Read Jack Ryan 10 - Rainbow Six for Free Online Page A

enough, Chavez decided.
    Security was tougher than Ding had expected. For the moment Rainbow HQ was at Hereford, headquarters of the British Army's 22nd Special Air Service Regiment. In fact, security was even tougher than it looked, because a man holding a weapon just looked like a man holding a weapon-from a distance you couldn't tell the difference between a rent-a-cop and a trained expert. On eyeballing one close, Ding decided these guys were the latter. They just had different eyes. The man who looked into his car earned himself a thoughtful nod, which was dutifully returned as he waved the car forward. The base looked like any other-the signs were different as was some of the spelling, but the buildings had closely trimmed lawns, and things just looked neater than in civilian areas. His car
ended up in officer country, by a modest but trim house, complete with a parking pad for a car Ding and Patsy didn't have yet. He noticed that John's car kept going another couple of blocks toward a larger house-well, colonels lived better than captains, and you couldn't beat the rent in any case. Ding opened the door, twisted out of the car, and headed for the trunk-excuse me, he thought, hoot-- to get their luggage moved in. Then came the first big surprise of this day.
    “Major Chavez?” a voice asked.
    “Uh, yeah?” Ding said, turning. Major? he wondered.
    “I'm Corporal Weldon. I'm your batman.” The corporal was much taller than Ding's five-feet-seven, and beefy-looking. The man bustled past his assigned officer and manhandled the bags out of the trunklboot, leaving Chavez with nothing more to do or say than, “Thanks, Corporal.”
    “Follow me, sir.” Ding and Patsy did that, too.
    Three hundred meters away, it was much the same for John and Sandy, though their staff was a sergeant and a corporal, the latter female, blond, and pretty in the paleskinned English way. Sandy's first impression of the kitchen was that British refrigerators were tiny, and that ooking in here would be something of an exercise in contortion. She was a little slow to catch on-a result of the air travel-that she'd touch an implement in this room only at the sufferance of Corporal Anne Fairway. The house wasn't quite as large as their home in Virginia, but would be quite sufficient.
    “Where's the local hospital?”
    “About six kilometers away, mum.” Fairway hadn't been briefed in on the fact that Sandy Clark was a highly trained ER nurse and would be taking a position in the Hospital.
    John checked out his study. The most impressive piece ,.f furniture was the liquor cabinet-well stocked, he saw, with Scotches and gins. He'd have to figure a way to get some decent bourbons. The computer was in place, tempested, he was sure, to make sure that people couldn't park a few hundred yards away and read what he was typing. Of course. getting that close would be a feat. The perimeter guards had struck John as competent. While his batman and -woman got his clothes squared away, John hopped into the shower. This would be a day of work for him. Twenty minutes later, wearing a blue pin-stripe suit, a white shirt, and a striped tie, he appeared at the front door, where an official car waited to whisk him off to his headquarters building.
    “Have fun, honey,” Sandy said, with a kiss.
    “You bet.”
    “Good morning, sir,” his driver said. Clark shook his hand and learned that his name was Ivor Rogers, and that he was a sergeant. The bulge at his right hip probably made him an MP. Damn, John thought, the Brits take their security seriously. But, then, this was the home of the SAS, probably not the most favorite unit of terrorists both inside and outside the UK. And the real professionals, the truly dangerous ones, were careful. thorough people. Just like nee. John Clark told himself.
    “We have to be careful. Extremely careful every step of the way.” That was no particular surprise to the others, was it? The good news was that they understood