Verwandte Artikel zu Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt Adventure, Band 23)

Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt Adventure, Band 23) - Softcover

Buch 23 von 28: Dirk Pitt Adventures

Cussler, Clive; Cussler, Dirk

 
9780593422557: Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt Adventure, Band 23)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593422554 ISBN 13: 9780593422557
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

Renowned marine adventurer Dirk Pitt returns to stem a toxic outbreak in the thrilling novel from the grand master of adventure and #1 New York Times–bestselling author.
 
While investigating an unexplained poisonous spill in the Caribbean Sea that may ultimately threaten the United States, Dirk Pitt unwittingly becomes involved in something even more dangerous—a post-Castro power struggle for the control of Cuba. Meanwhile, Pitt’s children, marine engineer Dirk and oceanographer Summer, are on an investigation of their own, chasing an Aztec stone that may reveal the whereabouts of a vast historical Aztec treasure. The problem is, that stone was believed to have been destroyed on the battleship Maine in Havana Harbor in 1898, which brings them both to Cuba as well—and squarely into harm’s way. The whole Pitt familyhas been in desperate situations before . . . but perhaps never quite as dire as the one facing them now.

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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, and Built to Thrill:More Classic Automobiles from 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. 

 
Dirk Cussler is the coauthor with Clive Cussler of six Dirk Pitt adventures, most recently Odessa Sea. He lives in Arizona.

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PURSUED
Prologue

February 15, 1898

Sweat flowed down the exhausted man’s face, cascading
in heavy drops off his unshaven cheeks. Pulling a pair of
thick wooden oars toward his chest, he tilted his head
and rubbed a soiled sleeve across his forehead. He ignored the
pain in his limbs and resumed a slow but steady stroke.

The exertion alone didn’t account for his perspiration, nor
did the muggy tropical climate. The sun had barely cleared the
horizon, and the still air hanging over Havana Harbor was cool
and damp. It was the strain of pursuit that kept his pulse rapid.
With vacant eyes, he stared across the water, gesturing with his
head to the man behind him in the boat.

It had been nearly two weeks since the Spanish militia first
tried to appropriate his discovery, forcing him to flee. Three of
his comrades had already died defending the relic. The Spaniards
had no qualms about killing and would gladly murder
him to get what they wanted. He would have been killed already,
except for a chance encounter with a ragtag band of
armed Cuban rebels, who provided him safe passage to the outskirts
of Havana.

He glanced over his shoulder at a pair of warships moored
near the harbor’s commercial anchorage.

“Al estribor,” he rasped. “To the right.”

“Sí,” replied the squat Cuban seated behind, wielding his
own set of oars. He was similarly attired in torn and soiled
clothes, his face shaded by a weathered straw hat.

Together, they maneuvered the leaky longboat toward the
modern steel warships. The old man scoured the harbor for
threats, but he seemed to have finally eluded his pursuers. A
safe haven was within his grasp.

They rowed slowly past the smaller warship, which carried
a Spanish flag hung from its stern mast, and approached the
second vessel. An armored cruiser, it featured twin gun turrets
that protruded awkwardly over either side rail. The deck
and topsides were painted a straw yellow, offset against a clean
white hull. With lanterns still aglow in the dawn’s light, the ship
sparkled like an amber diamond.

Several sentries patrolled fore and aft, watching over the
ship in a high state of readiness. An officer in a dark uniform
appeared on a superstructure walkway and eyed the approaching
longboat.

He raised a megaphone. “Halt and state your business.”

“I’m Dr. Ellsworth Boyd of Yale University,” the old man
said in a shaky voice. “The American Consulate in Havana has
arranged for my refuge aboard your vessel.”

“Stand by, please.”

The officer disappeared into the bridge. A few minutes later,
he appeared on deck with several sailors. A rope ladder was
lowered over the side and the longboat waved to approach.
When the boat scraped against the warship’s hull, Boyd stood
and threw a line to one of the sailors.

“I have a crate that must accompany me. It is very important.”

Boyd kicked away some palm fronds that concealed a thick
wooden crate lodged between the benches. As the sailors lowered
additional ropes, Boyd surveyed the surrounding waters.
Satisfied as to their safety, Boyd and his assistant secured the
ropes to the crate and watched as it was hoisted aboard.

“That will have to remain on deck,” the officer said as a pair
of sailors muscled the heavy box to a ventilator and tied it down.

Boyd handed his rowing partner a gold coin, shook hands in
farewell, then climbed up the rope ladder. Just north of fifty,
Boyd was in strapping condition for his age and acclimated
to the humidity of the tropics from working in the Caribbean
each winter season. But he was no longer young, a fact he was
loath to accept. He ignored the nagging pains in his joints and
the constant fatigue he couldn’t seem to shake as he climbed
onto the deck.

“I’m Lieutenant Holman,” the officer said. “We’ve been expecting
you, Dr. Boyd. Let me show you to a guest cabin, where
you can get cleaned up. Due to security concerns, I’ll have to
ask that you remain confined to your cabin. I’ll be happy to arrange
a tour of the ship later, if you like, and we’ll see if we can
get you on the captain’s schedule today.”

Boyd extended a hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m grateful
for your hospitality.”

Holman shook his hand with a firm grip. “On behalf of the
captain and crew, I welcome you aboard the battle cruiser USS
Maine.”


A light evening trade wind nudged the Maine about her mooring
until her blunt bow pointed toward the heart of Havana.
The ship’s sentries were thankful for the breeze, which alleviated
the rank odor of the harbor’s polluted waters.

The evening breeze also carried the nighttime melody of
Havana’s streets—the honky-tonk music from its harbor-front
bars, the laughing voices of pedestrians on the nearby Malecón,
and the clank of horse and wagons maneuvering through the
narrow boulevards. The vibrant sounds were a painful reminder
to the Maine’s enlisted sailors that they had been denied
all shore leave in the three weeks since they had arrived. The
ship had been dispatched to protect the American Consulate
after a riot by Spanish loyalists, angry at the U.S. support of
Cuban rebels battling the oppressive Spanish regime.

Boyd’s cabin door shuddered under a loud knock and he
opened it to find Lieutenant Holman, dressed in a razor-crisp
blue uniform that seemed to defy the humidity.

Holman gave a slight bow. “The captain welcomes your acceptance
to dine with him this evening.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Please lead on.”

A warm bath and a long afternoon nap had rejuvenated
Boyd. He walked with the confident gait of a man who had
beaten the odds. He still wore his field clothes, now freshly
laundered, to which he had added a dinner jacket borrowed
from Holman. He tugged uncomfortably at the sleeves, several
inches too short for his gangly arms.

They made their way to a small officers’ mess near the aft
deck. In the center of the room, a linen-covered table gleaming
with white china and silverware was occupied by the Maine’s
captain.

Charles Sigsbee was a studious man with a reasoned mind,
well respected in the Navy for his leadership qualities. Sporting
round spectacles and a bushy mustache, he resembled a bank
clerk more than a ship’s captain. He rose and greeted Boyd with
an impatient gaze as Holman made the introductions.

The three men sat down at the table and a steward appeared,
serving a consommé. Boyd ignored a small dog that clung to the
captain’s side.

Sigsbee turned to Boyd. “I hope you find your accommodations
aboard the Maine satisfactory.”

“More than adequate,” Boyd said. “I am thankful for your
courtesy in allowing me aboard on short notice. I can’t tell you
how beautiful the Maine looked when I first sighted her this
morning.”

“I’m afraid we’re not configured for comfort or guests,”
Sigsbee said. “While our presence in Havana is to affect the
transport of Americans at risk, local events seemed to have
calmed since our arrival. I must say, I was surprised at receiving
a communiqué from the Havana Consul asking that you be welcomed
aboard for transit back to the United States—with nary
an explanation.”

Boyd sighed. “The...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593422554
ISBN 13 
9780593422557
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
480
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Verantwortliche Person
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