Executive Orders

874 pages. Bon état Couv. convenable Intérieur acceptable In-8 Carré Relié A Jack RYAN novel.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

 

Chapter 1 - STARTING NOW

Chapter 2 - PRE-DAWN

Chapter 3 - SCRUTINY

Chapter 4 - OJT

Chapter 5 - ARRANGEMENTS

Chapter 6 - EVALUATION

Chapter 7 - PUBLIC IMAGE

Chapter 8 - CHANGE OF COMMAND

Chapter 9 - DISTANT HOWLS

Chapter 10 - POLITICS

Chapter 11 - MONKEYS

Chapter 12 - PRESENTATION

Chapter 13 - TO THE MANNER BORN

Chapter 14 - BLOOD IN THE WATER

Chapter 15 - DELIVERIES

Chapter 16 - THE IRAQI TRANSFER

Chapter 17 - THE REVIVAL

Chapter 18 - LAST PLANE OUT

Chapter 19 - RECIPES

Chapter 20 - NEW ADMINISTRATIONS

Chapter 21 - RELATIONSHIPS

Chapter 22 - TIME ZONES

Chapter 23 - EXPERIMENTS

Chapter 24 - ON THE FLY

Chapter 25 - BLOOMS

Chapter 26 - WEEDS

Chapter 27 - RESULTS

Chapter 28 - . . . BUT A WHIMPER

Chapter 29 - FULL COURT

Chapter 30 - PRESS

Chapter 31 - RIPPLES AND WAVES

Chapter 32 - RERUNS

Chapter 33 - REBOUNDS

Chapter 34 - WWW.TERROR.ORG

Chapter 35 - OPERATIONAL CONCEPT

Chapter 36 - TRAVELERS

Chapter 37 - DISCHARGES

Chapter 38 - GRACE PERIOD

Chapter 39 - FACE TIME

Chapter 40 - OPENINGS

Chapter 41 - HYENAS

Chapter 42 - PREDATOR/PREY

Chapter 43 - RETREAT

Chapter 44 - INCUBATION

Chapter 45 - CONFIRMATION

Chapter 46 - OUTBREAK

Chapter 47 - INDEX CASE

Chapter 48 - HEMORRHAGE

Chapter 49 - REACTION TIME

Chapter 50 - SPECIAL REPORT

Chapter 51 - INVESTIGATIONS

Chapter 52 - SOMETHING OF VALUE

Chapter 53 - SNIE

Chapter 54 - FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

Chapter 55 - COMMENCEMENT

Chapter 56 - DEPLOYMENT

Chapter 57 - NIGHT PASSAGE

Chapter 58 - THE LIGHT OF DAY

Chapter 59 - RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

Chapter 60 - BUFORD

Chapter 61 - GRIERSON’S RIDE

Chapter 62 - READY AND FORWARD!

Chapter 63 - THE RYAN DOCTRINE

 

EPILOGUE:

“Jack’s back. With a vengeance.”

—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

 

“A colossal read.”

 

—Los Angeles Times

EXECUTIVE ORDERS

At the climax of Debt of Honor, a devastating terrorist act leaves the President, the Joint Chiefs, the Supreme Court, and nearly all of Congress dead. Only Jack Ryan, confirmed Vice President mere minutes before, survived to take the reins of a shaken and leaderless country. Now he must rebuild a government, comfort a grieving nation, and become a true leader. Meanwhile, he is surrounded by enemies—both inside the White House and around the world—all of them plotting to destroy an untested President. And bring an already-wounded country to its knees. . .

 

 

 

 

“A wild ride.”

—San Francisco Chronicle

 

“An enormous, action-packed,
heat-seeking missile of a Tom Clancy novel.”

—The Seattle Times

Novels by Tom Clancy

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER
RED STORM RISING
PATRIOT GAMES
THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN
CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER
THE SUM OF ALL FEARS
WITHOUT REMORSE
DEBT OF HONOR
EXECUTIVE ORDERS
RAINBOW SIX
THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON
RED RABBIT
THE TEETH OF THE TIGER

 

SSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE

 

 

Nonfiction

 

SUBMARINE: A GUIDED TOUR INSIDE A NUCLEAR WARSHIP
ARMORED CAV: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN ARMORED CAVALRY REGIMENT
FIGHTER WING: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIR FORCE COMBAT WING
MARINE: A GUIDED TOUR OF A MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT
AIRBORNE: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRBORNE TASK FORCE
CARRIER: A GUIDED TOUR OF AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER
SPECIAL FORCES: A GUIDED TOUR OF U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES

 

INTO THE STORM: A STUDY IN COMMAND
(written with General Fred Franks, Jr., Ret., and Tony Koltz)
EVERY MAN A TIGER
(written with General Charles Horner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)
SHADOW WARRIORS: INSIDE THE SPECIAL FORCES
(written with General Carl Stiner, Ret., and Tony Koltz)
BATTLE READY
(written with General Tony Zinni, Ret., and Tony Koltz)

 

Created by Tom Clancy

 

TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL
TOM CLANCY’S SPLINTER CELL: OPERATION BARRACUDA

 

 

Created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik

TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MIRROR IMAGE
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: GAMES OF STATE
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: ACTS OF WAR
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: BALANCE OF POWER
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: STATE OF SIEGE
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: DIVIDE AND CONQUER
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: LINE OF CONTROL
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: MISSION OF HONOR
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: SEA OF FIRE
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: CALL TO TREASON
TOM CLANCY’S OP-CENTER: WAR OF EAGLES

 

TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: HIDDEN AGENDAS
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: NIGHT MOVES
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: BREAKING POINT
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: POINT OF IMPACT
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CYBERNATION
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: STATE OF WAR
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: CHANGING OF THE GUARD
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: SPRINGBOARD
TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: THE ARCHIMEDES EFFECT

 

 

Created by Tom Clancy and Martin Greenberg

TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: POLITIKA
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: RUTHLESS.COM
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: SHADOW WATCH
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: BIO-STRIKE
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: COLD WAR
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: CUTTING EDGE
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: ZERO HOUR
TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS: WILD CARD

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.

 

EXECUTIVE ORDERS

 

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with Jack Ryan Limited Partnership

 

 

Copyright © 1996 by Jack Ryan Limited Partnership.

 

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher 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.

For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

ISBN: 9781101002353

 

BERKLEY®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY and the “B” design are trademarks
belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

TO
RONALD WILSON REAGAN,
FORTIETH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES:
THE MAN WHO WON THE WAR

In the original hardcover edition of Without Remorse are the words of a poem which I found by accident and whose title and author I was unable to identify. I found in them the perfect remembrance for my “little buddy,” Kyle Haydock, who succumbed to cancer at the age of eight years and twenty-six days—to me he will never really be gone.

Later I learned that the title of this poem is “Ascension,” and that the author who penned these magnificent words is Colleen Hitchcock, a poet of rare talent living in Minnesota. I wish to take this opportunity to commend her work to all students of the lyric phrase. As her words caught and excited my attention, I hope they will have the same effect on others.

The poem reads as follows:

Ascension

And if I go,
while you’re still here. . .
Know that I live on,
vibrating to a different measure
-behind a thin veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me,
so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can soar together again,
-both aware of each other.
Until then, live your life to its fullest.
And when you need me,
Just whisper my name in your heart,
. . .I will be there.

 

© 1989 Colleen Corah Hitchcock
Spirit Art International, Inc.
P.O. Box 39082
Edina, Minnesota 55439
U.S.A.

I pray Heaven to bestow the best of blessings on this house and on all that shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof.

 

 

JOHN ADAMS, SECOND PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES LETTER TO ABIGAIL, NOVEMBER 2, 1800, ON MOVING INTO THE WHITE HOUSE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Again, I needed a lot of help:
Peggy, for some valued insights;
Mike, Dave, John, Janet, Curt, and Pat
at the Johns Hopkins Hospital;
Fred and his pals at the USSS;
Pat, Darrell, and Bill, all repeat offenders at the FBI;
Fred and Sam, men who’ve honored the uniform with their service;
H. R., Joe, Dan, and Doug, who still do.
America is because of people like this.

PROLOGUE:

STARTING HERE

IT HAD TO BE THE SHOCK of the moment, Ryan thought. He seemed to be two people at the same time. One part of him looked out the window of the lunchroom of CNN’s Washington bureau and saw the fires that grew from the remains of the Capitol building—yellow points springing up from an orange glow like some sort of ghastly floral arrangement, representing over a thousand lives that had been snuffed out not an hour earlier. Numbness suppressed grief for the moment, though he knew that would come, too, as pain always followed a hard blow to the face, but not right away. Once more, Death in all its horrid majesty had reached out for him. He’d seen it come, and stop, and withdraw, and the best thing to be said about it was that his children didn’t know how close their young lives had come to an early conclusion. To them, it had simply been an accident they didn’t understand. They were with their mother now, and they’d feel safe in her company while their father was away somewhere. It was a situation to which both they and he long since had unhappily become accustomed. And so John Patrick Ryan looked at the residue of Death, and one part of him as yet felt nothing.

The other part of him looked at the same sight and knew that he had to do something, and though he struggled to be logical, logic wasn’t winning, because logic didn’t know what to do or where to start.

“Mr. President.” It was the voice of Special Agent Andrea Price.

“Yes?” Ryan said without turning away from the window. Behind him—he could see the reflections in the window glass—six other Secret Service agents stood with weapons out to keep the others away. There had to be a score of CNN employees outside the door, gathered together partly from professional interest—they were newspeople, after all—but mostly from simple human curiosity at being face-to-face with a moment in history. They were wondering what it looked like to be there, and didn’t quite get the fact that such events were the same for everyone. Whether presented with an auto accident or a sudden grave illness, the unprepared human mind just stopped and tried to make sense of the senseless—and the graver the test, the harder the recovery period. But at least people trained in crisis had procedures to fall back upon.

“Sir, we have to get you to—”

“Where? A place of safety? Where’s that?” Jack asked, then quietly reproached himself for the cruelty of the question. At least twenty agents were part of the pyre a mile away, all of them friends of the men and women standing in the lunchroom with their new President. He had no right to transfer his discomfort to them. “My family?” he asked after a moment.

“The Marine Barracks, Eighth and I streets, as you ordered, sir.”

Yes, it was good for them to be able to report that they’d carried out orders, Ryan thought with a slow nod. It was also good for him to know that his orders had been carried out. He had done one thing right, anyway. Was that something to build on?

“Sir, if this was part of an organized—”

“It wasn’t. They never are, Andrea, are they?” President Ryan asked. He was surprised how tired his voice sounded, and reminded himself that shock and stress were more tiring than the most strenuous exercise. He didn’t even seem to have the energy to shake his head and clear it.

“They can be,” Special Agent Price pointed out.

Yes, I suppose she’s right. “So what’s the drill for this?”

“Kneecap,” Price replied, meaning the National Emergency Airborne Command Post, a converted 747 kept at Andrews Air Force Base. Jack thought about the suggestion for a moment, then frowned.

“No, I can’t run away. I think I have to go back there.” President Ryan pointed to the glow. Yes, that is where I belong, isn’t it?

“No, sir, that’s too dangerous.”

“That’s my place, Andrea.”

He’s already thinking like a politician, Price thought, disappointed.

Ryan saw the look on her face and knew he’d have to explain. He’d learned something once, perhaps the only thing that applied at this moment, and the thought had appeared in his mind like a flashing highway sign. “It’s a leadership function. They taught me that at Quantico. The troops have to see you doing the job. They have to know you’re there for them.” And I have to be sure that it’s all real, that I actually am the President.

Was he?

The Secret Service thought so. He’d sworn the oath, spoken the words, invoked the name of God to bless his effort, but it had all been too soon and too fast. Hardly for the first time in his life, John Patrick Ryan closed his eyes and willed himself to awaken from this dream that was just too improbable to be real, and yet when he opened his eyes again the orange glow was still there, and the leaping yellow flames. He knew he’d spoken the words—he’d even given a little speech, hadn’t he? But he could not remember a single word of it now.

Let’s get to work, he’d said a minute earlier. He did remember that. An automatic thing to say. Did it mean anything?

Jack Ryan shook his head—it seemed a major accomplishment to do even that—then turned away from the window to look directly at the agents in the room.

“Okay. What’s left?”

“Secretaries of Commerce and Interior,” Special Agent Price responded, having been updated by her personal radio. “Commerce is in San Fran...