Dark Ambition

 

 

 

 

 

Dark Ambition

A Novel

 

by

 

Allan Topol

National Bestselling Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

ISBN: 978-1-61417-129-4

 

Published by
ePublishing Works!

www.epublishingworks.com

 

 

Without limiting the rights under copyright(s) reserved above and below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

 

Please Note

 

This is a work of fiction.
 
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law.
 
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
 
Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

 

Copyright © Allan Topal, 2003, 2011

 

Cover design by Victor Mingovits

 

eBook design by eBook Prep
www.ebookprep.com

 

Thank You
.

 

 

 

"John Grisham and Richard North Patterson may have a new successor in Topol...As entertaining as it is complex, this energetic narrative is loaded with close calls and compelling relationships." ~
Publishers Weekly

 

"Plotwise, Topol is up there with such masters of the labyrinthine, as Robert Ludlum and Tom Clancy." ~
Washington Post

 

By Allan Topol

 

Fiction

 

The Fourth of July War

A Woman of Valor

Spy Dance

Dark Ambition

Conspiracy

Enemy of My Enemy

 

~

 

Non Fiction

 

Co-Author of
Superfund Law and Procedure

 

 

 

Dedication

 

This book is dedicated to my wife, Barbara...

My partner in this literary adventure.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Jeb Hines saw a man in a trench coat walking from the bottom of the cul de sac. A typical Washington lawyer, Hines thought contemptuously. The city would be a helluva lot better if half of them—no, make that three-fourths—were buried at the bottom of the Potomac River. This one had a suit and tie under his dirty Burberry coat, black horn-rimmed glasses, and a briefcase. On his head he wore a flat round gray cap that made him look effeminate.

Hines had been an agent in the U.S. State Department's Office of Diplomatic Security one week, and already he hated it. Having spent four years as a part of the Secret Service detail that guarded the President, he had jumped at the State Department job, which promised higher pay and frequent travel around the world as part of Secretary of State Robert Winthrop's personal entourage. Too late, Hines realized he had been better off in his former job. At least when the President was at home, he could lounge in the warmth of the White House. Now he was sentenced to spending most of his time on Linean Court, in front of the Secretary's house, as he was on this Saturday in mid-November with a bitter west wind whipping through the trees.

A rustling noise behind him caused Hines to wheel around quickly. Yet it was only Clyde Gillis, the Winthrops' gardener, struggling with another huge pile of leaves hauled on a piece of burlap. His black forehead was dotted with perspiration that made the scar above his left eye glisten. Gillis unloaded the pile into the back of his track. When the burlap was empty, Gillis tossed it over his shoulder and trudged wearily toward the backyard. Jesus, that fucker works hard, Hines thought. Gillis had been raking nonstop for almost three hours, dressed only in a blue denim shirt and jeans.

Hines tapped on the window of the navy Ford Crown Vic to get the attention of Chris MacDonald, his partner, sitting inside to warm up, while studying the sports page of the morning
Washington Post.
With a yellow legal pad in his hand, MacDonald stuck his head up out of the car.

"Hey, Mac, it must be the Secretary's two o'clock," Hines said.

Mac scanned the first page of the pad, which had the secretary's schedule for the day. The only visitor for this afternoon was at two o'clock. "George Nesbitt, State Department business."

"So what did you decide about tomorrow's game?" Hines asked.

"I'll take the Skins and ten and a half."

"Dallas is only a seven-point favorite."