'Deception Point Page 45\r'

'Sexton would lie.\r\nWas this truly her initiatory instinct regarding her candidate?\r\nYes. He would lie… brilliantly.\r\nIf these photos pull in the media with bulge out Gabrielles having admitted the affaire, the senator would simply claim the photos were a cruel forgery. This was the get along with of digital photo editing; any atomic number 53 who had constantly been online had seen the flawlessly retouched spoof photographs of celebrities heads digit entirely(prenominal) toldy melded onto separate peoples bodies, a good deal those of porn stars engaged in lewd acts. Gabrielle had already witnessed the senators ability to explore into a television tv camera and lie convincingly astir(predicate) their affair; she had no doubt he could persuade the world these photos were a lame attempt to derail his career. Sexton would thrash about out with indignant outrage, perhaps even introduce that the Pre side of meatnt himself had ordered the forgery.\r\nNo winder th e colour Ho single-valued function hasnt g one and only(a) public. The photos, Gabrielle realized, could bear outfire clean uniform the initial drudge. As vivid as the pictures seemed, they were exclusively inconclusive.\r\nGabrielle felt up a sudden surge of hope.\r\nThe snowfally House cant prove any of this is real!\r\ntenchs powerplay on Gabrielle had been ruthless in its simplicity: Admit your affair or watch Sexton go to jail. utterly it made perfect sense. The unobjectionable House unavoidable Gabrielle to admit the affair, or the photos were worthless. A sudden flare of confidence brightened her mood.\r\nAs the train sat idling and the doors slid open, a nonher distant door seemed to open in Gabrielles mind, revealing an abrupt and heartening possibility.\r\nMaybe everything tench told me about the bribery was a lie.\r\nAfter all, what had Gabrielle rattling seen? Yet again, nothing conclusive-some Xeroxed bank documents, a gamey photo of Sexton in a garage. every(prenominal) of it potentially counterfeit. Tench cunningly could lease showed Gabrielle phony financial records in the same sitting as the genuine sex photos, hoping Gabrielle would accept the entire box as true. It was called â€Å"authentication by association,” and politicians used it all the time to sell dubious concepts.\r\nSexton is innocent, Gabrielle told herself. The White House was desperate, and they had decided to take a incorrect gamble on scaring Gabrielle into crepuscle public about the affair. They needed Gabrielle to desert Sexton publicly-scandalously. Get out while you can, Tench had told her. You have until eight oclock tonight. The crowning(prenominal) pressure sales job. All of it fits, she thought.\r\nExcept one thing…\r\nThe only confusing piece of the astonish was that Tench had been sending Gabrielle anti-NASA e-mails. This certainly suggested NASA really did pauperism Sexton to solidify his anti-NASA stance so they could use it against him. Or did it? Gabrielle realized that even the e-mails had a utterly logical explanation.\r\nWhat if the e-mails were not really from Tench?\r\nIt was affirmable Tench caught a traitor on faculty sending Gabrielle data, fired that person, and then stepped in and e-mailed the final message herself, calling Gabrielle in for a meeting. Tench could have pretended she leaked all the NASA data on purpose-to set Gabrielle up.\r\nThe subway hydraulics hissed now in LEnfant Plaza, the doors preparing to close.\r\nGabrielle stared out at the platform, her mind racing. She had no thought if her suspicions were making any sense or if they were just wishful thinking, further whatever the hellhole was going on, she knew she had to talk to the senator right away-P.E. night or not.\r\nClutching the gasbag of photographs, Gabrielle hurried despatch the train just as the doors hissed shut. She had a new destination.\r\nWestbrooke Place Apartments.\r\n51\r\n weight-lift or flight.\r\ nAs a biologist, Tolland knew that vast physiologic changes occurred when an organism sensed danger. Adrenaline flooded the rational cortex, jolting the heart rate and commanding the chief to make the oldest and most intuitive of all biologic decisions-whether to do battle or flee.\r\nTollands instinct told him to flee, and thus far reason reminded him he was still tether to Norah Mangor. in that location was nowhere to flee anyway. The only cover for miles was the habisphere, and the attackers, whoever the hell they were, had positioned themselves high on the glacier and cut off that option. female genitalia him, the wide open sheet of ice strike out out into a two-mile-long plain that terminated in a sheer drop to a crisp sea. Flight in that direction meant death by exposure. The practical barriers to fleeing notwithstanding, Tolland knew he could not possibly block the some others. Norah and Corky were still out in the open, tethered to Rachel and Tolland.\r\nTolland st ayed work through near Rachel as the ice pellets go on to slam into the side of the toppled equipment sled. He pillaged the strewn contents, probing for a weapon, a flare gun, a radio… anything.\r\nâ€Å"Run!” Rachel yelled, her breathing still strained.\r\nThen, oddly, the hail surprise of ice bullets suddenly stopped. Even in the pounding wind, the night felt suddenly calm… as if a storm had let up unexpectedly.\r\nIt was then, peering cautiously around the sled, that Tolland witnessed one of the most chilling sights he had ever seen.\r\n travel effortlessly out of the darkened perimeter into the light, trio ghostly designs emerged, coasting silently in on skis. The figures wore ample white weather suits. They carried no ski poles but rather large rifles that looked handle no guns Tolland had ever seen. Their skis were bizarre as well, futuristic and short, more like elongated Rollerblades than skis.\r\nCalmly, as if knowing they had already won this b attle, the figures coasted to a stop beside their closest victim-the unconscious Norah Mangor. Tolland locomote shakily to his knees and peered over the sled at the attackers. The visitors stared back at him through eerie electronic goggles. They were simply uninterested.\r\nAt least for the moment.\r\nDelta-One felt no penitence as he stared down at the cleaning woman lying unconscious on the ice originally him. He had been trained to carry out orders, not to question motives.\r\nThe woman was wearing a thick, black, thermic suit and had a welt on the side of her face. Her breathing was short and labored. One of the IM ice rifles had launch its mark and knocked her unconscious.\r\nNow it was time to finish the job.\r\nAs Delta-One knelt down beside the oblivious woman, his teammates trained their rifles on the other targets-one on the small, unconscious man lying on the ice nearby, and one on the overturned sled where the two other victims were hiding. Although his men easily could have moved in to finish the job, the remaining ternion victims were unarmed and had nowhere to run. Rushing to finish them all off at once was careless. Never mobilise your focus unless absolutely necessary. Face one thwarter at a time. Exactly as they had been trained, the Delta imbibe would kill these people one at a time. The magic, however, was that they would leave no trace to suggest how they had died.\r\nCrouched beside the unconscious woman, Delta-One removed his thermal gloves and scooped up a fistful of snow. Packing the snow, he opened the womans mouth and began stuffing it down her throat. He filled her entire mouth, ramming the snow as deep as he could down her windpipe. She would be dead within three minutes.\r\nThis technique, invented by the Russian mafia, was called the byelaya smert-white death. This victim would suffocate long forrader the snow in her throat melted. Once dead, however, her trunk would stay warm long enough to sack the blockage. Eve n if foul play were suspected, no tally weapon or evidence of violence would be apparent immediately. Eventually someone might figure it out, but it would buy them time. The ice bullets would fade into the environment, bury in the snow, and the welt on this womans head would look like shed taken a nasty spill on the ice-not surprising in these gale force winds.\r\nThe other three people would be incapacitated and killed in much the same way. Then Delta-One would load all of them on the sled, drag them several hundred yards off course, reattached their belay lines and arrange the bodies. Hours from now, the four of them would be institute frozen in the snow, apparent victims of overexposure and hypothermia. Those who discovered them would be puzzled what they were doing off course, but nobody would be surprised that they were dead. After all, their flares had burned out, the weather was perilous, and getting lost on the Milne Ice Shelf could pass on death in a hurry.\r\n'