Read more
Zusatztext “ Ghost Ship is the closest yet to a flat-out James Bond adventure. Another solid entry in the NUMA Files series.” —Associated Press “Electrifying . . . Cussler delivers all the usual twists and turns on the way to the explosive climax.” — Publishers Weekly “Cussler’s latest is the most breathtakingly suspenseful! wildly inventive! enjoyable thriller in the NUMA Files series to date! Hard-core fans will snap it up” --Library Journal “Cussler’s action-packed! fun-filled 11th NUMA Files adventure provides a deserted volcanic-island lair! tricked-out ships! diving exploits! and plenty of thugs and minions to give Kurt Austin a few problems! to say nothing of a beautiful woman scientist” --Kirkus Reviews Informationen zum 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. From the Hardcover edition. Klappentext The dazzling new novel in the bestselling NUMA Files series from the grand master of adventure. 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 ...
