Rafael_Zimichut

Gregory Evans is called to investigate a terrorist attack and discovers that a radical Islamic group has been recruiting young people to carry out attacks in various locations in New York and there is only one person who can help him in the investigation, an enemy from the past.

In a journey marked by deaths and secrets hidden in political relations, Gregory Evans finds clues that will bring him face to face with a shocking revelation and the astonishing truth that we have ignored for so long.

Racing against time, Gregory Evans and the Italian mafia enter into a frantic hunt for religious and political assassins, and unravel enigmas, following a trail that may lead to the secret lair where lies the only hope of saving New York City, before it collapses.

THE SECRET PACT

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when Martin finally regained consciousness. Still weak and suffering from many pains and injuries, he was unable to get up. The shrapnel from the confrontation hours before had caused many cuts and small wounds on his face and arms, but the wound in his stomach was still the most serious. He could only look at Carl Benedetti and Brad Clooney lying on the bed in that strange room.

— This one is really hard to kill! — said Clooney good-naturedly.

— I think he has good friends... — said Carl Benedetti with his hoarse voice, also joking.

Martin tried to speak, but something seemed to be stopping him. His cracked and sore lips moved, but no voice came out. His two companions tried to read what he was saying, but they could not understand his lips, confused as they tried to translate what he said. After countless attempts, he finally managed to make a noise:

Clooney got him some water which he drank slowly, pausing to take a breath.

— Don't let him drink too much — Dr. Robinson interrupted them, seeing that he had woken up. — The anesthetic I used causes severe nausea. I don't want any more dirt around here...

— Don't try too hard, boy. — Benedetti said, watching him.

— I... — Martin tried hard to speak — I... am ready... ready for another!

— If you keep this up, next time we're going to have to resurrect you, man! — Clooney said.

THE THREE SPENT A FEW MINUTES in silence, while Martin regained his strength and drank water little by little. After a while, feeling more capable, he asked his companions:

— Don't worry, it's all here. — Clooney replied.

—At least for a moment, stop thinking about it. — Carl Benedetti told him.

"We don't have much time," the young agent insisted, still with difficulty. "If we don't stop the President, it may be too late. If he starts occupations abroad, it will be impossible to back out without diplomatic problems."

— I can't disagree, — Brad Clooney added gravely. — And we also don't know how long we'll last as fugitives. Every minute more is a minute less.

— I love cliché phrases... — commented Carl Benedetti, looking at him sideways. Clooney frowned, because he was serious.

— He's right, — said Martin. — We still have a bigger problem: who can we take this to?

The issue was urgent. Without many options, the three began to think, but there was no solution that came to their minds.

Who would be trustworthy?

Would the Vice President be a wise choice?

There were so many opposing powers that it was difficult to imagine which was the correct path.

Martin knew he needed to inform him of those papers, but if he sent them to his email, he risked putting his life in danger.

Martin picked up his phone, already broken after so many difficult moments, but still working. He thought about calling Floyd Kenagan, discussing his findings with him, but then he remembered his relationship with President Kenan Vaine. All along, he remembered, the FBI inspector general had been very close to the president.

Step-by-step, decision-by-decision...

CHAPTER 177