"Timely Big-Brother thrills combine with roller-coaster pacing and a satisfying conclusion."--BooklistAbout the AuthorCHRISTOPHER REICH is the New York Times bestselling author of The Prince of Risk, Rules of Deception, Rules of Vengeance, Rules of Betrayal, Numbered Account, and The Runner. His novel The Patriots Club won the International Thriller Writers award for Best Novel in 2006. He lives in Encinitas, California.Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.1Felix will be there in ten.All clear?Nothing out here but tumbleweeds and horseshit.Welcome to Texas.Special Agent Joe Grant of the Federal Bureau of Investigation stared out the window of the Chevrolet Tahoe. The ground was barren, scrub sprouting here and there out of the dirt. Across the yard stood an old windmill, the kind with the tiller and the spoked wheel. Farther down the road he spied a telephone pole strung with wires. Beneath it sat the rusted carcass of an ancient tractor. He sighed. The place had probably looked the same in 1933.Stay back a ways once he pulls in. Dont want to spook him.Now youre even talking like a cowboy, said Fergus Keefe, a supervisory special agent from the Cyber Investigations Division and his colead on the case. That ought to go over big in D.C.Aint there yet.If half of what Felix says is true, this is your ticket to the show.Ill believe it when Im holding the plane ticket in my hand.Sacramentos the last stop, theyd promised him. Youll get to D.C. straight after that. But that was before Semaphore came around. Semaphore threw a wrench into everything. If he wasnt so good at his job, Joe thought, hed be in Washington right now, looking at the dome of the Capitol Building and giving briefings on the Hill. Instead he was parked in the questionable shade of a cedar tree on an abandoned cattle ranch smack dab in the middle of Texas Hill Country. D.C. might as well be on the far side of the moon.Felix is turning onto RR 3410, said Keefe.Roger that. Wait right there. He sees that dust behind him, theres no telling what hell do. Hes nervous enough as it is.Felix was the confidential informants code name. For Felix Unger, the OCD half of the Odd Couple.Im pulling over, said Keefe. Hes all yours. And dont take any chances.You think hes packing? Felix? A PhD from MIT? The guys annual 401(k) contribution is bigger than my entire salary.I prefer to think of him as a pill-popping drunk with two DUIs and a reckless endangerment under his belt.Point taken. Joe laid a hand on his Glock. Tell an agent to be careful and hes going to check that his piece is where it should bein Joes case, holstered on his waist, butt facing out for the cross draw. He forgot about the weapon and switched off his phone, staring at the picture of Jessie and Grace on his wallpaper. He ran a fingernail over their faces, but it didnt bring them any closer. Getting so big. He said it every time, just like he said hed be home more often and hed stop letting the job take precedence over his job as a father.Someday ... Joe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The exterior temperature gauge read 102, but it felt hotter. Across the yard a clump of tumbleweed rustled. He leaned forward, eyes glued to the windmill. Come on, he whispered. Give us a breeze. The windmill shuddered but did not turn.Times had changed. You didnt need a windmill to pump water out of the ground. And you sure as heck didnt need wires to send a voice from one person to another. Joe knew all about phones and cables and all things telecommunication. He knew more about digital technology than hed ever wanted to. Semaphore had taken care of that.Officially it was Operation Semaphore, and it had brought him to Austin two months earlier. For the record it was a routine transfer, a lateral move from Sacramento to shore up the Austin residencys glaring manpower shortage. He came billed as an agent who knew his way around municipal corruption cases, with a stint overseas policing piracy of intellectual property.But the record didnt say everything.There were rumors about a chronic inability to follow orders. People said that Joe Grant was a cowboy who left a trail of wreckage in his wake. They said that Austin was his last watering hole and that he couldnt retire soon enough. And whatever you do, dont partner up with him.The rumors were bullshitdisinformation designed to give him leeway to act on his own. No one knew about Semaphore except Joe, Keefe, and the task force in D.C.The sound of an engine made him sit up straighter. He caught a flash of red in the rearview. It was Felixs Ferrari. Joe believed the model was called a LaFerrari, and it retailed for a cool million five. It was also the most conspicuous car on the face of the planet. He felt certain the boys up in the space station could see it right now with just their eyes.Felix parked close behind Joes car. A scrawny man with a mop of dark hair climbed out and hurried over. The door opened and Felix slid into the seat, eyes bugging, sweat rolling down his forehead. Youre going to need a bigger boat, he said.Relax, said Joe. Were safe here.Safe. Yeah, right. You got no idea. Felix spun and peered over his shoulder. His eyes were red-rimmed and sagging with fatigue. He might have just pulled an all-nighter banging out code at the office, but Felix didnt bang out code anymore. Felixs real name was Hal Stark, and Stark was senior vice president for special projects at ONE Technologies, the biggest tech company in the United States. ONE was a player in everything: software, hardware, online sales, wireless communications; a gargantuan cross of Oracle, Google, Cisco, and ATT.Why dont you take a breath, chill for a second. Then you can give me an idea. Joe pulled a pack of Juicy Fruit from his pocket. A stick of gum makes you hum.Whats that from?What movie? I dont know. My wife says it sometimes. Have a stick.Stark pulled out two and folded the chewing gum into a double-thick square before ramming it into his mouth. A moment later he was checking over his shoulder again.Joe lowered both windows. Hear that?What? I dont hear anything.Exactly. This is Dripping Springs. Austin is twenty-five miles in the other direction. No ones on your tail. Weve been watching you the whole way out. You didnt bring your phone, did you?What do you think?Okay, then. We checked your car earlier. Its clean. As far as anyone knows or cares, you left the office for a doctors appointment. Youre safe.All right, then. I believe you. Im safe.Joe put a hand on Starks shoulder. You have any problem getting it out?Stark pepped up. They didnt take a second look. The security guard had it right there in his hand. He had no idea he was holding the crown jewels.What did I tell you? Joe looked at the Ferraris nose in his rearview mirror. Is there anything about that car thats inconspicuous?Thats the point, said Stark. Nothings run-of-the-mill on that car.Anyway, thank you, Hal. On behalf of the United States government, we are grateful. Now give me the goods, let me tape you swearing that you downloaded the information of your own free will, and well cut you loose. No one will ever learn about your cooperation.My ass, said Stark. What about you? You get the DUIs off my record?Expunged is the word, said Joe. And yes, both have been expunged from your record.That was cheap, said Stark. Preying on a mans weaknesses like that.A guy like you cant afford to hire a driver? Thats the second time you were popped in the past twelve months. And next time make sure your date isnt a minor.The DUI was their way in, the chink in the enemys armor. Stark was right. It was cheap, but Joe had to use what he was given. Hed yet to meet an informant who volunteered his services of his own free will.The pressure, said Stark. You have no idea. Hes relentless. Always more. Always better. Always faster. Hes not human, I swear it. Hes some kind of superman. No ... a supermachine. Men have feelings. He says hes beyond feeling. Hes proud of it. He says hes becoming. Can you believe that? Becoming what?Okay, Hal. Lets calm down. Just begin at the beginning. Youll feel better once its off your chest.And you expunged the felony, too?Yes, Joe said. He had.Hal Stark sat up straighter. All right, then, the first thing you need to know is that you dont know the half of it. What you guys foundthe reason you came after methats the tip of the iceberg ... no, no ... the tip of the tip.Joe took this in without comment. He felt the hackles on his neck stand up as they always did when he was about to get the goods. Go on.The incursion ... well, you know that wasnt the first time, dont you?The incursion referred to a hack of the FBIs mainframe eight months earlier that had triggered the red flags and gotten Semaphore off the ground.Of course, Joe lied. Exactly how long has it been going on?Stark laughed. You didnt know. Well, like I said, hes a supermachine. Amazing you found it in the first place.Were no slouches ourselves.You might want to reserve comment until Im done.Joe looked away, drawn by the rustling of the large tumbleweed. Finally a breeze. He glanced at the windmill, but the wheel didnt budge. He looked back and the tumbleweed was still.What is it? asked Stark.Nothing, said Joe. Keep going.Its all about the company we just bought. The one that caused all the headlines.Merriweather, said Joe.Yeah, it builds the fastest supercomputer in the world, called Titan. Hes got plans for it. Stark shook his head. You wont believe it.Were going to need a bigger boat.You sure as hell are, said Stark.Joe kept his eyes on the tumbleweed. He decided the heat was playing tricks on him. Nothing moved without wind pushing it. There was no wind, so the tumbleweed couldnt have inched closer. He razzed himself for being paranoid. Once a sniper, always a sniper. Dripping Springs was not Iraq. Smiling, he looked back at Stark and saw it: a thin column of dust rising into the air five hundred yards behind them. Someone was approaching on the inbound road.Everything okay? asked Stark.Shut up. Joe picked up his phone. Boots, that you?Boots was Keefes nickname, earned God knows how or when.No one responded.Boots, come back.Stark turned halfway around in his seat to peer out the back window.Get down, said Joe, as he drew his weapon and thumbed the safety off.Whats going on? asked Stark, eyes locked on the pistol. I thought you said no one followed me.Joe started the car. Buckle your seat belt. The ride may get a little bumpy.Stark muttered something, then elbowed the door open and threw himself out of the car.Get back here, said Joe.I can take care of myself.Get inside.Stark looked around the clearing. Government never protected anyone. I can take care of myself.Give me the drive.Go screw yourself. I was an idiot to trust you.Hal!Im out of here. Stark took a step toward his car, then hopped back toward Joe. Hey, he said, I got it. Where that line about the gum cameStarks head exploded in a spray of blood and brain and he dropped to the ground.Joe caught a muzzle flash from inside the tumbleweed. No rifle report. A sniper like him.Desperately he slammed the Tahoe into drive. The windshield shattered. He threw himself flat onto the seat and a second bullet struck his headrest. He drove blindly for a few seconds, then raised his head. A bullet hit the steering wheel, cracking it. Another hit the engine block. Steam escaped from beneath the hood. The car ground to a halt.Joe lay still. His phone had fallen into the footwell. He picked it up and dialed. Answer, he whispered feverishly. Pick up. Please.He heard a car stop behind him. Doors opening. Male voices. The unmistakable metal crunch of a clip being loaded into an automatic weapon.Joe held the phone to his ear. Come on. Pick up.The phone answered. Hi. This is Mary. I cant take your call right now, but if you leave a message, Ill get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day.Joe closed his eyes. Babe ... where are you?2Not today, Mary Grant whispered, grasping the steering wheel harder. Do not make me late today.It was four oclock, and traffic on Mopac was blocked solid as far as she could see. Rush hour started early in Austin.Everyone doing okay? she asked, looking over her shoulder.Grace gazed out the window, sipping her Sonic limeade, her thoughts a million miles away. Jessie sat beside her, headphones on, eyes glued to Marys phone, fingers ferociously tapping away.Jess, hon, what are you doing with Moms phone? asked Mary.Jessie didnt answer.She can hear you, said Grace. She just doesnt feel like answering.Whats she doing?I dont know. Probably Instagramming.Mary watched Jessies fingers go pat-pat-pat on the glass surface. More like writing an article for the encyclopedia, she thought. She could feel the throbbing bass of the music assaulting her teenage daughters eardrums, an angry voice shouting something she knew shed rather not understand. Jessie?The cars in front of them began to move, and Mary forgot about the phone. She drove fifty yards before traffic came to another halt. At this rate theyd be lucky to make it home by five.Today was her and Joes seventeenth anniversary. Mary couldnt quite believe it. All those clichs about the years going by too fast turned out to be true. She glanced in the mirror. Her eyes were a little more tired, her skin not as taut as it once was, but if she smiled and kept her features alive, she did a pretty good job of keeping the years at bay. Shed even managed to lose six pounds so she could fit into her favorite little black dress. One hundred twenty-five pounds wasnt bad for a five-foot-four-inch, thirty-nine-year-old mother of two.She began to think about the night ahead. A dirty martini at the hotel bar to get things started. Dinner at Sullivans. There was no stopping her once she set foot in a good steakhouse. She couldnt just have the steak. She needed all the trimmings. Creamed spinach, garlic mashed potatoes, and a big ol wedge of chilled iceberg lettuce with plenty of blue cheese dressing. She wondered how she would fit into her dress after eating a bone-in cowboy rib eye. are public domain books free Invasion of Privacy
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful. A great rideBy Steven MeiselReich writes a very entertaining style of financial/business thriller and Invasion of Privacy is no exception. As would be expected, the basic premise of the book is somewhat preposterous and the characters lack depth or realism. In many genres or styles, those characteristics would portend a cartoonish and dull book. But I found Invasion of Privacy to be very engaging, a rapid read, and full of enough twist and turns to keep me at the edge of my seat. This is a good selection for the beach, an airplane, or a rainy weekend. Don't expect fine literature but do expect to be well entertained.2 of 2 people found the following review helpful. An enjoyable readBy J McIverThis book is a departure from Reich's previous entrees which are typically more complex but nonetheless is an enjoyable read. As usual, he peppers the reader with excellent perspective on technical innovation and does an excellent job in building an integrated story with proper pacing of characters and their experiences. It is interesting to observe his transition as an author from the extremely detailed early novels at the inter phase of finance, technology, and geopolitical intrigue which were very complex and time consuming to this latest book which will appeal to the masses as it can be consumed more readily by all. It clearly demonstrates his versatility as an author.0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Fast paced, digital adventureBy Sanjay SrivatsaFast read, sometimes seemingly incredulous, but in reality...its possible. We live in a highly exposed environment where someone with money, power and political clout, could give armageddon a new definition. Reich maintains his craft of keeping his books page turners. The unseeming protagonist here sends a clear message...dont mess with Mom!