Tom Clancy Executive Power (A Jack Ryan Novel, Band 26) - Hardcover

Buch 26 von 28: A Jack Ryan Novel

Andrews, Brian; Wilson, Jeffrey

 
9780593718063: Tom Clancy Executive Power (A Jack Ryan Novel, Band 26)
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0593718062 ISBN 13: 9780593718063
Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

An international incident may fracture the Ryan family in the latest entry in this #1 New York Times bestselling series.

Luanda, Angola
An American intelligence team on a routine mission is wiped out. The sole survivor: Kyle Ryan, youngest son of President Jack Ryan.

But the massacre of his colleagues is just the prelude to an even more devastating conflict—a deadly military coup in the central African nation. The next step is a shocking escalation, the seizure of the American Embassy and the taking of numerous hostages including the ambassador and the younger Ryan.

As US forces fight insurgents street by street in the African capital city, Lieutenant Katie Ryan leads the effort to untangle the mystery behind the coup and the identity of the plotters. Is it the Chinese government? Is it a corrupt Angolan general? Or is there a darker force pulling the strings?

In the White House Situation Room, President Jack Ryan and his National Intelligence Team anxiously await the answers. He may have a full Marine Expeditionary Unit at his command, but the full executive power of the presidency is useless if they can’t find the target.

One thing’s for sure, Kyle and his fellow hostages sit at the center of the bullseye—human shields to deflect an American response. Jack Ryan has faced many challenges as President, but solving this problem is no one-man job. It’s going to take all three of them to get through this.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Thirty-five 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, 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.

Navy veterans Brian Andrews and Jeffrey Wilson (Andrews & Wilson) are the writing team behind the bestselling Tier One, Sons of Valor, and Shepherds book series. Brian is a nuclear engineer and Park Leadership Fellow who served as an officer on a fast-attack submarine. Jeff is a vascular surgeon and jet pilot who conducted combat operations with an East Coast–based SEAL team. In addition to writing books, they have multiple film & television projects under development with partners at Skydance, Walden Media, Picturestart, Sony, Endeavor Content, and Imagine Entertainment.

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1

Urasha apartment complex, unit 3B

São Paulo district

Luanda, Angola

2222 local time

Kyle Ryan sat in the dark, his face lit by the blue-gray glow of his laptop computer screen.

"Pull Me Under" by Dream Theater played in his headphones as he worked the keyboard with methodical, tenacious effort. His mind was fully immersed in the slipstream of data and the task at hand. In this state, his body felt separated-his consciousness tethered only by a biological umbilicus providing the fuel and oxygen necessary for computation. In this state, his body was nothing but a distraction. Only when hunger, dehydration, bladder pressure, or exhaustion reached an alarming level would he stop to address the constraint.

Bodies were such a bother.

Sometimes he wished he didn't need one.

He'd argued he could do this work remotely from Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) headquarters in Virginia, but his boss had maintained otherwise and sent him to Angola. As usual, his boss had been right. The data and communications infrastructure in Angola would never have supported remote configuration. The hardware required for that did not exist in theater. This is why he and the hardware team were building out the infrastructure they needed in situ, including dedicated antennas, multiband transceivers, relays, cameras, and power supplies. And all of this was being done without permission or knowledge of the Angolan government.

Their new stealth communications and surveillance network would operate entirely independently from any existing or future Angola Telecom infrastructure. AT's recent partnership and multimillion-dollar contract with Chinese telecom giant Huawei meant that all traffic living on the state-owned network would be subject to Chinese scraping and interrogation. The DIA certainly couldn't risk or tolerate that. The Chinese were eating America's lunch in a raging cyberwar that no one wanted to admit was happening. Just because the bullets being fired happened to be electrons instead of lead slugs didn't make it any less real or any less important to national security.

And when the DIA put out a call for capable volunteers to fight this war, like the Ryan that he was, Kyle raised his hand.

While he performed device configuration routines and programming, his teammates bickered like little brothers on the comms circuit.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" Cockburn said in Kyle's headset. "You're on the wrong roof."

"No, I'm not," Waddle fired back.

"Yes, you are."

"Bro, I'm not. Check yo-self before you wreck yo-self."

"Seriously? That's your go-to-Ice Cube?" Cockburn said.

"I do what I do. You like it, great. You don't, go listen to somebody else. I'm stickin' with the people who stick with me."

"Who said that?"

"Ice Cube, obviously, fire dick."

"You're a toddler, you know that, right?" Cockburn fired back.

"Takes one to know one."

For Kyle, their bickering idiocy was the concentration-wrecking equivalent of being tapped repeatedly on the shoulder by a bony index finger. He sighed, stopped what he was doing, and shifted his gaze from the laptop he was working on to a second laptop, whose screen saver had activated due to inattention. He tapped the space bar to wake the machine, then pressed his thumb on the fingerprint sensor to authenticate. The display refreshed from the log-in screen to a bird's-eye view of the one-square-mile area of Luanda where they were working. On the map, he saw one green dot with the tag cockburn and another a block away labeled waddle. Kyle wasn't sure which team member's surname was more ridiculous. And though it was something he rarely reflected on, whenever he was in the company of Cockburn and Waddle he was glad to be a Ryan.

"I can settle this debate," Kyle said, looking at the monitor. "Bravo is technically on the correct roof."

"Ha, take that, Hot Willy," Waddle said. "I told you I knew what I was doing."

"I said technically, Bravo. You're on the right roof, but you're installing the dish in the wrong place," Kyle said, addressing Waddle by his call sign before either man could chime in with a retort. Despite all the smack talk and clowning around, they were professionals and never used their actual names on comms. "It was supposed to be positioned in the northeast corner; you're on the southwest corner. So, in one sense, Alpha makes a point-you'd be closer to the correct install location if you were in the same quadrant on the wrong building next door."

Kyle fully expected a snarky celebratory comment from Cockburn, but the hardware tech didn't say anything.

"Well, that's a first-burnt weenie is speechless," Waddle said as Kyle watched Waddle's green dot moving across the roof to the correct corner.

A long, awkward static-filled pause followed.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Kyle said, breaking the silence and cracking a smile.

"Dude, no reason to get all sensitive. You know I'm just messing with you," Waddle said, shedding his wise-guy bravado for the first time all night.

Cockburn didn't answer.

A twinge of uncertainty flared in Kyle's chest as he shifted his attention from Waddle's green dot to Cockburn's position indicator. The field tech had been walking north on Rua Cristiano dos Santos, and his dot had been moving on the map accordingly, but now the icon had gone still.

"Alpha, sitrep. You all right, buddy?" Kyle said, eyes locked on the dot.

No reply came.

"Bravo, this is Omega-comms check," he said, hailing Waddle, just to make sure his transmission was going out.

"I hear you Lima Charlie, Omega," Waddle answered. "I'm going to check on Alpha. I should be able to see him from up here."

"Copy that. Good idea."

Kyle turned back to Waddle's green dot, which had reversed directions and was now moving south on the rooftop toward the edge of the building. He looked back at Cockburn's position indicator and saw that his dot was now moving in little fits and starts into an alley between two rows of buildings. For this operation, he had neither a satellite nor a drone providing imagery. This was not a spec ops evolution. He and his team were cyber division, not shooters.

"Bravo, it looks like Alpha is on the move," he said, picking up the bottle of fruit punch-flavored Bodyarmor sitting on his desk. "He seems to be ducking down an alley."

"What the-" Waddle said, but his transmission abruptly cut off. At the same time, Kyle also heard what sounded like a gunshot, followed by a thud.

"Bravo, sitrep?" he said, snapping upright in his chair and dropping the bottle without taking a sip. "Bravo, do you copy?"

Waddle didn't answer, and the green dot on the roof had stopped moving.

Fear blossomed in Kyle's chest and the primitive fight-or-flight subroutines he so rarely accessed in the depths of his brain activated and took control. For complex multifactor problems like strategy and programming, the amygdala lacked the processing power to compete with the cerebral cortex. But for situations like this, it had no equal. It cut through analysis paralysis like a blowtorch through butter. The how, the why, the what-ifs . . . none of these things mattered. The amygdala processed the events of the past two minutes and simplified the logic into terms that even an ADHD brainiac like Kyle Ryan could not misunderstand:

His team had been identified and targeted.

Cockburn and Waddle were dead.

All that remained was a simple, binary decision: Run or die.

Every fiber in his being wanted to bolt out of the apartment like a man on fire, but duty compelled him to perform one final task before evacuating. He pressed and held Ctrl + Alt + F1 for three seconds and a pop-up window appeared:

Authenticate to...

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Verlag
G.P. Putnam's Sons
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593718062
ISBN 13 
9780593718063
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
464
Kontakt zum Hersteller
preigu GmbH & Co. KG
mail@preigu.de

Lengericher Landstr. 19
Osnabrück
Niedersachsen
49078
Deutschland

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