needed to do.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the couple ahead and his ears tuned to the click of heels on the sidewalk behind him, Fisher adjusted his pace, waiting, waiting . . . The couple ahead rounded the corner. Fisher drew even with the alley’s entrance and continued for three more paces, then abruptly wheeled left and strode into the shadowed alley. Feeling the darkness envelop him, Fisher felt a wave of relief. For most of his career, he’d worked strictly in the shadows, and he’d come to think of them as his closest ally. Conversely, this cloak-and-dagger business was done mostly in plain sight. It was a different kind of game altogether. It had taken some getting used to.

On flat feet he sprinted halfway down the alley until he reached the darkened doorway to his left, then ducked into it. Just as he’d left it, the tin garbage can lid was propped against the brick wall. He snatched it up, tucked it between his legs, then reached above his head and snagged the lowermost rung of the building’s fire escape. He chinned himself onto the grated catwalk above and then crab-walked to the right until he reached the first stairway and started upward. At the next landing, he grasped the garbage can lid like a Frisbee in his right hand, leaned over the railing, took aim, and hurled the lid. It sailed true, arcing down the alley. It slammed into the hurricane fence at the far end, bounced off the fencing with a twanging rattle, and crashed into the garbage cans against the wall.

Fisher was already moving, bounding silently up the fire escape ladder two steps at a time. He stopped, pressed his body against the wall, and listened. Below him he could hear heels clicking in the alley. He looked down. His lone tail, having heard the commotion, recognizing it for what it was, and assuming his target was making a run for it, had taken the bait.

The final piece of Fisher’s ploy—a homeless man he’d paid $100 to wait in the alley on the other side of the fence until he got his cue—now played his part and shuffled down the alley toward its opposite entrance.

Fisher heard a muttered “Damn,” then saw his tail lift his jacket cuff to his lips: “Target on run . . . heading east toward Auburn . . .” The tail turned and sprinted from the alley.

Attaboy, Fisher thought and started a new timer in his head. Two minutes. No more.

Ten seconds after the tail disappeared around the corner, a blue van with a red and yellow Johnson & Sons Plumbing placard on its side raced past the alley’s entrance and squealed around the corner. Fisher gave the van five more seconds, waiting until he no longer heard the engine, then climbed the final few steps to the fire escape’s uppermost platform, then boosted himself onto the roof. It was gravel-covered, flat, and mostly featureless save for a few rusted ventilation chimneys and a lone, phone booth-sized access door in its center. In the distance he could see the twinkling lights of San Francisco’s business district and beyond that, the navigation lights of cargo ships moving in the harbor.

Careful to not disturb the gravel, Fisher walked west across the roof, paralleling the sidewalk below until he reached the far edge. As had been the garbage can lid, the aluminum maintenance ladder he’d found here the day before was still in place, lying on its side, tucked against the eaves trough. Quietly he picked up the ladder and, holding it vertically before him, braced the clawed feet on the eaves, then grasped the pulley rope and began extending the ladder upward.

The rung supports clanged against the ladder’s aluminum braces, echoing through the alley and the street below. Fisher winced inwardly but kept pulling. There was nothing to be done about the noise; it was necessary. Once the ladder had reached its full height, Fisher leaned backward for leverage and began lowering it across the gap to the next building. As the ladder passed the forty-five-degree angle, gravity took hold. Fisher strained to keep the ladder’s twenty-four-foot length steady. Hand over hand, inches at a time, he continued until finally the aluminum supports banged against the opposite roof.

To his north he heard the squealing of tires followed by echoed shouts: “Stop right there! Don’t move, don’t move . . .”

Then silence. Thirty seconds passed. An engine revved again. Tires squealed.

Fisher allowed himself another smile. They’re on to you, Sam.

Another half minute passed, and then Fisher heard what he assumed was the plumbing van race around the corner and slide to a stop before his escape alley. Fisher bent over, lifted the end of the ladder, and let it drop with a clang back onto the eaves. He then turned on his heel, walked to the roof’s access door, and opened it an inch, leaving it ajar. Finally, he walked to the northern edge of the roof and dropped onto the fire escape below. As he reached the third-floor landing, he heard the rapid crunch of footsteps on the roof gravel.

“Here, here . . . that ladder . . .” a voice called.

Then a second voice: “Got an open door here . . .”

The crackle of radio static, then a third voice: “Units . . . command . . . regroup, back to the street . . .”

Fisher waited until he heard the footsteps running back over the gravel, then braced himself against the brick wall, took two quick steps, and leaped across the gap to the opposite building’s balcony. He crouched down, slid open the window, crawled through into the empty apartment, and closed the window behind him.

Two minutes later he was out the building’s front door and headed north.

 

 

 

HALF an hour later, he was sitting on a bench in Embarcadero Plaza overlooking the bay, eating a chunk of sour-dough bread, and sipping coffee when the Johnson & Sons Plumbing van pulled to a stop at the curb. The side door slid open, revealing four shadowed figures and a bank of monitors and communications equipment. A figure climbed down from the van, walked to Fisher, and stopped before him.

The woman Fisher knew as Jackie Fiest was wearing a blue sweatshirt embossed with a circa 1960s red female symbol. She smiled ruefully at him and shook her head. “You’re an SOB, Fisher.”

Fisher smiled back. “I assume that means I passed?”

“Passed? Sweetie, you just got done running a dozen of my best watchers in circles for the past two hours. What d’you think? Come on, get in, let’s debrief.”

2

ALATAU MOUNTAINS, KYRGYZSTAN-KAZAKHSTAN BORDER

THE warlords and their troops had been instructed to assemble in full battle gear shortly before dusk in the camp, a narrow mountain canyon surrounded by craggy, snowcapped peaks. Straddling the border as it did, the camp had for the last two years been the main headquarters for the resistance fighters. The puppet government in Bishkek had neither the resources nor the stomach to venture into the mountains and had resigned itself to trying to block the various passes the resistance fighters used to sneak into the lowlands and wreak their havoc.

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Product Details

  • Series: Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell (Book 4)
  • Paperback: 368 pages
  • Publisher: Berkley; First Printing edition (November 6, 2007)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0425218244
  • ISBN-13: 978-0425218242
  • Product Dimensions: 4.2 x 1.9 x 7.6 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 12.8 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
  • Average Customer Review: 4.1 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (63 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #304,678 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Customer Reviews

Top Customer Reviews

By M. H. Dulas on December 11, 2007
Format: Paperback
This is a good addition to the series. It is well written and action packed. The climax is great and keeps you guessing right up until the last page.

We get more insight into Fisher as a person and his past. It has plenty of nods to the games, which makes it easy to picture. Hopefully this will be followed by more action-packed espisodes.

Updated 1/28/2008

There are some things that need to be cleared up about this book immediately. First, echoing other reviews, this was not written by the same author as Splinter Cell and Op. Barracuda, so anyone whining about continuity should read the proverbial fine print. "It seemed like it was written by a totally different person." Congraulations, Sherlock. It was!

Second, in any mass market paperback, there will be some typos or math errors (i.e. size of mansion/land). He is an author, not a mathmatician and it they weren't so glaring that a simple "Oh, he must have meant 30,000" pause wouldn't fix that mental picture. I've read the book twice because the story is quite good and very topical in the world today, and honestly, I didn't even notice. This book was very enjoyable and taken as the mass market thriller and not as the next great American novel, it is a good read. If you can't get past errors, this is not a book for you
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Format: Paperback
First of all, I find it very sad that some people don't do their homework before writing a review.

The fact that someone who claims to be a "fan" of "David Michaels" is hilarious since "David Michaels" is a pseudonym. It's also sad that someone would give a book as good as this a bad review for differing styles between the books when they were written by different people.

Get a clue, please.

I want to start by giving this David large amount of credit for being interactive with the Splinter Cell fan community. Three characters, Robert Robertson, Aly Wallace and Jackie Fiest are all named after real Splinter Cell fans. Very few authors are that interactive with their readers and "David" should be commended.

Second of all, the books situation with oil is something I have yet seen done in any entertainment medium. While I don't read a lot of military fiction, this is the first time I've seen that and enjoyed the idea. I don't know if something of that nature really exists, but if it did it would surely cause a world wide panic, especially if it ended up in the wrong hands. "David" did a good job of telling an exciting story and bringing back Sam's sense of humor and wit that has made him the fascinating character that he is.

Good work, Sir.
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By Gambit0084 on November 27, 2007
Format: Paperback
Let me clarify that the Splinter Cell books are not written by Tom Clancy, they are just an idea of his.

Be careful, spoilers are listed.

This book was well written in my opinion and the author of the book portrayed Sam Fisher's personality well. The book starts out with Sam being tested for a new type of spy work, one that would put him out in the open, in daylight. Of course Sam passes the training phase with flying colors. Shortly after his graduation he finds out that his brother has contracted a deadly chemical, from which there is no cure. Sam's brother dies within days of being exposed to the deadly chemical.

With Sam's brother dying at the hands of a very rare and very deadly chemical, the development of this chemical has just become very personal to him. He, Sam, sets out to find who developed the new chemical and for what. During his search for the chemical he comes across a much larger scheme. He, Sam, discovers that the chemical allows a fungas to enhance its ability to absorb the minerals around it, rendering them useless. Sam finds out that this fungas is soon to be released on a large portion of the worlds oil supply.
The production of the new chemical, and its potential enhancement of a particular fungas can send the planet back to the dark ages within just a few weeks time.
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Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
I liked Sam Fisher (main character) better in this book. He is always cunning, skilled and confident. Usually confident to the point of seeming arrogant. This time Sam Fisher isn't perfect. He still does an outstanding job, but miscalculated a few times showing he is not superhuman. This book has a lot of unusual interesting historical details. Also a mix of physics, chemistry and biology in the makeup of the enemy's weapon of destruction. I enjoyed traveling with Sam Fisher on his missions.
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Another super read of splinter cell series. I have found it helpful to read them in order of publication. Always a fast moving, riveting, plot twisting story with character Sam Fisher. Always ends with mission completed. This one was a page turner and the only thing different in this one is that at the end of each chapter it ends abruptly and the next chapter reverts back to what happened. Only one in the series I have seen do this. I was not happy with that part but I am ordering the next book now.
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Entertaining read and worth the time/money. The only thing is that there are a LOT of typos as has been the case in the Previous books by this author. With that said, still a good Splinter Cell read....
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