Don Pendleton - Critical Effect

A knock sounded at the door of his makeshift office. “Come in.”

The door swung open to admit Mukhtar Tarif and his pair of bodyguards. He never seemed to go anywhere without them. The bodyguards tried to look imposing, menacing, but to a man of Burke’s size and physical prowess they were a joke. Burke possessed the physique of his father, but he’d inherited his brains from his late mother. Liesl Burke had served as a nuclear power engineer and consultant to the government of Luxembourg. She’d held a degree in nuclear physics, and many colleagues had considered her one of the most innovative and brilliant scientists in her field. Then cancer took hold and ravaged her body, eventually overtaking not only her life but her beloved career.

Liesl Burke also left behind a saddened ten-year-old boy.

Sworn to model his life after that of his mother’s, Burke excelled in his studies. By sixteen he’d been wooed by the finest universities in Germany but eventually he set his heart on the study of particle physics. He spent several years at the CERN Laboratory in Geneva. That later proved extremely valuable in gaining knowledge of the Hadron magnets used in the LHC project, and ultimately proved instrumental in understanding the Low Altitude Military Platform brainchild of the British RAF.

Mukhtar Tarif dropped into the straight-backed metal chair in front of Burke and propped his feet on the desk. Young and impetuous, the terrorist leader had treated Burke with impunity and disrespect nearly from the beginning of their relationship. Burke had only tolerated it because of his belief in the GFR and his steadfast ideology that the needs of his organization far exceeded those of any individual, including its founder. Such idealism had earned him the respect of every member in the organization, and he didn’t intend to sacrifice their loyalty on what amounted to little more than ego.

“I’m told you needed to speak to me,” Tarif announced in flawless German. He’d mastered the language in one of the terrorist training camps sponsored by al Qaeda deep in the mountains of Afghanistan. “What do you want?”

“I want to know exactly what kind of a fool you think I am,” Burke replied in a no-nonsense tone. “You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t find out about Delmico?”

“On the contrary, I knew you would find out. He is no longer of any concern to you.”

“I will judge what’s of concern to me and what isn’t.”

The effect of the implicit warning in Burke’s voice became evident with the dangerous hue visible in Tarif’s expression. “That sounded much to me like a threat, Mr. Burke.”

“Take it as you like,” Burke replied with a smile. “But Dr. Delmico is my contact, and I want him released unharmed. Immediately.”

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