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Zusatztext "Gripping ... shocking." -- New York Post Look for Iris Johansen's New York Times bestsellers: The Ugly Duckling Long After Midnight And Then You Die The Killing Game And don't miss Iris Johansen's new thriller: Final Target Available in hardcover in summer 2001 wherever Bantam Books are sold Informationen zum Autor Iris Johansen is the New York Times bestselling author of many novels, including Killer Dreams, On the Run, Countdown, Firestorm, Fatal Tide, Dead Aim, and No One to Trust. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia. Klappentext NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • He strikes without warning. He kills without mercy. He's only just begun. As part of an elite K-9 search and rescue team, Sarah Patrick and her golden retriever, Monty, have a gift for finding what no one else can. But their latest assignment is not like the others. This time Sarah is being forced to take part in a deadly mission . . . by a man who knows enough about her past to ensure her cooperation. Billionaire John Logan's top-secret venture has been sabotaged, its facilities destroyed, and its handpicked staff massacred. The sole survivor is being held for ransom. Logan knows that the only way to save the man-and the secrets he holds-is to find him as soon as possible. Sarah is furious when she is strong-armed into joining Logan on his search. And once she takes the perilous assignment, not even Logan's promises that she and Monty will be safe may be enough to protect them. Because a killer is devising a sadistic vengeance . . . and he may soon find use for Sarah. Barat, Turkey June 11 "Get out of there, Sarah," Boyd yelled from outside the house. "That wall is going to tumble any minute." "Monty's found something." Sarah carefully moved over to the pile of rubble where the golden retriever was standing. "Be still, boy. Be very still." Child? "How do I know?" Monty always hoped it would be a child. He loved kids and all these lost and hurt children nearly killed him. They nearly killed her too, Sarah thought wearily. Finding the children and the old people were always the most painful. So few survived these catastrophes. The earth trembled and the walls fell and life was snuffed out as if it had never been. Out. "You're sure?" Out. "Okay." She absently patted Monty's head as she gazed at the rubble. The second story of the small house had caved in, and chances of anyone being alive beneath the wreckage were minimal. She could hear no groans or weeping. It wouldn't be responsible of her to bring anyone else from the search and rescue team into the building. She should get out herself. Child? What the hell? Stop wasting time. She knew she wasn't going to leave until she investigated more closely. She reached for a stool and tossed it aside. "Go to Boyd, Monty." The retriever sat down and looked at her. "I keep telling you that you're supposed to be a professional. That means you obey orders, dammit." Wait. She tossed a cushion to one side and tugged at the easy chair. Jesus, it was heavy. "You can't help me now." Wait. "Get out of there, Sarah," Boyd yelled. "That's an order. It's been four days. You know you probably won't find anyone alive." "We found that man in Tegucigalpa alive after twelve days. Call Monty, will you, Boyd?" "Monty!" Monty didn't move. She hadn't thought he would, but there was always a chance. "Stupid dog." Wait. "If you're going to stay there, I'm coming in to help you," Boyd said. "No, I'll be out in a minute." Sarah glanced warily at the south wall, then tugged at the mattress until she got it to one side. "I'm just looking around." <...
