Ghost Ship (The NUMA Files)
Clive Cussler, Graham Brown
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
An explosive NUMA® adventure featuring hero Kurt Austin from New York Times bestselling author Clive Cussler...
When Kurt Austin is injured attempting to rescue the passengers and crew from a sinking yacht, he wakes with fragmented and conflicted memories. Did he see an old friend and her children drown? Or was the yacht abandoned when he came aboard?
Determined to know the truth, he soon finds himself descending into a shadowy world of state-sponsored cybercrime, and uncovering a pattern of vanishing scientists, suspicious accidents, and a web of human trafficking.
With the help of Joe Zavala, he takes on the sinister organization at the heart of this web, facing off with them in locations ranging from Monaco to North Korea to the rugged coasts of Madagascar. But where he will ultimately end up even he could not begin to guess—except maybe in death…
notice,” Joe said. “Can’t exactly build one from scratch.” “What about something I can ride?” “A diver propulsion vehicle?” Kurt nodded. “Can you build me something that will catch a yacht?” “Sure,” Joe said. “But where do we get the parts?” “Funny you should ask,” Kurt grinned. “I have an idea.” — AN HOUR LATER, while El Din was securing a fishing boat that would not draw much attention, Kurt and Joe were at the airport looking over a sprawling parking lot of dusty cars. “I feel like
sundown. Keeping the Beretta aimed at her, Kurt moved behind the desk and tapped the computer keyboard. The screen lit up. Back to the password. “You’ve already broken into this once,” he said. “Care to tell me how?” “Who are you?” she asked. There was no fear in her voice, only a subtle curiosity. Like someone who’d discovered a new plaything. “Password,” Kurt said, ignoring her. “Are you a thief? A mole of some kind?” “Password.” “Calista,” she told him, “with a C. As if you could spell
clearance from the shoals,” the first officer said. “Or perhaps the wind and current are forcing her off. Any idea who it is?” “Not sure,” the captain said. “She might be the Waratah.” Moments later, a pair of flashes only seconds apart lit out from the vessel’s approximate position. They were bright white and then orange, but at this range there was no sound, like watching distant fireworks. When they faded, the horizon was dark. Both the captain and first officer blinked and stared into that
unyielding, even as the helicopter neared the limits of its range. He pressed the intercom switch and looked ahead to where his friend Joe Zavala sat in the copilot’s seat. “Anything?” “Nothing,” Joe called back. Kurt and Joe worked for NUMA, the National Underwater Marine Agency, a branch of the American government dedicated to the study and preservation of the sea. But, at the moment, they were part of a makeshift rescue team called on to assist a group of floundering vessels that had been
any of the lifeboats survived that gale, and, as it turned out, not one ever made it to shore. The Waratah, on the other hand, was driven north, where, aided by the storm surge, she traveled up the narrow river farther than anyone could have expected. She ran aground in a meander that couldn’t be seen from the coast in an unpopulated section of the country. It was there that the last members of the crew were killed. Over the years, the ship seemed to burrow itself into the silt, sinking lower