The Watchmen [NOOK Book]

Overview

Only a miracle-and faulty workmanship-prevents a germ-packed warhead from exploding when a terrorist missile slams into the United Nations building in New York. The lettering on the side of the rocket is Russian, which presents the West with its worst nightmare: a direct link between a fanatical U. S. terrorist group and Russian gangsters with access to the germ warfare arsenal of the former Soviet Union.


This potentially devastating attack reunites the FBI's Russian expert ...

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The Watchmen

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Overview

Only a miracle-and faulty workmanship-prevents a germ-packed warhead from exploding when a terrorist missile slams into the United Nations building in New York. The lettering on the side of the rocket is Russian, which presents the West with its worst nightmare: a direct link between a fanatical U. S. terrorist group and Russian gangsters with access to the germ warfare arsenal of the former Soviet Union.


This potentially devastating attack reunites the FBI's Russian expert William Cowley and Moscow's Organized Crime Director Dimitri Danilov. Their task: to penetrate and destroy the unknown group claiming responsibility before they can strike again.


And as the Superpowers teeter on the brink of diplomatic meltdown, Cowley and Danilov make another nightmare discovery. The terrorists are being cleverly financed by ultra-sophisticated hackers looting U. S. banks, breaking into law enforcement and Pentagon computers, and keeping themselves always one click ahead of the frantic pursuit.


The Watchmen is a spine-chilling chase that strikes at the heart of our fears of terrorism and its prevention.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Freemantle, the prolific British espionage specialist best known for his Charlie Muffin series, always knows just how to kick a story into gear. Here, the problem is how to keep it going. The action unfolds with characteristic impact: a rocket, shot from a boat in New York harbor and carrying a deadly mix of anthrax and sarin, slams into the United Nations tower. The warhead fails to detonate and explosives experts identify the missile as Russian-made, yet the Kremlin steadfastly denies any knowledge of the terrorist attack and promises to cooperate fully in the investigation. That reunites William Cowley, the FBI's Moscow expert, and Dimitri Danilov, the head of Russia's Organized Crime Bureau. Over the next several weeks, similar attacks occur at the Washington Monument and the American Embassy in Moscow, and are attributed to a mysterious organization called the Watchmen. Traveling back and forth between the United States and Russia, Danilov and Cowley, assisted by fellow FBI agent and Cowley love interest Pamela Darnley, struggle to unmask the terrorists and identify their next target. The middle-aged Cowley and Danilov, who also appeared in Freemantle's No Time for Heroes, make for an impressive investigative team, yet they're a rather dour duo, lacking the nimble mind play and engaging personality of Muffin. Too much of the plot's punch gets lost in the minutiae of the chase, eventually grinding down to a sudden, unsatisfying ending, with Freemantle never adequately revealing what the terrorists are after. (Mar.) Forecast: In an author's note, Freemantle reveals that this novel was completed several months before the events of September 11, with a few references to the day added at the proof stage. Readers will make the connection, in any case, and jacket art blurrily suggesting the World Trade Center towers underscores the link. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Freemantle hits pay dirt as the UN Secretariat Tower is hit by a missile that's shoulder-launched from the East River and loaded with sarin and anthrax. The plot brings back alcoholic FBI investigator William Cowley, head of the Bureau's Russian Desk, and puts him in harness again with Dimitri Danilov, now head of Moscow's Organized Crime Bureau. Danilov worked with Cowley to bring down villains in 1993's The Button Man and 1995's No Time for Heroes, and, while he's now relatively sober, he still measures his Scotches with care. The missile lies unexploded in the Chinese level of the Secretariat building (the structure is an international territory), but, exploded or not, it has raised havoc, killed five people, and caused Manhattan to be evacuated (54 dead in the big rush outta town). Some Freemantle New Yorkers, thinking themselves at the end of the world-as in On the Beach-loot stores or raid the Tavern on the Green for a drunken dance of death in Central Park. When Cowley and a team of bomb disposal experts recover the warhead, they identify it as made from a Russian biological warfare plant in Gorki. Obviously, the Russians didn't mail it. The bomb was stolen from the Russian plant-and how many more do The Watchmen, the murderous US terrorists who financed this operation, have, and what do they plan to do with them? Thinly drawn info-characters feed the story while Cowley is hospitalized (a booby-trapped boat explodes) and Danilov finds his wife in bed with another man. Then, while explosives proliferate around the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, a hacker message on FBI computers reveals that The Watchmen think that Russia is our enemy. Soon Cowley is off to Gorki withDanilov, tracking lost warheads, then in Chicago pursuing the General of The Watchmen. Painstaking detail within a lively plot, all in Freemantle's familiar formula.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781429974103
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 4/1/2011
  • Sold by: Macmillan
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: First Edition
  • Edition number: 1
  • Pages: 448
  • Sales rank: 1,314,110
  • File size: 501 KB

Meet the Author

Brian Freemantle is the author of over thirty books, which have sold more than ten million copies worldwide. He lives in Winchester, England.


BRIAN FREEMANTLE is the author more than thirty books, which have sold more than ten million copies worldwide. These include fifteen previous novels in the Charlie Muffin series, most recently Red Star Burning. He has been foreign editor and chief foreign correspondent for the London Daily Mail and foreign correspondent for the London Daily Sketch, among others. He lives in England.
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Read an Excerpt

 
The Watchmen

1
There is never a moment of the day or night when the United Nations’ buildings between New York’s East River and First Avenue are completely unoccupied, but just after dawn, when the missile hit, the green-glassed, skyscraper Secretariat Tower, is one of the emptiest periods, which was fortunate. What was later to be described as a miracle was not immediately recognized.
Five people—three night-duty clerks and two cleaners—died instantly when the missile smashed into that level of the tower at which China has its secretariat.
By the diplomatic treaty under which the United Nations complex came into being in 1947, the land upon which its three buildings are constructed is international, not American. And does not, therefore, come under American jurisdiction or legal authority. Initially the Chinese refused any New York emergency service access to what was technically Chinese territory, not even to confirm the deaths or remove the bodies. The impasse was broken when the incumbent secretary-general, an Egyptian, pointed out to China’s UN ambassador in an outside corridor confrontation that the deaths and damage so far had apparently been caused only by the impact of the device, not by the detonation of its warhead, which could presumably occur at any moment. The ambassador still insisted that two totally unprotected members of his staff accompany an armor-suited NYPD bomb disposal team into the wrecked area.
It is standard operating procedure for such teams to work with live television and audio equipment, for their every action and movement to be permanently recorded for analysis in the event of a devastating mistake, which was how the image of the missile came to be instantly relayed beyond the shattered offices even before the unit assembled itself and its other paraphernalia. The main television monitor was in the control truck far below in the flag-bedecked forecourt fronting First Avenue. The intermediary link in the outside corridor, being watched by both the secretary-general and the ambassador, was operated by a nervous police technician named Ivan Bykov, who could read and speak the Russian language of his immigrant grandparents and whose potential catastrophe-limiting contribution was never recognized.
The virtually intact missile had come to rest against the wall of the fourth office in from the East River with the lettering on it toward the approaching camera. Bykov’s lips moved as he read the Cyrillic script, which he did twice before experiencing the first panicked awareness that he could already be dying. The words wouldn’t come at his first effort but then he managed: “Stop!” although too weak for it to register through the headsets of the disposal team. Then the panic took hold and the warning came out as a scream. “Stop! For fuck’s sake stop! Get back out of there!”
The camera—and the squad—stopped. The unit commander said, “What?”
Bykov said, “The third word in, on the top line. It says poison, in Russian. The next word is agent. It’s a biological or chemical warhead. If it’s fractured, it’s leaking already.”
The unit commander said, “Fuck. We’re dead,” and when the recording was replayed later, he couldn’t believe he’d sounded as calm as he did. He couldn’t remember, either, leaving the camera focused on the broken-necked missile, although he later publicly claimed it had been a positive decision.
The secretary-general realized at once that if microbiological agents were already leaking from the warhead, his life couldn’t be saved and reacted with a selfless bravery that was later to be internationally acknowledged. He issued instant although probably futile orders for the Secretariat Tower to be totally evacuated for the first time in its history, remaining himself on the possibly infected floor because it was quicker to use the telephones there than go to his own suite. From an office that had functioned as the Chinese delegation mailroom, he spoke, in carefully considered order of priority, to New York’s mayor, for Manhattan first to be closed to early-morning commuter traffic; then its residents and already arrived workers had to be cleared off the island. Having done that, he spoke directly to the American secretary of state and the president. The Russian ambassador to the UN was the second representative of the five permanent UN members nations to whom he spoke: China’s earlier obstructive envoy was by then urging his driver to go faster to the already backed-up Hudson River tunnel to reach New Jersey.
On the direct instructions of the FBI director, the helicopter carrying the microbiological scientists from Fort Detrick, Maryland, detoured to Andrews Air Force Base to pick up William Cowley, head of the bureau’s Russian Desk. As Cowley hurried aboard, head bent, James Schnecker, the leader of the scientific unit, said, “You think it’s happening all over again?”
“At the moment I don’t know what to think,” said Cowley. For once there wouldn’t have been any guilt in taking a drink. He wished he had one.

 
Patrick Hollis gazed in numbed disbelief at the scenes being relayed on the breakfast nook television, his stomach in turmoil. It should have been only a game—was a game—the sort he played on the war sites most nights. Not this. Not real. The General had tricked him. Told him that’s what a quartermaster’s function was, to guarantee supplies, and persuaded him to disclose how a campaign could be financed. Not a problem, Hollis decided, in relieved self-assurance. That’s what his pseudonym was, anonymously to roam and hack wherever he chose, unknown and unsuspected by anyone else. The Quartermaster. A soldier. Not Patrick Hollis, manager of loans and securities. He could never be caught. Found out.
“It couldn’t reach us here at Rensselaer, could it?”
Hollis physically jumped at his mother’s voice, from the stove.
“No,” he said. “We’re safe.” Where had the General gotten it? How? People didn’t actually die in war games. Not a game, not anymore.
“There’s more waffles.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ve got to keep your strength up; you’re not strong.”
“No more, thank you.”
“You sure we’ve safe?”
“Quite sure.”
“I really wouldn’t know what to do without you, Patrick.”
“You’re never going to need to find out, are you?”
THE WATCHMEN. Copyright © 2002 by Brian Freemantle. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

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Table of Contents

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 2, 2002

    exciting espionage thriller

    The rocket is fired from the nearby East River striking the UN Building in the China sector, killing a few workers by its impact though the explosion did not occurr. However, the bomb detonation experts realize that the warhead contains biological poisons and is leaking so that any person who has already come in contact will be dead shortly. Though the lettering on the warhead is Russian, the Kremlin denies that this warhead was part of its inventory. <P>Still the two countries cooperate as FBI Moscow expert William Crowley and the Russian Organized Crime Bureau Chief Dimitri Danilov begin a joint investigation. Other attacks follow with credit for the assaults claimed by a previously unknown group, THE WATCHMEN. William and Dimitri wonder how to stop the watchmen who apparently consist of American finance and computer gurus with Russian criminals? <P> THE WATCHMEN is an exciting espionage thriller that never slows down on the cat and mouse chase that spans two continents. The lead duo is engaging but morose, a pair who have seen too much in their respective lives; their gloomy personalities actually add dark tension to the dynamic story line. Brian Freemantle never quite slows down to provide the demands of THE WATCHMEN so that the audience is left with an exhilarating thrill ride that will please the action adventure reader, but also leave fans with a ¿huh¿ that asks why they committed the deeds? <P>Harriet Klausner

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