Verwandte Artikel zu The Pharaoh's Secret (NUMA Files, Band 13)

The Pharaoh's Secret (NUMA Files, Band 13) - Hardcover

Buch 13 von 22: NUMA Files

Cussler, Clive; Brown, Graham

 
9780399174117: The Pharaoh's Secret (NUMA Files, Band 13)
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0399174117 ISBN 13: 9780399174117
Verlag: Putnam Pub Group, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

When the NUMA crew is exposed to a dangerous toxin, Kurt Austin and Joe Zavala will stop at nothing to find a cure foretold by Ancient Egyptian lore in this exhilarting novel from the #1 New York Times–bestselling series 
 
Head of NUMA special assignments, Kurt Austin and his most trusted friend, Joe Zavala tangle with a ruthless powerbroker scheming to build a new Egyptian empire as glorious as those of the Pharaohs. Part of their adversary's plan rests on the manipulation of a newly discovered aquifer beneath the Sahara, but an even more devastating weapon at his disposal may threaten the entire world: a plant extract known as the black mist, discovered in the City of the Dead and rumored to have the power to take life from the living and restore it to the dead.

With the balance of power in Africa and Europe on the verge of tipping, Kurt, Joe, and the rest of the NUMA team will have to fight to discover the truth behind the legends—but to do that, they have to confront in person the greatest legend of them all: Osiris, the ruler of the Egyptian underworld.


 

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Clive Cussler is the author or coauthor of over fifty previous books in five bestselling series, including Dirk Pitt®, NUMA® Files, Oregon® Files, Isaac Bell, and Sam and Remi Fargo. His nonfiction works include Built for Adventure: The Classic Automobiles of Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt, plus The Sea Hunters and The Sea Hunters II; these describe the true adventures of the real NUMA, which, led by Cussler, searches for lost ships of historic significance. With his crew of volunteers, Cussler has discovered more than sixty ships, including the long-lost Confederate ship Hunley. He lives in Colorado and Arizona. 
 
Graham Brown is the author of Black Rain and Black Sun, and the coauthor with Cussler of Devil’s Gate, The Storm, Zero Hour, and Ghost Ship. A pilot and an attorney, he lives in Arizona.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

 

M.V. Torino, seventy miles west of Malta
Present Day
 
 The M.V. Torino was a three hundred foot steel hulled freighter built in 1973.  With her advancing age, small size and slow speed, she was nothing more than a ‘coaster’ now, traveling short routes across the Mediterranean, hitting various small islands on a circuit that took in Libya, Sicily, Malta and Greece.  
In the hour before dawn, she was sailing west, seventy miles from her last port of call in Malta and heading for the small Italian controlled island of Lampedusa.
Despite the early hour, several men crowded the bridge.  Each of them nervous and with good reason. For the past hour an unmarked vessel running without lights had been shadowing them.  
“Are they still closing on us?”
The question came as a shout from the ship’s master, Constantine Bracko, a stocky man with pile-driver arms, salt and pepper hair and stubble on his face like coarse sandpaper. 
With his hand on the wheel he waited for an answer. “Well?”
“The ship is still there,” the first mate shouted.  “Matching our turn. And still gaining.” 
“Shut off all our lights,” Bracko ordered.  Another crewman closed a series of master switches and the Torino went dark.  With the ship blacked out, Bracko changed course yet again. 
“This won’t do us much good if they have radar or night vision goggles,” the first mate said. 
“It’ll buy us some time,” Bracko replied.
“Maybe it’s the customs service?” another crewman asked.  “Or the Italian coast guard?”
Bracko shook his head.  “We should be so lucky.”
The first mate knew what that meant.  “Mafia?”
Bracko nodded.  “We should have paid.  We’re smuggling in their waters. They want their cut.”
Thinking he could slip by in the dark of night, Bracko had taken a chance.  His roll of the dice had come out badly. “Break out the weapons,” he said. “We have to fight.”
“But Constantine…” the first mate asked.  “That will go badly with what we’re carrying.”
The Torino’s deck was loaded with shipping containers, but hidden in most of them were pressurized tanks as large as city busses and filled with liquefied propane. They were smuggling other things as well, including twenty barrels of some mysterious substance brought on board by a customer out of Egypt, but because of the rampant fuel taxes throughout Europe, it was the propane that brought the big money.
“Even smugglers have taxes to pay,” Bracko muttered to himself.  Between protection money, transit money and docking fees, the criminal syndicates were as bad as the governments. “Now we’ll pay double.  Money and cargo.  Maybe even triple, if they want to make an example of us.” 
The first mate nodded. He had no wish to pay for someone else’s fuel with his life. “I’ll get the guns,” he said. 
Bracko tossed him a key.  “Wake the men. We fight or we die.”
The crewman took off for the weapons locker and the berths on the lower deck. As he disappeared, another figure entered the wheelhouse.  A passenger who went by the odd sounding name of name Ammon Ta.  Bracko and the crew called him the Egyptian. 
Thin and spindly, with deep set eyes, a shaven head, and caramel colored skin, there was little about the man that seemed imposing to Bracko.  In fact, he wondered why anyone had chosen so un-formidable an escort to accompany what he only assumed to be barrels of hashish or some other drug. 
“Why has the ship been darkened?” Ammon Ta asked bluntly.  “Why are we changing course?”
“Can’t you guess?”
After a moment of calculation, the Egyptian seemed to understand.  He pulled a 9mm pistol from his belt, held it limply and stepped to the door where he gazed out into the dark void of the sea.   
“Behind us,” Bracko said. 
Even as Bracko spoke he was proven wrong.  From just off the port bow, two beams of light snapped on, one painting the bridge with a blinding glare, the other lighting up the rail. 
Two rubber boats raced in.  Bracko instinctively turned the ship towards them, but it was no use, they swung wide and turned back, quickly matching his course and speed.
Grappling hooks were thrown up, catching the three metal cables that acted as the safety rail.  Seconds later, two groups of armed men began climbing up and onto the Torino.  
Covering fire rang out from the boats.
“Get down!” Bracko shouted.
But even as a spread of bullets shattered one bridge window and ricocheted off the wall, the Egyptian didn’t dive for cover.  Instead, he stepped calmly behind the thick bulkhead, glanced outside and snapped off several shots from the pistol in his hand. 
To Bracko’s surprise, the gunfire was deadly.  Ammon Ta had drilled two of the boarders with perfect head shots despite the pitching deck and the difficult angle.  His third shot put out one of the spot lights being aimed their way. 
Following the shots, the Egyptian stepped back without haste or wasted motion as a furious hail of automatic fire answered.
Bracko remained on the deck as incoming fire rattled around the wheelhouse.  One bullet grazed his arm.  Another shattered a bottle of Sambuca that Bracko kept for good luck.  As the liquid spread out on the deck, Bracko considered the ill omen.  Three coffee beans contained in the bottle were supposed to herald prosperity, health and happiness, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Angry now, Bracko slipped his own pistol from a shoulder holster and prepared to fight.  He glanced at the Egyptian, who remained on his feet.  Based on the man’s demeanor and deadly accuracy, Bracko’s opinion of him quickly changed.  He didn’t know who this Egyptian really was, but suddenly figured he was looking at the most lethal man on the ship. 
Good, he thought, at least he’s on our side.
“Excellent shooting,” he called out. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged you.”
“Perhaps, I intended you to,” the Egyptian said.
More gunfire boomed in the dark, this time from the aft section of the ship.  In response Bracko stood and fired out through the shattered window, shooting blindly. 
“You’re wasting ammunition,” the Egyptian said. 
“I’m buying us time,” Bracko said. 
“Time is on their side,” the Egyptian said.  “At least a dozen men have boarded your ship.  Perhaps more. There is a third rubber boat nearing the stern.”
A second exchange of gunfire well aft of their position confirmed what the Egyptian was saying.
“That’s no good,” Bracko replied.  “The weapons locker is on the lower deck, aft.  If my men can’t get to it or make it back here we’ll be badly outnumbered.”
The Egyptian moved to the bulkhead door, opened it a crack and stared down the passageway.  “It appears as if that’s already the case.”
The sound of lumbering footsteps came down the passageway and Bracko readied himself for a fight, but the Egyptian opened the door to let a limping, bleeding crewman stumble through. 
...

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Verlag
Putnam Pub Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0399174117
ISBN 13 
9780399174117
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
448
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Terminal Video
n.pederzini@terminaldistribuzione.com

Via Bruno Buozzi, 24/26,
Granarolo dell'Emilia BO,
Italien