Verwandte Artikel zu The Shadow Protocol

The Shadow Protocol - Softcover

McDermott, Andy

 
9780345537065: The Shadow Protocol
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0345537068 ISBN 13: 9780345537065
Verlag: DELL PUB, 2014

Inhaltsangabe

Move over Jason Bourne. Here from Andy McDermott, the New York Times bestselling author who “raises the bar to please adventure junkies who prefer to mainline their action” (Publishers Weekly, starred review), is the high-octane start to a new series starring American agent Adam Gray. Filled with intrigue, adventure, and non-stop action, The Shadow Protocol is perfect for fans of Robert Ludlum and James Rollins.

NO ONE CAN KNOW HIM. NO ONE SHOULD TRUST HIM.
AND AMERICA WON’T SURVIVE WITHOUT HIM.

Adam Gray is a cipher, a disciplined loner conditioned not to betray a single emotion. Part of an elite team spearheaded by a brilliant neuroscientist, Gray is a covert agent armed with PERSONA, a device that allows him to copy the brain patterns of the terrorists and operatives he meets in the field. For twenty-four hours he can recall their memories. He can know every detail of their plans. He can be America’s worst enemy—before he’s back to being Adam Gray again.

Now Gray and his team are racing to stop a plot to release a radioactive isotope that could kill millions. And in a nerve-racking clandestine meeting, Gray senses that his cover is cracked and that the mission—not to mention his life—may be in grave danger. But as they fight this violent conspiracy around the globe, another threat has emerged. This one has the perfect cover, the most unlikely double agent, and the most terrifying power of all. For a beautiful young scientist has discovered an unforeseen weakness in PERSONA: Adam Gray’s own past.

Praise for the novels of Andy McDermott
 
“[McDermott] raises the bar . . . nonstop high-octane action.”—Publishers Weekly
 
“Easily competes with the works of Dan Brown and James Rollins.”—Bookgasm
 
“True Indiana Jones stuff with terrific pace.”—The Bookseller
 
“Adventure stories don’t get much more epic than this.”—Daily Mirror (U.K.)
 
“A writer of rare, almost cinematic talent. Where others’ action scenes limp along unconvincingly, his explode off the page in Technicolor.”—Daily Express (Scotland)

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Andy McDermott is a former journalist and movie critic who now writes novels full-time following the international success of his debut thriller, The Hunt for Atlantis,which has been sold around the world in more than twenty languages. He is also the author of The Tomb of Hercules, The Secret of Excalibur, The Covenant of Genesis, The Pyramid of Doom, The Sacred Vault, Empire of Gold, Return to Atlantis, The Valhalla Prophecy, and The Shadow Protocol. He lives in Bournemouth, England.

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9780345537065|excerpt

McDermott / SHADOW PROTOCOL

One

Being Giorgi Toradze

Peshawar, Pakistan

The voices in Adam Gray’s head were being controlling, as always.

“There’s an intersection on your left, thirty meters ahead,” said Holly Jo Voss through the tiny transceiver implanted in the American’s right ear. “Go down it.”

“Okay,” he said under his breath, lips ventriloquist- still. He raised the brim of his heavy black umbrella to check the street. The torrential downpour had scoured the thoroughfare of its populace, those few Pakistanis not taking shelter scurrying along with coats shrugged up over their heads. A narrow side road was visible through the spray where Holly Jo had said. “I see it. How far to the rendezvous?”

“Less than sixty meters, at the far end.”

“Anyone waiting for me?”

Another voice came through the earwig: male, young, cocky.

“I see two assholes chilling on the corner,” Kyle Falconetti told him. Somewhere above, a compact remotely controlled quadrotor was tracking Adam’s progress through the city. Even without the rain, he doubted he could have spotted the little drone; it was designed to be stealthy, and the New Jersey native was a skilled pilot. “Either they don’t got the brains to come in out of the rain, or they’re your new buddies.”

This was it: first contact with the targets. He swelled his chest with borrowed confidence as he rounded the corner, shifting the weight of the large, heavy black case in his right hand. “Here we go.”

Let’s do the deal, said a third voice.

This one was not in his ear.

Giorgi Toradze: age forty, Georgian, a former mercenary who had discovered more profit in selling weapons to those who wanted to fight wars than participating in the conflicts himself. The case contained samples of his deadly trade. However, the arms dealer was small fry, of limited interest to American intelligence.

The same was not true of his potential clients.

Toradze had been intercepted en route to Pakistan. Adam had replaced him, his dark hair dyed fully black and a fake mustache painstakingly applied, contact lenses turning his gray eyes blue. He was slightly taller and in much better physical shape than the Georgian, and a full decade younger, but with an overcoat concealing his build and Toradze’s gold jewelry on conspicuous display, he would superficially match the description the Pakistanis had been given.

The deception would instantly collapse if any of them had previously met the real arms dealer. But Toradze knew that was unlikely.

And everything Toradze knew, now Adam did too.

He made his way along the side street, rain patter- ing loudly off his umbrella’s strong fabric. Ahead, a man leaned against a wall. Early twenties, scraggly beard, a grubby sky-blue nylon jacket open despite the deluge. Right hand held pressed against his chest, fingertips edging under the zipper as he saw the approaching figure.

Look at this cretin. Could he make it any more obvious that he’s got a gun?

Toradze’s assessment, but Adam shared it. The man waiting for him was doubtless a recent recruit to the terrorist group, eager to prove his worth. Adam looked him in the eye as he got closer, challenging without being aggressive.

The Pakistani met his gaze with a twitch of belligerence. In the highlands of the country’s northwestern provinces, where his organization operated in the open, such provocation would have met with an angry, even violent response. But here in the city he had to tread carefully. He regarded Adam for another moment, then said a single word in Pashto over one shoulder.

A second man, a few years older, came around the corner. He looked the new arrival up and down, comparing what he saw with what he had been told to expect. Black hair, mustache, about 180 centimeters tall. Gold watch.

Toradze had specifically mentioned the Rolex in his self-description, being very proud of the ostentatious time- piece. Adam made sure it was clearly visible on his wrist as he lifted the umbrella higher. “Is there a dentist near here?” he said, the English heavy with Toradze’s native accent.

The second of the pair replied. “Do you have a toothache?”

It was a simple pass code. Adam gave the agreed response. “I have a delivery.”

The man nodded. “You are Toradze?”

Adam gave him a cheery smile. “Call me Giorgi. And you?”

“Umar. This is Marwat.”

“Good to meet you. Okay, I think we better get out of this rain! Let’s go, hey?”

“This way.” Umar set off down the street, Adam following. Marwat took up the rear, right hand still poised across his chest.

“They’re moving,” said Kyle. One of the large flat-screen monitors before him showed the three men walking down the road, viewed from overhead. The drone he controlled was hovering some eighty meters up, well clear of the surrounding buildings. He adjusted a dial, and the view zoomed out to provide a wider view of the street maze. “Heading north.”

“Don’t lose them.” Tony Carpenter, the team’s field commander, was watching the scene on his own monitor.

“Wasn’t planning on doing, brah,” Kyle replied, with a little sarcasm. He nudged a joystick to send the UAV after its targets.

The fair-haired man ignored the mild insubordination. He was used to Kyle, and there were more important concerns. He regarded the aerial view intently, then looked across at another of the room’s occupants. “Holly Jo, check his tracker. We might lose line of sight.”

The willowy blonde tapped a command into her computer. A few seconds later, a hollow green square was superimposed on the street scene—directly over the black dodecagon of the umbrella. As Adam moved, so did the vivid symbol. “Tracker is on, good signal.”

“Great.” Tony spoke into his headset. “John, he’s made contact and is on his way to the meet. We’ll give you its location the second we have it.”

John Baxter, a former captain in the US Marines, was waiting in a van a few streets from the rendezvous point with a small team of armed men. “Remember, the kill option is still available once we know where these bastards are.”

“Syed is more valuable to us alive than dead,” said Tony, reminding Baxter of the mission’s objective—and who was in charge. On the monitor, the three figures were still heading for what might prove a very dangerous destination. “If the plan works,” he added quietly.

“It’ll work.” The fourth person in the dirty room was also one of the main reasons it was so cramped. Dr. Roger Albion was a hulking bear of a man, college quarterback build still solid despite his last game being forty years earlier. “Adam’s not just imitating Toradze—he is Toradze. You of all people should know that. He can do this.”

“I hope so.” The umbrella disappeared from sight as the trio turned into a narrow alley, the green square still moving. “For his sake.”

Adam followed Umar through the urban labyrinth. The deluge was beginning to ease off, some braver souls emerging from shelter. “So, is it much farther, hey?” he said. “If I’d known we were going to walk in the rain, I would have paid for a taxi!”

“It is not far,” said Umar. He gestured ahead. “Up there.”

The building he...

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Verlag
DELL PUB
Erscheinungsdatum
2014
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0345537068
ISBN 13 
9780345537065
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
531
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Dell GmbH
6997927350
DE.CustomerSupport@dell.com

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