书名：The Teeth of the Tiger:A Jack Ryan Novel (Book 10)虎牙 

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：9780425197400 

商品尺寸：10.8 x 2.5 x 17.5 cm 

包装：简装 

页数：496“恐怖预言大师”精心勾画未来反恐全景蓝图；新型反恐机构先发制人彻底摧毁恐怖组织网络。

The Teeth of the Tiger《虎牙》是汤姆·克兰西军事小说系列中的力作，写的是反恐第二代——杰克·瑞安的儿子小瑞安和他们的“虎牙”反恐团队成长的故事。《虎牙》中，双胞胎多米尼克·卡卢索和布莱恩·卡卢索分别任职于美国联邦调查局和海军陆战队，他们的表兄弟小瑞安则是前总统杰克·瑞安的儿子。三位优秀的青年都是一个独立的间谍调查机构“亨得利协会”的情报人员。该机构只受命于前总统瑞安，打击恐怖分子的活动不受联邦预算的限制；它就像老虎的牙齿，在美国未来的反恐斗争中将扮演重要角色。

克兰西对军事技术的熟悉、对政治时局的洞察力和预见性确实令人吃惊，更令人惊讶的是，他在书中所记述的那些详实的技术数据和内幕资料竟然全部取材于报纸、电视和互联网等公开的资源媒体，而非像外界传闻的那样来自于美国的某秘密情报机构。 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。 A man named Mohammed sits in a café in Vienna, about to propose a deal to a Colombian. Mohammed has a strong network of agents and sympathizers throughout Europe and the Middle East, and the Colombian has an equally strong drug network throughout America. What if they were to form an alliance, to combine all their assets and connections? The potential for profits would be enormous—and the potential for destruction unimaginable. In the Brave New World of terrorism—where anybody with a spare AK-47, a knowledge of kitchen chemistry, or simply the will to die can become a player—the old rules no longer apply. No matter what new governmental organizations come into being, the only truly effective ones are those that are quick and agile, free of oversight and restrictions... and outside the system. Way outside the system. In a nondescript office building in suburban Maryland, the firm Hendley Associates does a profitable business in stocks, bonds, and international currencies, but its true mission is quite different: to identify and locate terrorist threats, and then deal with them, in whatever manner necessary. Established with the knowledge of President John Patrick Ryan, “the Campus” is always on the lookout for promising new talent, its recruiters scattered throughout the armed forces and government agencies—and three men are about to cross its radar. The first is Dominic Caruso, a rookie FBI agent, barely a year out of Quantico, whose decisive actions resolve a particularly brutal kidnap/murder case. The second is Caruso’s brother, Brian, a Marine captain just back from his first combat action in Afghanistan, and already a man to watch. And the third is their cousin... a young man named Jack Ryan, Jr. Jack was raised on intrigue. As his father moved through the ranks of the CIA and then into the White House, Jack received a life course in the world and the way it operates from agents, statesmen, analysts, Secret Service men, and black ops specialists such as John Clark and Ding Chavez. He wants to put it all to work now—but when he knocks on the front door of “the Campus,” he finds that nothing has prepared him for what he is about to encounter. For it is indeed a different world out there, and in here... and it is about to become far more dangerous. 双胞胎多米尼克·卡卢索和布莱恩·卡卢索分别任职于美国联邦调查局和海军陆战队，他们的表兄弟肖瑞安则是前总统瑞安的儿子。三位优秀的青年都是一个独立的间谍调查机构“亨得利协会”的情报人员。该机构只受命于前总统瑞安，活动不受联邦预算的限制；他就像老虎的牙，在美国未来的反恐斗争中奖扮演重要角色。本书的内容分为两部分，一部分是三维主人公的锻炼经历：小瑞安“亨得利协会”，多米尼克独自处理了一起枪案，布莱恩刚刚从阿富汗战场归来。他们欣然受了反恐这份新工作。恐怖分子和哥伦比亚的毒品走私集团相勾结，偷偷美国境内，将美国中部的四家大型物中心作为目标，杀害了许多无辜平民；小说的第二部分讲述了美国人的报复行动，“虎牙”始反，卡卢索兄弟和小瑞安先后飞往欧洲，采用先进的暗杀武器——消灭了中东恐怖分子的多名主谋。汤姆·克兰西（Tom Clancy）（1947-2013），美国军事作家，当今世界畅销的反恐惊悚小说大师。他的小说布局广大，气势磅礴，对于军事武器、恐怖行动、国防情报体系、全球战略关系，描述逼真详实，在全球拥有广大读者群；代表作《猎杀红十月号》、《爱国者游戏》、《燃眉追》和《惊天核网》先后由好莱坞搬上银幕而轰动世界影坛。此外，他也积极涉足网络游戏发，以《彩虹六号》、《幽灵行动》和《分裂细胞》等系列制作声名远播。 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. Chapter OneTHE CAMPUSTHE TOWNof West Odenton, Maryland, isn’t much of a town at all, just a post office for people who live in the general area, a few gas stations and a 7-Eleven, plus the usual fast-food places for people who need a fat-filled breakfast on the drive from Columbia, Maryland, to their jobs in Washington, D.C. And half a mile from the modest post office building was a mid-rise office building of government-undistinguished architecture. It was nine stories high, and on the capacious front lawn a low decorative monolith made of gray brick with silvery lettering said HENDLEY ASSOCIATES, without explaining what, exactly, Hendley Associates was. There were few hints. The roof of the building was flat, tar-and-gravel over reinforced concrete, with a small penthouse to house the elevator machinery and another rectangular structure that gave no clue about its identity. In fact, it was made of fiberglass, white in color, and radio-transparent. The building itself was unusual only in one thing: Except for a few old tobacco barns that barely exceeded twenty-five feet in height, it was the only building higher than two stories that sat on a direct line of sight from the National Security Agency located at Fort Meade, Maryland, and the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency at Langley, Virginia. Some other entrepreneurs had wished to build on that sight line, but zoning approval had never been granted, for many reasons, all of them false. Behind the building was a small antenna farm not unlike that found next to a local television station-a half-dozen six-meter parabolic dishes sat inside a twelve-foot-high, razor-wire-crowned Cyclone fence enclosure and pointed at various commercial communications satellites. The entire complex, which wasn’t terribly complex at all, comprised fifteen and a third acres in Maryland’s Howard County, and was referred to as “The Campus” by the people who worked there. Nearby was the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory, a government-consulting establishment of long standing and well-established sensitivity of function. To the public, Hendley Associates was a trader in stocks, bonds, and international currencies, though, oddly, it did little in the way of public business. It was not known to have any clients, and while it was whispered to be quietly active in local charities (the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine was rumored to be the main recipient of Hendley’s corporate largesse), nothing had ever leaked to the local media. In fact, it had no public-relations department at all. Neither was it rumored to be doing anything untoward, though its chief executive officer was known to have had a somewhat troubled past, as a result of which he was shy of publicity, which, on a few rare occasions, he’d dodged quite adroitly and amiably, until, finally, the local media had stopped asking. Hendley’s employees were scattered about locally, mostly in Columbia, lived upper-middle-class lifestyles, and were generally as remarkable as Beaver’s father, Ward Cleaver. Gerald Paul Hendley, Jr., had had a stellar career in the commodities business, during which he’d amassed a sizable personal fortune and then turned to elected public service in his late thirties, soon becoming a United States senator from South Carolina. Very quickly, he’d acquired a reputation as a legislative maverick who eschewed special interests and their campaign money offers, and followed a rather ferociously independent political track, leaning toward liberal on civil-rights issues, but decidedly conservative on defense and foreign relations. He’d never shied away from speaking his mind, which had made him good and entertaining copy for the press, and eventually there were whispered-about presidential aspirations. Toward the end of his second six-year term, however, he’d suffered a great personal tragedy. He’d lost his wife and three children in an accident on Interstate 185 just outside of Columbia, South Carolina, their station wagon crushed beneath the wheels of a Kenworth tractor-trailer. It had been a predictably crushing blow, and soon thereafter, at the very beginning of the campaign for his third term, more misfortune had struck him. It became known through a column in the New York Times that his personal investment portfolio-he’d always kept it private, saying that since he took no money for his campaigning, he had no need to disclose his net worth except in the most general of terms-showed evidence of insider trading. This suspicion was confirmed with deeper delving by the newspapers and TV, and despite Hendley’s protest that the Securities and Exchange Commission had never actually published guidelines about what the law meant, it appeared to some that he’d used his inside knowledge on future government expenditures to benefit a real-estate investment enterprise which would profit him and his co-investors over fifty million dollars. Worse still, when challenged on the question in a public debate by the Republican candidate-a self-described “Mr. Clean”—he responded with two mistakes. First, he’d lost his temper in front of rolling cameras. Second, he’d told the people of South Carolina that if they doubted his honesty, then they could vote for the fool with whom he shared the stage. For a man who’d never put a political foot wrong in his life, that surprise alone had cost him five percent of the state’s voters. The remainder of his lackluster campaign had only slid downhill, and despite the lingering sympathy vote from those who remembered the annihilation of his family, his seat had ended up an upset-loss for the Democrats, which had further been exacerbated by a venomous concession statement. Then he’d left public life for good, not even returning to his antebellum plantation northwest of Charleston but rather moving to Maryland and leaving his life entirely behind. One further flamethrower statement at the entire congressional process had burned whatever bridges might have remained open to him.