书名：Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell汤姆克兰西细胞分裂 

作者：Tom Clancy汤姆·克兰西 

出版社名称：Berkley 

出版时间：2004 

语种：英文 

ISBN：9780425201688 

商品尺寸：10.8 x 2.2 x 17.5 cm 

包装：简装 

页数：416Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell《汤姆克兰西细胞分裂》是汤姆·克兰西2004年的作品，被游戏开发公司育碧（Ubisoft）改编成游戏。 克兰西的作品，不但每部布局广大、深入多方层面，而且结构严谨、气势磅礴。故事中的主角，往往深深地结合了其本人的道德及价值观，正与克兰西向来率直、坦诚的个性不谋而合。尽管在成名后，每部作品皆为畅销书，并为他带来可观的财富，但这位大师级的小说家却仍秉持其一贯的生活态度及原则，只专注于其创作的小说领域中；将他对世界的热情及敏锐的观察力，透过一个个复杂人性的及情刻画节描述，严谨而完整地传达给每位读者，期待他们与作者共同进入一连串的冒险故事中，探索军事科技及谍报领域的种种奥秘。 In response to the growing use of sophisticated digital encryption to conceal potential threats to the United States, the National Security Agency has ushered forth the new dawn of intelligence-gathering techniques. The top-secret initiative is dubbed Third Echelon. Its existence denied by the U.S. government, Third Echelon deploys a lone field operative. He is sharp, nearly invisible, and deadly. And he has the right to spy, steal, destroy, and assassinate to protect American freedoms. His name is Sam Fisher. He is a Splinter Cell®. 汤姆·克兰西，美国军事历史和间谍小说作家，1947年出生于美国马里兰州。1969年毕业于罗耀拉学院英文文学专业后，他参加了陆军后备役军官培训，但因视力原因未能进入陆军服役，之后成为了一名保险公司职员。1973年汤姆·克兰西跳槽到了她妻子的祖父创建的保险公司，并于1980年买下了这间公司，也是在这一年，他开始利用业余时间创作小说。 1984年，汤姆·克兰西的处女作《猎杀红色十月号》出版，首印时他希望能出版5000本，实际上却印刷了45000本，并获得了时任美国总统里根的称赞。后来这本小说在全美发行超过两百三十万本，而小说中准确的描述甚至让汤姆·克兰西获得了与美军高级军官会面的机会。 随后汤姆·克兰西又出版了许多作品，基本上都成为了畅销小说。二十多年间，汤姆·克兰西共出版了79部作品（包含合著）。 1996年，汤姆·克兰西创作了部名为《总统命令》的小说，小说中描述了恐怖分子劫持波音747客机撞击美国国会山制造恐怖袭击的情节，与2001年发生的9-11恐怖袭击事件如出一辙，民间一直传言本拉登即是参考了这部小说设计的袭击方案。作家写的作品中的恐怖袭击方式被真实的恐怖分子使用，这一桥段也被《图书馆战争》的作者借鉴写入了自己的作品中。 2008年，法国游戏公司育碧娱乐软件公司购买了汤姆·克兰西的冠名权，将以其多部作品为背景打造系列游戏。 2013年10月1日，汤姆·克兰西于马里兰州一间医院去世，死因未向公众公开。 A little more than thirty years ago Tom Clancy was a Maryland insurance broker with a passion for naval history. Years before, he had been an English major at Baltimore’s Loyola College and had always dreamed of writing a novel. His first effort, The Hunt for Red October—the first of the phenomenally successful Jack Ryan novels—sold briskly as a result of rave reviews, then catapulted onto the New York Times bestseller list after President Reagan pronounced it “the perfect yarn.” From that day forward, Clancy established himself as an undisputed master at blending exceptional realism and authenticity, intricate plotting, and razor-sharp suspense. He passed away in October 2013. It’s like being in a state of nonexistence. A vacuum. Darkness and light at the same time, and no sense of gravity. There’s no air, but I know I’m breathing. Certainly no sounds are present. I see and feel nothing. There are no dreams. That’s what sleep is like for me. I’m blessed, I suppose. I can will myself to sleep anywhere, anytime. I didn’t train to do it. It’s always been that way, ever since I was a kid. I simply tell myself, “It’s time to sleep now.” And I do it. I’m sure a lot of people in the world would envy this talent. I don’t take it for granted because in my business I have to catch sleep in the strangest places and at the oddest times. I feel the pulsating pressure on my wrist. It gently pulls me out of this dimensionless world, and I slowly regain the use of my senses. I feel the warm metal against my face. I hear far-off nondescript echoes. The OPSAT attached to my wrist continues to wake me. There’s a little T-shaped rod that protrudes from the flexible band when the silent “alarm” goes off. The rod rocks back and forth, nudging my pulse, telling my body that it’s time to rouse. When I first saw it demonstrated, it reminded me of a James Coburn spy movie from the sixties in which he played a secret agent who could stop his heart on command. This apparently put him in some kind of hibernation. He had a wristwatch with the same kind of T-shaped rod that poked him until he woke up. I remember laughing in the movie theater when I saw that. It was too ridiculous to take seriously. Now look at me. I take a few deep breaths. The air is stale and dry inside the ventilation shaft where I spent the last six hours. I flex my hands to get the blood circulating once again. I stretch my feet, even though they’re enclosed snugly in my boots. Then I open my eyes. There’s no more light in the shaft than there was when I first climbed into it. The OPSAT finishes its duty and the little T-shaped rod retracts. I bring my left hand to my face and press the button to illuminate the OPSAT’s screen. There are no new messages from Lambert. No incoming e-mail. All’s quiet in the world. The OPSAT is a handy little device that Third Echelon dreamed up for its agents. It’s really called an Operational Satellite Uplink. Primarily a tool for communication, it has many other uses as well. I particularly like the camera capabilities that allow me to snap digital pics of anything I want. I’m suddenly aware of how hot it is and I remember where I am. The ventilation shaft of the Tropical Casino in Macau. I’m lying horizontally in a space slightly smaller than a phone booth. It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic or I’d be a basket case by now. Since I had to wait for the right time to make my move, I set the alarm to wake me at four in the morning. I figured that’s when activity inside the casino would be at its most muted. It’s a twenty-four–hour joint, so there’s always going to be someone here. I’m sweating like a pig inside my custom-made uniform. I forgot to adjust the temperature control before going to sleep. I quickly turn the knob at my belt to make it cooler. Immediately I can feel the cold water flowing through the vessels embedded within the uniform’s lining. The military calls it an “Objective Force Warrior” uniform. It’s like an astronaut’s suit, only sleeker and tighter. I can make it cold or hot, depending on what kind of environment I’m in. It’s made of a heavy material with Kevlar sewn into it, yet it’s flexible enough for me to perform any gymnastic feat I wish to attempt. I wouldn’t call it bulletproof, but it’s close. The tough outer hide feels like elephant skin to the touch, and it goes a long way toward deflecting stuff. I suppose if I were shot at point blank I’d be dead, but bullets fired from a range of fifteen feet or more might penetrate the suit but not me. The Kevlar acts as a braking mechanism. Pretty cool stuff. Another interesting feature is that it’s got photosensitive threading that reacts when a targeting laser strikes the material. The suit sends a signal to my OPSAT, alerting me that I’m in a sniper’s gun sight. My only beef with the uniform is that it’s so tight fitting and neat that it makes me look like a comic book superhero. Even my special headpiece looks like a mask when I have the goggles down. I pull the straw from the tube in the collar and suck refreshing cold water from the supply stored in the bladders distributed evenly throughout the suit. There’s enough water in there to last twelve hours as long as I use it sparingly. It’s an odd concept, but I have to “fill up my uniform” every so often.