Wallace Mahoney was officially dead—of suspicious causes on an Israeli airliner. His son, John, saw his corpse—and vowed vengeance on whomever had killed the most brilliant operative the CIA had ever had. That was the beginning. Before the global terror trip reached its bloody climax, John Mahoney would discover that in the world of undercover savagery, both U.S. and Russia faced a foe even more powerful than each other. No one could be trusted and nothing was what it seemed. Not even death.