Net Force by Tom Clancy

agents. They looked the part, even the Snake.
        “All right. Let us go.”
        Ruzhyo and Grigory the Snake alighted from the car and started across the street.
        The bodyguards noticed them immediately. One of the guards said something to Sampson, who paused in picking his teeth, looked at the approaching men and grinned. He laughed and said something to his men. Ruzhyo could not hear, but he had an idea of what it might be. These men would have no love for their own federal authorities.
        As Ruzhyo and the Snake drew near to the trio, Sampson said, “Good afternoon, boys. You guys’re with the Bureau, right?” He smiled at the two guards, to show how adept he was at recognizing federal agents.
        This was exactly as Plekhanov and Ruzhyo had planned.
        Give people something close to what they expected and they would fool themselves, you did not need to say a word.
        Ruzhyo affected the flat Midwestern American accent he had practiced. “Luigi Sampson? I’m Special Agent Arnold, this is Special Agent Johnson.” He held his badge case up in his left hand to show the ID card and badge just as real agents did, always keeping their weapon hand clear. He nodded at the Snake, who glared at the bodyguards.
        While their IDs were fake, the names were not-Agents Arnold and Johnson were assigned to the New York office. “We’d like you to come with us and answer a few questions.”
        “Sure thing, boys.” To the nearer guard, Sampson said, “Verification?”
        The bodyguard had a small computer flatscreen he tapped commands into. After a beat, he said, “They’re on the list.”
        “Call the lawyers and the boss. Tell ‘em.” Sampson flicked the toothpick into the air with his thumb and middle finger. “Third floor of the Federal Plaza, right?”
        “That’s the twenty-third floor, Mr. Sampson. You’ve been there before,” Ruzhyo said.
        Sampson’s grin increased. He thought his crude test was enough. He was a fool, more so for believing he was clever. Wise men always left room for new things; fools thought they knew it all already. “Always glad to help out my government. Let’s go.”
        In the back section of the car with the Snake, Sampson said, “So, what’s it all about, boys?”
        As Winters pulled away, Ruzhyo noted one of the bodyguards step into the street to make a note of their vehicle’s license number. Good. He looked at Sampson. “You work for the Genaloni crime family. You have personally killed six men, and ordered the deaths of more than a dozen others. You and your ilk are responsible for drugs on the streets, prostitution, smuggling, gambling, other illegal activities too many to list.”
        “Whoa! That’s slander, Agent, ‘cause it ain’t true. I’m a security man for a legitimate company. Better be careful what you say-you could get sued, you know. Our lawyers don’t have enough to do.”
        “You are criminal scum,” Ruzhyo said. “And you will pay for it very soon.”
        Sampson laughed. “Good luck proving it, pal. Better men than you have tried.” He leaned back into the seat, his face going hard. “I’ll be back on the street in time for dinner.”
        “You will not,” Ruzhyo said.
        “Yeah? Well, you’re stupid if you think that.”
        “No. You are the stupid one- you believe we are with the FBI.”
        The look on Sampson’s face was a mix of fear and disbelief, but by then the Snake had his gun out and pressed it into the man’s side. “And you would be extremely stupid to attempt to move,” the Snake said. The Russian accent was so thick in his voice you could lean against it without falling.
        “Jesus!” Sampson said.
        “Afraid he ain’t gonna be offering you much help, hoss,” Winters said.
        “What the hell is going on? Who are you? What do you want?”
        “To feed the wolves a poisoned bait,” Ruzhyo said.
        The criminal frowned. He did