Chapter 3

National Security Agency

Forte Meade, Maryland

15:20 hours 18th July

THE NSA lies five miles outside the town of Laurel, Maryland, within the confines of an army post named after a civil war hero, Gordon Meade. The NSA' location is the best known secretive intelligence agency in the world, providing information from every form of view along with taps on phone calls on almost every line in the world. The NSA needed a different way of going about getting information for national security; and Third Echelon was the answer. Third Echelon was the answer for getting information into the NSA off the radar, without any knowledge to the outside world; sending in operatives known as "Splinter Cells" to get the job done.

The Osprey's cargo bay door opened up onto a large airstrip half a mile away from the NSA. Lambert stood up leaning against a black shiny Cadillac puffing a cigar in his mouth with one arm folded. His stands '6" tall and is solidly built all over. His African-American background gave him a look of superiority as he stood there blowing the smoke from his mouth. Another person stepped out, Grim; a skinny figure with brunette hair and a lightened expression to her face. She stood next to Lambert leaning also against the Cadillac as I walked down the ramp.

Lambert pulled the cigar from his mouth puffing a ring of smoke "Glad you made it Sam," Lambert said. The boot popped up and I chucked the duffle bag in the back "Glad to be back," I answered.

"Get in; we've got a lot to talk about."

The driver stepped out and opened the door; I stepped in opposite to Jennifer sitting down on the black leather lined with red stitching. Lambert slid in and sat in the opposite seats facing me. The Cadillac's engine purred and took off across the runway.

"What's the situation?" I asked.

"Not good," Lambert responded "So far the president doesn't know that the hostages are dead, the longer he doesn't know the more time we have to sort this out,"

"And how are we going to do that? The footage is gone; all the reporters that could have given us details on the image are dead… there's not much more to figure out."

"But actually there is,"

"Really?" I asked. Lambert shuffled through a folder then pulled out some documents. "Here," he past me a large personnel file with a photo of a man on the front. I spun it upright and asked "Who's this?" the man was dressed in formal military clothing wearing the star of a General.

"This is the man we saw through the laptop on your last mission; Horishi Otomo, former vice president, now secretary of defense." Lambert answered.

"What's his involvement on the matter?" I said passing the file back to Lambert.

"Where not sure, that's one of your primary objectives on your next mission." The Cadillac turned right shifting me in my seat, as it floated onto a gravel road. "We believe that the Chinese presidents denying of the matter was true,"

"And that, all this happened behind his back?"

"We believe so…"

"What about the footage? He admitted to that,"

"We know, but he most likely doesn't know the whole story. So we believe that Horishi Otomo is running an organization behind his back, and it appears the military is supporting him." I looked out the window as we approached the front gates.

"Have we approached their president?"

"No chance, they deny any negotiations that we offer, the fatalities back in Congo were reported; a mistake not to be made again. But we have got one man on the inside; Long Dan, vice president of China."

"How's he helping?" the Cadillac passed the first two gates, passing numerous scanners, license ID's and armed security car checks.

"Apparently he's just as keen on preventing a war just as much as we are; he's offered to negotiate between the two governments and hopefully lower the tension." The doors opened and the driver stood at attention. I looked across to Grim and gave a smirk "What are you doing?" she paused from hacking the board and looked at me "Uh… well, I'm trying to trace the room where the conversation took place, by the looks of it; it took place in the Chinese state embassy." She said hacking once more into the keys.

Lambert slid across and stepped out "Come on, we'll explain inside."

The door opened and I got out pulling the duffle bag from the trunk; I entered the building, scanning the several retinal and fingerprint scanners before placing my bag on a conveyer belt that ran through a metal detector scanning what ever items that lay inside. I entered the main foyer where yet another metal detector awaited; I passed through slowly and the alarm went off. Grim and Lambert stopped and turned around, both with sarcastic faces. The guard walked over with a hand held metal detector about to frisk my clothes; I signaled him not to bother and pulled out an automatic 55-Colt pistol from the holster under my black leather jack, flipping it around so the butt of the pistol was accessible. The foyer was large and brightly lit from the many lights that hung from the ceiling and the large sky light that lit the National Security Agency emblem on the black marble floor. The room was also littered by numerous guards and security cameras covering every section of the foyer.

A ding sounded ahead followed by elevator doors opening up; Grimsdottir Lambert and I stepped inside and slid our ID cards through the scanner then pressed floor five. There was a long silence before I broke it "Where's James?" I asked.

"He's gone to collect your present from the NDT," or National Defense Technologies. "He'll be back soon."

"Good, I like presents." The elevator slowed and halted on the fifth floor below ground. The doors opened to a large room littered with plasma screen TVs along the walls, each one showing either a face, satellite image of a place, heat signatures, or flowing matrix codes. The room was practically bare of presence apart from the occasional agent typing into his computer.

We walked in and entered a large conference room with a large mahogany table running through the middle. I left my gear by the door and sat down in one of the seats. Lambert followed placing a folder on the table; Grim did the same only her laptop. Lambert pulled out a remote and clicked a button; the windows to the room faded grey and outside visibility was cut off.

"Your next mission Sam will take place at eleven hundred hours tomorrow night. You will be infiltrating the Chinese state embassy in hope to recover the footage." Lambert said. We focused our attention on a plasma screen as it zoomed up close from a birds eye view.

"I thought the footage was destroyed?" I asked crossing my arms leaning back in my chair.

"Not entirely… take it away Grim," Lambert said.

"Well, from what I can tell, the computer network Horishi Otomo used was un accessible by hacking. Now that type of network keeps an archive mainframe deep within the system, providing whatever it needs, even if it has been totally deleted. It has most likely been deleted but if you get in there you should be able to upload the memory to Third Echelon for further viewing. Though it has to happen soon, if they find this out they can destroy the whole system, leaving us with nothing." They looked back to me in response,

"Sound solid. What do you think Lambert?"

"I think it's good, it's just do you think you can do it? This is no ordinary embassy you're going to be infiltrating. There will be top notch security, and almost impenetrable walls." I looked at the screen and examined the building tapping my fingers on the table. "It's doable."

"Good, I hoped you would say that," he pulled out another file and slid it across the table into my hands. The photo was of Otomo entering the embassy door. "One of our men has taken these images; so far we've had no word of him leaving the building, giving us the best opportunity to take him down. The Chinese president wants proof, if not; he's forgetting the matter; so Otomo's confession and the recording earlier on should be enough."

"What if we don't like what's on the footage?" I said sliding the image back.

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes." The doors swung open and Brunton stumbled in. He sat down at the table and dropped a large metal briefcase on the table. "Sorry, had a few things to pick up." He unclipped the brief case and opened it, inside was several small items. I peered over the table and into the briefcase "What have you got for me James?" I asked. He reached in and pulled out a small black rubber bullet and fiddled with it in his fingers. "This is your latest LTL device," chucked it across the table into my lap "Fired from your under-barrel at ranges from ten to one meters, fired at either body or head; though head will cause instant unconsciousness, it still should be used with caution, can cause fatal outcomes; I suggest for that outcome, stick with the ARF. Fired at the body or chest will stun, depending on weight and size of the victim, most likely to throw the off there feet dazed. We had a volunteer offer to be tested; at ten meters he was thrown one meter onto his back, stunned, winded and slightly conscious. Basically, it's like a riot bullet; Nicknamed 'Bulldog'." I chucked it back and he placed it in the case "Cool…" I said.

He pulled out another object, one smaller, thinner and metal. "This is your latest in lock picking Sam." once again he chucked it to me, it was the size of a straw but flattened at either end; I gave a smirk "This doesn't look like a lock pick."

"It's because it more like an automatic lock pick, though advised for quick getaways. All you have to do is: insert it into almost any form of lock, ignite the end and step back. It's filled with the same materials as the "burn tie", severing the pins in the lock with a flash of light and a sizzle. Though once used, it can't be used again."

"Let's hope I won't need it." I said chucking it back. The room was silent, apart from the occasional rings out in the foyer. "Ok Sam, do what you want, but your plane leaves at approximately eleven hundred. Be there." Lambert ordered packing up his files. He walked out of the room and closed the door.

I gave Brunton a look "Anyone noticed his stubbornness of late? Or is it just me?"

"Just you; what are you up to tonight? You guys want to come back to my place, grab a beer?" Brunton said standing up. I looked at Grim and shook my head "Don't know about you, but I better hit the sack, get ready for tomorrow." I jumped up and stretched.

"Yeah me too, I haven't slept for three days." Grim said yawning widely.

"Fine, I'll have a beer by myself." Brunton said sarcastically.

I gave a grin and walked to the door "Maybe some other time, it does sound great," we walked out and waited for the elevator. "Hey, how's the Landy?" almost two years ago, I gave James my 2003 Landrover Discovery; he didn't get the big money that I did, so I gave it to him.

"Great… best thing me and the fam have." Brunton is a husband and the father of two girls, its hard to think, but there marriage couldn't be better; I mean, all the time away he would spend, its as if his always there. But that's probably the first layer, there's bound to be some bad circumstances, but there has so far been none.

"Good," the doors opened and we stepped in.

"We just took it 4x4ing last vacation; went up camping at Shelby, Montana. Didn't miss a beat." The more he talked, the more I missed it, and the more I regretted giving it to him. Since then I bought a 2007 Jeep Grand Cherokee, its nice, but I'd prefer the Landrover.

Grim gave a chuckle and pressed the first floor button, then swiped her card. "Boys and their toys… hold on, is 'boy' the right term?" I folded my arms and laughed. "Huh, sure."

* * *

The driveway to my farm house followed a two hundred meter dirt track through an alley of Columbian pines. The drive way opens up onto a small personal car park directly in front of the house, circling around a large antique fountain. The house had proof of renovations and the occasional cracked roof tile. It was stone and smothered in vines from top to bottom; the house was surrounded by acres of lush farmland and forest, backed on to a small river that I would usually go down to fish; the river also had the beginnings of a wharf I was building in my spare time. The house was far too big for one person, fitted with two stories, and four bedrooms each fitted its own personal bathroom and suite. There were two studies, one entertainment room, and a large kitchen that joined with the lounge.

I pulled the hand brake up and turned off the engine, the Jeep shuddered to a stop.

I sat in the seat and watched the leaves blow by the windscreen; the atmosphere was relaxing, quiet, just what a Splinter Cell feels like after returning from a mission.

Grabbing the suitcase from the back, I exited the car and approached the front door. The house had a security system installed due to my work, fitted with sensors connected straight to Third Echelon if anything was to go wrong. To open the front door, an electronic security pin number had to be entered to disarm and set the alarm. Like most of my codes, the pin was Sarah's birth date; 24, 11, 85. I typed it in and pressed disarm. The lock cranked open as I turned it with the keys. The main door opened up to a large room, furnished in modern furniture, with polished wooden floorboards. The room led left, to the kitchen and separate study; and right to the entertainment room that joined with two bedrooms. In each corner were two spiral staircases leading up to the master bedroom, a spare bedroom and the other study.

I stepped into the kitchen and chucked the bag on the table kicking off my shoes. The answering machine said three new messages, which I thought was a surprise.

"Hi Sam, its Maria. Just wondering where you've been the past couple weeks, we've missed you at our classes," every Thursday, if available, I take classes of Krav Maga with which Maria Strag taught, training for relaxation. Just to keep up my fitness. The classes also provide body workouts and self-defense training, all in which I have conquered due to my work, but the classes keep my fitness even; Training to be a Splinter Cell involved years of hard work, training to be better than the best, and overachieving on what you're supposed to. Spending ours exercising self-defense and offensive hand to hand combat training, introducing all the methods of every martial arts system into the program, and spending weeks practicing acrobatic moves: like somersaults, wall running, shimmying, split jumps (a 'split jump' jump is when there is an alley or hallway big enough to run up and extend you legs on either wall holding yourself up high above the victims head.)

And many other acrobatic moves that have many times proved useful for work.

The drainage of training almost killed me, that's why I was chosen. Most men training for the field as a Splinter Cell failed to endure the hard work, leaving them at near breaking point; which I did endure, and it has all paid off. The most painful part of training was the torture, training not to reveal information under any torture or circumstances that could take the lives of American citizens. Third Echelon made sure only those that endured the tests passed on, that in which I almost failed. Sending me into depression and fear of what was to come for several months, spending long nights starring at the ceiling and shivering in bed.

I shook the though from my head and listened to the rest of the message "Well, if you get this message, ring me back to tell me that you're alright. Ok? Well seya." The answering machine beeped than the second message came on, the message was rough and jumbled "Hey, what you up to? Umm… well you're obviously not home so, I'll call back later. Turn off… turn…" the message died, and I gave a chuckle, Brunton was the biggest techno freak but couldn't work his own phone. I clicked the next one to hear the same shuffles as before "… what the? I said turn off…!"

The phone beeped followed by "No new messages."

I walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer, then walked to the lounge and plonked down. A plasma TV stuck to the wall, along with a large surround sound speaker system. I sat there bored, tapping my fingers on the armrest looking out side to the sun setting behind the trees. The TV buzzed to life with a hum of static, I flicked through numerous channels and noticed life was boring, it was all news, comedy (which is my worst theme) and sport, which I don't mind, but golf? I killed the TV and chucked the remote aside taking a sip of the beer. I put my legs to the coffee table and closed my eyes, no sooner dosing off like an old man, which I won't admit to Grim, leaning my head back against the headrest mouth wide open and snoring like a… well I don't know, just snoring.

I gained consciousness, slightly; opening my eyes to a dark room lit by the glow of the moon outside. My clothes were soaked and I jolted up, I fell asleep spilling the beer down my front partially wetting the lounge in the meantime. "Damn!" I got up and gulped the remainder of the beer and walked to my room chucking my black singlet in the clothes basket and jacket to the bed.

I was tired as hell, pulling off the blankets and sliding under a single sheet.

On my bedside dresser were two picture frames, of my daughter Sarah, and wife Carole; they both passed away in a period of three years, leaving me dead and empty, unknown to the outside world. Those three years were the worst of my life, Carole died in an accident striking me to the ground, but Sarah raised me up again; I was almost at the end of the pain from Carole, when Sarah was killed in a terrorist act. Though it wasn't that often we contacted each other, due to her living in London, she was the only thing keeping me going. I remembered the times she would visit, and we'd sit up late watching old movies and eating pizza; or when we would go on road trips across America, and camp up in the mountains. But when she died, regret and anger came upon me; we never saw each other that often, mostly due to my work as an "over seas salesman". I was hard refraining from telling her the truth, especially when she new I was lying, she got that from her mother. She saw my face before she died. She was gagged and tied up with a pistol to her head; her face was sad and tears pelted the floor as I just stood there and watched her execution, followed by mine.

I shook my head of thoughts and rolled over pulling the sheet over my shoulder hoping for some peace of mind.

The next morning up woke up early doing an hour of push-ups, sit-ups and weights, followed by relaxing yoga style air punching. I got dressed in a black muscle shirt and cargo pants along with a black coat over the top. I spent half of the morning working more on the front balcony, setting up the stilts I made myself and attaching a railing to the edge.

I left the house at twenty-four hundred hours and started on my way to a private airport forty-five minutes from Maryland; where Lambert, Brunton and Grim all awaited, inside a small private jet idling on the airstrip.

The jet's sided door opened up to steps that led into a spacious row of red trimmed seats each with its own satellite TV, on the right side of the cabin was a wooden table with black leather seats surrounding it. Lambert and Grim sat at the table filing through their work as Brunton walked down the isle wiping his hands in a tea towel. "Lambert," I said taking a seat.

"Sam," he replied flipping through a file.

"What have you got for me?"

"You will land at a private airport supplied by our embassy over there, in Hong Kong. You will be picked up and then supplied a vehicle to drive to your destination; only two people know of your job over there: a CIA agent Michael Herrin and vice president, Long Dan himself." He took a sip of his coffee and placed the files down.

"Is that the best idea sir?"

"Long Dan doesn't know about Third Echelon, but he knows we're sending in an agent to recover whatever info is needed. Your cover name is Joseph Pot."

"Ok, but can't he just tell us whatever's on the footage?"

"According to his info; their president won't reveal any idea on the matter of the footage. He has kept no evidence of it."

"So I get in there, get the footage, ask Otomo a couple of questions and get out?"

"Precisely, two hours before the conversation between Otomo and the Chinese General, there was a conversation between Otomo and someone unknown, the voice was synthesized and they were good, no names or ranks mentioned, just'sir'."

"Could we trace it?"

"Not a chance, Jennifer was chucked off immediately. Meaning Otomo probably didn't give the orders…"

"I'll find out who did, and who's behind this."

"Good," the plane door closed and the plane rolled to a start. "Get dressed and grab your gear, we'll arrive at approximately nine hundred hours."

I did just that, before resting in the beds provided, hoping to catch some sleep.

* * *

The American Embassy shared a private airstrip with other high powered nations, purposed for political negations, getting men of high importance in and out of the country without the public's knowledge, therefore creating less hassle. The airstrip is an hour's drive rural from a large town called Zhangzhou.

The jet touched down at nine forty five pm, leaving me two hours to get ready and arrive at the CIA safe house ten minutes from the Chinese Embassy.

The doors opened up to a black Lincoln Navigator with the Vice president and several soldiers standing at his side. We walked down a jumped in to the black SUV, followed by Long Dan and Lambert, than two agents in black suits jumped in the front. We all shook Dan's hand before getting to business.

"Otomo is still present in the Embassy, which is probably where he makes his orders and is contactable." Dan says, he checks his watch and continues "I'm am aware of your purpose here Mr. Fisher, and I wont get in you way, something does have to be done about the situation." Long Dan is clean shaven and as skinny as a twig, wearing traditional political clothing, black suite and tie.

Lambert leans forward leaning on his knees joining his hands "Your objectives, you probably know, but I might as well skim them over; your primary objectives are to retrieve the footage and upload it to the NSA; your second is to find out who Otomo is receiving his orders from and who else is involved."

Brunton joined in "Ah, Sam, your extraction point will be an alley one block east from the embassy, where I will be waiting in a black van; I think you know what it looks like."

"Yeah," I said fiddling with the electric windows. Grim opened her laptop and punched a few keys. "Sam, it looks like getting the footage is the easy, but getting in? Well that's another story. The Embassy's is fitted with multiple alarm systems and heavy security. Don't expect the Chinese to be casual, because they wont, the guards are only hired if they never let down there guard, there actions will be quick and precise. So expect difficult situations."

"Glad to see you trust my abilities, I'm flattered." She gave a chuckle and continued punching in keys.

"You should be, not many elderly people can do what you do…" she said sarcastically.

"Hey, who are you calling elderly?" I said pointing my finger sarcastically.

The SUV's high beams lit the road as we continued through the outskirts of the town. We bypassed Zhangzhou and headed to the American embassy a few kilometers away.

Lambert and Long Dan continued discussing the situation the whole trip, as Brunton Grim and I just listened in; well Jennifer was too busy rummaging through her laptop. I stepped in mid conversation cutting Long Dan short, "Colonel, ROE?" the SUV pulled up at the embassy and the Vice president jumped out as the Colonel signaled.

"Aloud, Fifth Freedom if necessary, try to reduce fatalities to a minimum."

The Fifth Freedom was the main installment to the Third Echelon and Splinter Cell program. Fifth Freedom allows freedom of speech, freedom to take whatever steps necessary to save American lives, allowing lethal force for the accomplishment of the mission. It was to be more secretive than Third Echelon itself, allowing an operative to have freedom in his steps. It was my most important rule, to use Fifth Freedom on friend or foe in order to contain National Security. The Fifth Freedom rule was entrusted on Lambert to give the order whenever it may seem necessary.

"I'll try my best to keep it clean." I responded.

"Good," he hopped out and turned around giving my hand a shake "Good luck, stay safe." I gave a grin and replied "Always."

Dan walked into the building with the mobile to his ear and was followed in past the gates by Lambert and a guard.

The SUV pulled up two blocks away from the safe house located in a room above a small takeaway café. Brunton Grim and I jumped out walked the two blocks occasionally checking for presence. We approached the staircase leading to the apartment. Brunton gave three knocks then one light knock, followed by two more heavy knocks. The door swung open and they walked in; I scanned the streets to see if we were being watched then walked in, up the staircase and into a small apartment littered with laptops and photos pinned to the wall. Sitting in a seat was a pale white man wearing glasses and a white shirt with black short cut hair; he was reasonable in figure and appeared as what I would call a 'geek', as he sat at the computer typing furiously as Jennifer would. He looked up and gave a smile as I dumped my suit case containing civilian clothes and items on the floor. He then hesitated then jumped up extending his hand "William, William Redding." His voice was reasonably deep compared to his appearance. I grasped his hand and made him gasp. "Sam Fisher." I looked at Grim and raised an eyebrow. She looked back and motioned Redding to continue "Oh, sorry I'm new to the team, well a recruit; I'm a computer analyst and hacker, but mostly learning Brunton's job." Brunton shrugged and sat down at the computer.

"Why? We don't need anyone else."

"Lambert say's I'll be valuable, I'm in the running to being chosen to guide another Splinter Cell." I looked at Grim and she frowned, "He's good, very good. Almost leaves me for dead." I didn't like the idea of another team member lurching in the background; but if that's what Lambert said, than I'll have to get over it.

"Fine, just don't get in the way."

"I'll try not sir…"

We finished the tense greeting and I got dressed into my black tactical suit; this one was my most used suit, covering all except the head in the same 'Rhino Plate' vest material. I loaded my 5-7 and SC-20 and positioned my goggles. Brunton tapped me on the back and said that it was time. I tightened my shoe lace and headed for the stair case.

"Good luck Sam," Grimsdottir said, "I'll be contacting you from in here, helping you past whatever obstacle I can." I nodded "Thanks,"

We stopped at the door and looked out the peep hole. A black van turned up and signaled three varied flashes from the passenger seat. Brunton cleared the street first and we jumped in the back closing the doors behind us taking off with pace toward the embassy.