The Deceivers Alex Berenson by Alex Berenson 9780698407534, 9780399176166, 0698407539, 0399176160 instant download after payment.

**THE** NEW YORK TIMES **BESTSELLER**Interfering with the presidential election was just the first step.**The Russians don't just want to influence American elections--they want it all. Former CIA agent John Wells confronts a plot of astonishing audacity as** New York Times **-bestselling author Alex Berenson goes beyond today's headlines to tomorrow's all-too-real threats**.*It was supposed to be a terrorist sting. The guns were supposed to be disabled. Then why was there so much blood?*The target was the American Airlines Center, the home of the Dallas Mavericks. The FBI had told Ahmed Shakir that his drug bust would go away if he helped them, and they'd supply all the weaponry, carefully removing the firing pins before the main event. It never occurred to Ahmed to doubt them, until it was too late.When John Wells is called to Washington, he's sure it's to investigate the carnage in Dallas, but it isn't. The former CIA director, now president, Vinnie Duto has plenty of people working in Texas. He wants Wells to go to Colombia. An old asset there has information to share--and it will lead Wells to the deadliest mission of his life, an extraordinary confluence of sleeper cells, sniper teams, false flag operations, double agents high in the U.S. government--and a Russian plot to take over the government itself. If it succeeds, what happened in Texas will be only a prelude.### Review**Praise for** The Deceivers“Smart, prescient, and harrowing…‘The Manchurian Candidate’ for a new generation.”— *Providence Journal*"The fantastic plot, character development and action are insidiously riveting.”— *Connecticut Day*“[T]imely...Berenson’s knowledge of geopolitical issues and government intelligence strategies impresses.”— *Publishers Weekly * “Another enjoyable entry.” *—* *Kirkus Reviews* **“Combin[es] former reporter Berenson’s always-shrewd grasp of international politics with his equally impressive ability to construct involved stories whose convolutions never interrupt the full-throttle narrative drive....Another wonderful suspense novel that leaves readers shuddering with the realization that this isn’t nearly as unbelievable as it should be.”* — ** Booklist* (starred review)“An electrifying thriller that's not to be missed.” *—The Real Book Spy***### Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.**1**Columbus, GeorgiaThe Waffle House lay on Victory Drive, close by Commando Military Supply and the gates to Fort Benning, the two-hundred-eighty-square-mile base where the Army made soldiers into Rangers. John Wells remembered the restaurant from his own training, more than two decades before.Back then, he’d still basically been a Montana boy. He’d come to Dartmouth for college, been shocked by the superior attitude so many East Coast kids put on. But Georgia had held its own surprises. At least Montana and New Hampshire both had mountains, even if the Bitterroots were bigger. Down here, the land was slap flat and swamp-cut.Anyway, as far as Wells could tell, the Waffle House hadn’t changed. Not the waitresses, not the plastic booths, maybe not the fryer grease.The Ranger instructors eating one booth over looked the same, too. Square-jawed and narrow-eyed. Mostly white. Maybe a few more tattoos. They shoveled scrambled eggs in their mouths like they were machines for the ingestion of food. Cut, chew, swallow. Cut, chew, swallow. Wash it all down with the black liquid that Waffle House called coffee. They were almost too tired to speak, Wells saw.Though not as tired as the soldiers they were training. Nothing in peacetime replicated combat, but Ranger School tried. *Rangers lead the way,* the unit’s motto went. The training program was meant to weed out any soldier who couldn’t. It was famously tough, especially at the beginning. Candidates were deprived of sleep and food while facing timed marches and the Darby Queen, a barbed-wire-studded obstacle course. Soldiers qualified through airborne training and a four-week starter course before they even had a chance at Fort Benning. Still, about sixty percent failed. Many who did pass had to repeat at least one part of the three-phase program.Not Wells. He’d gone through in the minimum sixty-two days. He was made for soldiering. Not just because he was strong and lean and quick. Because he knew intuitively how to survive, to narrow his focus. Not to think ahead, not to promise himself that he’d get through this day or week but simply to *get through*.A most un-Buddhist form of mindfulness.So Wells went from Dartmouth to the Rangers, the Rangers to the Central Intelligence Agency, Langley to the Hindu Kush, the Kush back to the United States. Only the start of his travels. Two decades of spying and fighting, killing and not quite dying. He’d resigned from the agency but discovered he needed it as much as it seemed to need him. He’d become a Muslim, too, finding comfort, of sorts, in a faith not his own. And why not? All faiths were foreign in the end, walks through dark woods.Had he changed? He supposed he must have. From the start, he’d been unafraid to kill, to take what he could never give back. Yet his dreams troubled him more than they once had—