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Nick Stone’s eleventh adventure is McNab at his explosive best!
A cargo ship is apprehended by the authorities off the coast of Spain, loaded to the gunwales with enough arms and ammunition to start a war…
Twenty years later, an unknown aggressor seems intent on eradicating those responsible for the treachery, one by one. And Nick Stone — ex-SAS, tough, resourceful, ruthless, highly trained — is next on the killer’s list…
The fuse is lit… and Stone is catapulted into his most daunting mission yet — a quest that takes him across two continents, and into the darker recesses of his own complex past. But first he must find a man who shared that past, and who may know more about the present threat than he is prepared to reveal.
As the two find themselves pursued across sea and desert, they become ever more enmeshed in a deadly network of betrayal, to which Stone himself unwittingly holds the key. And in a final confrontation that echoes his worst nightmares, only he can stop the unthinkable and save the lives of those he holds most dear.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
warning, but Dom was like a dog with a bone. He ended up being bundled onto a rendition flight to Kabul, where I'd tracked him down and rescued him. So yes, he owed me big-time, but no one knew that more than Dom himself. When I asked if I could borrow their cottage over Christmas, he said that he should really be handing me the deeds. I laughed. Of all the countries in all the world, Ireland would never be the wisest place for me to settle – Good Friday Agreement or no Good Friday Agreement.
kept looking at his watch and willing the traffic to part like the Red Sea. That was just fine. I wasn't going to tell him what was behind us. I didn't want him sparked up and turning in his seat to see for himself. The rider would be straight onto his radio to tell the rest of the team that we were aware, and that wouldn't be good. Whatever they had planned, they might bring it forward. They certainly weren't going to lift off and come back another day. If they knew that we knew, they were going
I couldn't see the base of the diesels. Within five minutes, half the compartment was flooded. The boat began to list to stern. We went back into the deck saloon and retrieved the plastic bags that contained our possessions – money, credit cards, passports, towels, rucksacks and a change of clothes. I told Lynn to tie his bag firmly to his belt, checked it was secure, then did the same myself. I took a last look around, allowing the torch to play across the leather sofas and armchairs. The
Al-Waddan tribe. My bet is that this guy' – Lynn jabbed a finger at Fawad – 'was twiddling his thumbs and minding his own business, when one day somebody told him he'd won the jackpot – that he'd landed a job in some ministry or other in Tripoli with a five-figure salary and an apartment chucked in. Not only that, but his brothers and cousins and uncles were all coming with him and they all had jobs, five-figure salaries and apartments too. And I bet some of them could barely even read or write .
chair and sat down in front of him. 'I need you to answer some questions, Mansour. Please make this easy on yourself. If you don't . . .' He paused and glanced at me. Mansour looked at me then back at Lynn. 'Ask away, Leptis, my friend. I suspect we may be able to help each other.' 'Who were you trying to call? Who was it?' The Libyan smiled. 'It should be abundantly clear to you.' His voice was calm, his English word perfect. 'It should? Why?' 'Why do you think? The number is yours.'