Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #1

Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #1

Paperback(Tall Rack Paperback)

$9.00 $9.99 Save 10% Current price is $9, Original price is $9.99. You Save 10%.
View All Available Formats & Editions
Choose Expedited Shipping at checkout for guaranteed delivery by Wednesday, February 20

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780425201688
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Publication date: 12/28/2004
Series: Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell Series , #1
Pages: 416
Sales rank: 128,894
Product dimensions: 4.20(w) x 7.51(h) x 0.86(d)

About the Author

A little more than thirty years ago Tom Clancy was a Maryland insurance broker with a passion for naval history. Years before, he had been an English major at Baltimore’s Loyola College and had always dreamed of writing a novel. His first effort, The Hunt for Red October, sold briskly as a result of rave reviews, then catapulted onto the New York Times bestseller list after President Reagan pronounced it “the perfect yarn.” From that day forward, Clancy established himself as an undisputed master at blending exceptional realism and authenticity, intricate plotting, and razor-sharp suspense. He passed away in October 2013.


Huntingtown, Maryland

Date of Birth:

April 12, 1947

Date of Death:

October 1, 2013

Place of Birth:

Baltimore, Maryland


Loyola High School in Towson, Maryland, 1965; B.A. in English, Loyola College, 1969

Read an Excerpt

Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell

By Tom Clancy David Michaels


ISBN: 0-425-20168-6

Chapter One

It's like being in a state of nonexistence. A vacuum. Darkness and light at the same time, and no sense of gravity. There's no air, but I know I'm breathing. Certainly no sounds are present. I see and feel nothing. There are no dreams.

That's what sleep is like for me. I'm blessed, I suppose. I can will myself to sleep anywhere, anytime. I didn't train to do it. It's always been that way, ever since I was a kid. I simply tell myself, "It's time to sleep now." And I do it. I'm sure a lot of people in the world would envy this talent. I don't take it for granted because in my business I have to catch sleep in the strangest places and at the oddest times.

I feel the pulsating pressure on my wrist. It gently pulls me out of this dimensionless world, and I slowly regain the use of my senses. I feel the warm metal against my face. I hear far-off nondescript echoes.

The OPSAT attached to my wrist continues to wake me. There's a little T-shaped rod that protrudes from the flexible band when the silent "alarm" goes off. The rod rocks back and forth, nudging my pulse, telling my body that it's time to rouse. When I first saw it demonstrated, it reminded me of a James Coburn spy movie from the sixties in which he played a secret agent who could stop his heart on command. This apparently put him in some kind of hibernation. He had a wristwatch with the same kind of T-shaped rod that poked himuntil he woke up. I remember laughing in the movie theater when I saw that. It was too ridiculous to take seriously. Now look at me.

I take a few deep breaths. The air is stale and dry inside the ventilation shaft where I spent the last six hours. I flex my hands to get the blood circulating once again. I stretch my feet, even though they're enclosed snugly in my boots.

Then I open my eyes.

There's no more light in the shaft than there was when I first climbed into it.

The OPSAT finishes its duty and the little T-shaped rod retracts. I bring my left hand to my face and press the button to illuminate the OPSAT's screen. There are no new messages from Lambert. No incoming e-mail. All's quiet in the world. The OPSAT is a handy little device that Third Echelon dreamed up for its agents. It's really called an Operational Satellite Uplink. Primarily a tool for communication, it has many other uses as well. I particularly like the camera capabilities that allow me to snap digital pics of anything I want.

I'm suddenly aware of how hot it is and I remember where I am. The ventilation shaft of the Tropical Casino in Macau. I'm lying horizontally in a space slightly smaller than a phone booth. It's a good thing I'm not claustrophobic or I'd be a basket case by now. Since I had to wait for the right time to make my move, I set the alarm to wake me at four in the morning. I figured that's when activity inside the casino would be at its most muted. It's a twenty-four-hour joint, so there's always going to be someone here.

I'm sweating like a pig inside my custom-made uniform. I forgot to adjust the temperature control before going to sleep. I quickly turn the knob at my belt to make it cooler. Immediately I can feel the cold water flowing through the vessels embedded within the uniform's lining. The military calls it an "Objective Force Warrior" uniform. It's like an astronaut's suit, only sleeker and tighter. I can make it cold or hot, depending on what kind of environment I'm in. It's made of a heavy material with Kevlar sewn into it, yet it's flexible enough for me to perform any gymnastic feat I wish to attempt. I wouldn't call it bulletproof, but it's close. The tough outer hide feels like elephant skin to the touch, and it goes a long way toward deflecting stuff. I suppose if I were shot at point blank I'd be dead, but bullets fired from a range of fifteen feet or more might penetrate the suit but not me. The Kevlar acts as a braking mechanism. Pretty cool stuff. Another interesting feature is that it's got photosensitive threading that reacts when a targeting laser strikes the material. The suit sends a signal to my OPSAT, alerting me that I'm in a sniper's gun sight.

My only beef with the uniform is that it's so tight fitting and neat that it makes me look like a comic book superhero. Even my special headpiece looks like a mask when I have the goggles down.

I pull the straw from the tube in the collar and suck refreshing cold water from the supply stored in the bladders distributed evenly throughout the suit. There's enough water in there to last twelve hours as long as I use it sparingly. It's an odd concept, but I have to "fill up my uniform" every so often.

Time for a little energy. I raise my body enough so I can reach into the Osprey strapped to my back and pull out a ration. The food in those things tastes a lot like the MREs the army gets, so there's a variety of stuff-from Cajun-style rice and beans to spaghetti to grilled chicken breast. Maybe some of that stuff is actually in the recipes. The one I happen to pick resembles trail mix. As I munch on the delicacy, I recall how I got here and what the hell I'm supposed to be doing.

I had entered the casino during the early evening, just as the big crowds were beginning to populate the place. I wore street clothes and figured I'd be less noticeable when a lot of people were here. Casinos in Macau are different from other ones around the world. The Chinese take their gambling very seriously. There's never any shouting of "Jackpot," much less any hint of smiles from these people. They look as if they'd just as soon shoot you as deal you a card. It's par for the course, I guess. Triads hang out in Macau casinos, and I've never seen a cheerful Triad. Given the fact that since 1999 Macau was no longer a Portuguese colony and was now one of the Special Administrative Regions of China, I could imagine that the inhabitants were not very happy. Like Hong Kong, Macau was now part of Communist China, even though the Chinese government promised that things would remain relatively the same for the next fifty years. It was still unclear what the colony's underworld was doing about the hand-over. During the twentieth century, Macau had developed a reputation as a hotbed of spies, vice, and intrigue.

I played a few games, lost a little money, gained some of it back, and then went to the washroom across from the broom closet I needed. I had memorized the building plans before the mission commenced. I could make my way around the casino blindfolded if I had to.

I slipped out of the washroom when I sensed no one was in the hallway and moved to the broom closet door. I had to use a lock pick to open it. Luckily, it wasn't a high-tech lock. After all, it really was just a broom closet.

Once I was inside, I locked the door and proceeded to remove the street clothes, revealing my funky superhero uniform underneath. I folded the clothes and tucked them neatly in the Osprey backpack. I donned the headpiece and was set to go. The change from Clark Kent to Superman had taken me about forty seconds.

I climbed a tool shelf to reach the ventilation shaft opening, gently pried off the grill cover, and hung it on a nail on the wall. I tested the strength of the structure to make sure it would hold my weight and then pulled myself in. I could just barely turn myself around to reach out, grab the grill cover, and fasten it back on the shaft from the inside. I did another about-face and crawled silently through the shaft until I came to a spot that was sufficient for a nap. And here I am.

I finish my meal and eat the digestible wrapper so I won't leave any trace of my being here. I doubt anyone is going to look inside the ventilation shaft, but one never knows. Time to act.

I crawl farther along the shaft, make the left turn I know is coming, go about twenty yards, hook a right, and then shimmy down a vertical drop for ten feet. On the next level the shaft goes in three directions. I tap the OPSAT for the compass mode just to confirm that the tunnel on my left is the westerly direction, and then I crawl that way. One more right turn and I can see the grill at the end of the shaft. The casino president's office.

I peer through the grill to make sure the office is dark and uninhabited. I carefully push the grill off but hold on to it. I don't want a loud clang when I drop it. I worm my upper body out of the shaft and gently place the grill behind a sofa directly beneath me. I then clutch the bottom of the shaft opening, roll my lower back and hips out, and somersault onto the carpeted floor. So far, so good.

I push the goggles over my eyes and switch on the night-vision mode. No need to turn on any lights and attract attention. Being quiet and invisible are the two main rules in my profession. Get the job done without being seen or noticed. If I'm caught, the U.S. government will deny any knowledge of my existence. I'd be on my own, in the hands of a foreign agency with no legal recourse or means of escape except with what I can manage to achieve with my body and mind. It's a test I don't particularly want to take, even though I've studied for it for years. There are always trick questions in that kind of test.

I go straight for the computer on the president's expansive mahogany desk, power it up, and tap my fingers impatiently while I wait for the system to load. When it asks for the password, I type in the one that Carly assured me would work-and sure enough, it does. Carly St. John is a wizard when it comes to technical shit. She can hack into any system, anywhere. And she can do it from her desk in Washington, D.C.

Using the Search function, I quickly find the folders I want. They contain files of payoff records to various organizations and individuals. I have to make sure these are separate from the legitimate casino expenses, and Carly has briefed me on how to tell the difference. Once again, the telltale flags she mentioned are there, so I know I'm in the right place.

I unzip the pouch on my left leg calf and remove a link that I insert into the computer's floppy drive. The other end I plug into my OPSAT. A touch of a few buttons and voilà-the files begin to copy onto my portable device. It takes only a minute or so.

As the OPSAT does its work, I think about Dan Lee, the Third Echelon man who was murdered in this casino three months ago. He was tracking illegal arms sales in China, and the trail led him here to Macau. The Shop, of course, are the guys doing the dealing. Before he was killed, Lee had given Lambert proof that the Tropical Casino's accounting department was being used as a front for the illegal transactions. Shutting down the Shop is one of our primary directives, and the only way to do it is to work from the outer ends of the pipelines back to the source. And there are lots of pipelines, all over the globe. Uncovering them is only half the battle. Now, with these files listing the Shop's customers in our possession, other U.S. agencies can act on closing this particular pipeline.

We still don't know exactly what happened to Dan Lee. A Chinese recruit, Lee had worked for the NSA for something like seven years. I never knew him personally-we never meet the other agents in Third Echelon-but I understand he was a stand-up guy. He did his job well and was a good man. Lambert thought that someone in the Shop had learned of his identity and lured him to the casino with information as bait. Lee never left the casino.

The OPSAT finishes the transfer just as I hear noise in the hallway outside. Shit. I pull the link out of the computer. Keys rattle in the door and I hear a voice followed by a laugh. There are two of them. I have no time to shut down the computer, but I hit the monitor's Off button.

I leap away from the desk and eye the distance to the ventilation shaft. The key turns in the lock. There's no time for that route. I scamper up a set of filing cabinets and press myself into the corner, my head against the ceiling. It's a difficult position to hold. I have to use my knee against the top of the filing cabinets to leverage myself while at the same time pushing with my arms on the two walls to anchor my body. It isn't comfortable. Just as I settle myself, the door opens. Maybe they won't notice me since I'm some four or five feet above their heads.

I recognize the first guy, the one with the keys. It's Kim Wei Lo, probably the mastermind behind the Shop's operation in Macau. He's on the wanted lists for all the three-letter agencies-you know, the CIA, the FBI, the NSA ... When the other guy turns slightly, I make him, too. He's Chen Wong, Lo's bodyguard. Wong is a big guy, but I've seen bigger. If it came down to a face-off, I'm pretty sure I could take him.

Lo hits one of the two light switches on the wall by the door. The fluorescents directly over the desk blink on. Thank God he didn't switch on the other one. My side of the room would've been showered with illumination. At least I'm still in the shadows. If they look up and focus on the back wall, corner and ceiling, they'll see me hanging there like a spider.

The two men go to the desk and Lo says something in Chinese. I catch the word "computer," so I figure he's wondering why someone didn't shut it down for the night. It doesn't bother him too much, though. He sits at the desk and begins to work while Wong paces slowly behind him, gazing out the large glass window that overlooks the main drag cutting through this poor excuse for a city. An urban area is a more appropriate term. As it's the middle of the night, there isn't much traffic or neon lights. I hope something will mesmerize him enough that he'll keep his back to me while I wait this out.

As a precaution, though, I mentally practice drawing my Five-seveN from where I am, but, ultimately, I don't think it's possible without falling to the floor. I have a directive not to kill anyone if I don't have to. Unfortunately, I've had to disobey that directive on numerous occasions. I don't like doing it, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

It's hot in the room. They must shut off the AC at night. Or maybe it's a ruse to get gamblers to buy more drinks. I'm dying to adjust the temperature in my uniform, but I don't dare move. I can feel the sweat building underneath my headpiece, and it's starting to trickle down my face.

Shit. Wong turns and walks aimlessly around the desk and heads my way. He's drawn his own pistol-it looks like a Smith & Wesson .38 from here-and he's twirling it in his hand, Western-style. He does an abrupt turn and faces a bookshelf. As he continues to twirl the gun, Wong scans the titles of the books. I guess the guy really can read.

Lo says something and Wong grunts in reply. He doesn't walk back to the desk, though, damn it. Instead, he moves away from the books and starts ambling toward the filing cabinets. All he has to do is glance up and he'll see me for sure.


Excerpted from Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell by Tom Clancy David Michaels Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See All Customer Reviews

Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell #1 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 233 reviews.
Cougar_H More than 1 year ago
Splinter Cell, written by David Michaels, is one of the better books I've read. I prefer a good, well written Non-Fiction book. Splinter Cell comes very close to meeting that standard. This book really spoke to me in the sense that the book demonstrates the danger and the disadvantages of being an undercover agent and the danger you put your family, friends, or your own life in. Like the scene in the book when Sam realizes that his daughter has been captured. I think that the author's purpose for writing this novel was to communicate the advantages and disadvantages of being an agent. In the novel, the author describes in extreme detail, Sam's OPSAT (Operational Satellite Uplink) in the beginning of the first chapter and demonstrates it very well. David shows his excellent skills in giving the reader a mental image of the scene or situation. The main theme of this mind blowing novel I believe was, "Family is more important than anything." Sam Fisher's life is perfect, he has a well paid job that he enjoys and the only downfall is that he can't tell anyone about it. Yet his perfect life is missing one important thing. Family, Sam is so involved with his work that he has no time to see his only daughter Sarah. Later in the novel, Sarah is captured by a terrorist group known as The Shadows. The Shadows is a terrorist group who wants revenge on Sam so they take his daughter to bait him to rescue her. This is a great book to read if you love a good mystery book, war novel, or a suspenseful story.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great book for mystery and action fans.
Erik Swanson More than 1 year ago
I love it! I can't wait to read the next one!
Guest More than 1 year ago
I had found this book written just like you were playing the video game. when I read the book it was exactly like a video game. action then talking, action then talking. I love to play this video game its so much fun. but the book was mainly the same as the video game. the last misson he does is always harder than his past misson. I would not recomend this book to a person who loves Tom Clancy.
Anonymous 3 months ago
Anonymous 5 months ago
The video game came out before the book series. Found it by chance. Love the first book of the series. It has a "Taken" feel to it. But this book was published before that movie. Im stoked that are FINALLY making a Splinter Cell movie.
jimmaclachlan on LibraryThing 8 months ago
Yuck. One of my earmarks for a crappy book is when they spend a lot of time listing the exact model & characteristics of every weapon a person carries. If you like the 'Death Land' series by Axler or the 'Executioner', you may like this. Not my cup of tea.
nm.fall07.w.lohmann on LibraryThing 10 months ago
this book is ok but a little harderone. the book is packed full of attion.i think that it is more focied toreds older boys and it is inipropret for littel kids. it has cuss words in it and that is why.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I'd want Sam on my side. He is part wizard.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good read...slightly this genre.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Tom Clancy as passed away like an year ago I believe. To all Tom Clancy fans there wont be anymore tom clancy series. And where the fuc did The Division come from? (Not saying that its a shet) and also to the idiots tha think the Tom Clanccy wrote this after the game, you guys are a pure dumb butt.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Throws a mortar bomb in exploding it
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book was good but I expect more though but very good any body who thinks its trash is trash and have no pashon for book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
These books are friggin nasty awesome and i can't beleive anyone would dis on them. O O O
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love the video games and I love Tom Clancy, I cant WAIT to read these books
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I here this book is good. GONNA BUY!!!!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Even the sample is great
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Love the game....but will i love the book?