24 - Rogue E-Book

David Mack

• Herausgeber: Titan Books
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Jack Bauer is a fugitive hunted by the most powerful nations in the world. On a self-imposed crusade to destroy the criminal empire of international arms dealer Karl Rask, Jack has infiltrated the crew of one of Rask's freighters. But his mission is disrupted when the ship is hijacked by a band of suspiciously well-informed pirates off the coast of Somalia. As Jack fights to free the ship, he discovers a deadly secret hidden in its hold.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Also available from Titan Books

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chronological Note

01

02

03

04

05

06

07

08

09

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also available from Titan Books:

24: Deadline by James Swallow

24: RoguePrint edition ISBN: 9781783296453E-book edition ISBN: 9781783296460

Published by Titan BooksA division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd.144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

First edition September 201510 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

24 ™ & © 2015 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation.All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

For Marco, who put my name in the hat

CHRONOLOGICAL NOTE

The following events occur one year, seven months, and twenty-three days after Jack Bauer was forced into exile and left the United States (24: Deadline). All times are East Africa Time.

01

08:00 P.M. – 09:00 P.M.

The Gulf of Aden—11°01’23.8” N, 44°57’04.4” E Approximately 40 Miles North of Berbera, Somalia

The skiff’s prow cleaved through black waves. Salt water sprayed Osman Xasan Muhamad’s face as the narrow boat slammed into a trench between crests, kicking cold froth over its gunwales. At his back were two more skiffs loaded with armed and desperate men. Behind them hovered the waxing half disk of the moon, low and languid in its descent toward the western shore. Far ahead, lightning danced between the sea and the edge of a storm cloud.

He looked back toward Sadiq Khalif Fárah, his second-in-command, who manned the lead skiff’s outboard engine. “Faster! We’re going to miss them!”

“This is as fast as it goes.” Sadiq held the boat’s rudder in one hand and a digital compass in the other. He hollered back over the spluttering of the engine, “We should be close!”

As Osman peered into a darkness with no horizon, the fear of a missed deadline set his guts churning. “I don’t see them. They must be running dark.” Another spurt of water doused his face and left him spitting brine. “If we miss the rendezvous—”

“We won’t.”

Osman wondered if Sadiq would be so calm if he were the one who would have to answer for their failure should the freighter slip away. He tightened his grip on his AK-47 and strained to pierce the deepening gloom of night ahead of the speeding skiff.

Nothing but shadows pitching and rolling against other shadows.

All that Osman had, and all he hoped to have, depended on this mission. Raiding the freighter was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Beyond the outrageous ransom he and his men had been promised for delivering its most valuable cargo, they each stood to earn a fortune from selling the rest of the ship’s freight on the black market—not to mention the vast sums the ship itself would command from the right buyers. This score would free Osman from his life of piracy and fund his escape from Somalia—a journey for which he had longed his entire life.

Unfortunately, Sadiq appeared not to care about any of that. A sadist, he seemed born to live under the black flag. He needed money as badly as Osman and all the rest of their tribesmen, but that wasn’t what drove him. Osman knew from the predatory gleam in Sadiq’s eyes that he enjoyed being a pirate. An outlaw. A killer.

By tomorrow we’ll be done, Osman promised himself. After that, I will never have to see him again. He will be free to walk his path, and I will walk mine—far from here.

He squinted against a stinging spray over the prow, wiped his eyes, and struggled to see anything ahead except darkness. Then he found what he sought—a pale red dot of light. Staccato blinks in Morse code, the prearranged signal from their contact on the freighter.

“I see them! Shift heading, north-northeast.”

The skiff rolled and bobbed with nauseating swiftness as Sadiq adjusted its course toward the signal light. Osman fought back the urge to retch—he had always hated water travel—and watched the blinking crimson dot until he was sure he had seen the entire message.

“Their course is steady. Speed, ten knots. We’re clear for an aft approach.”

“Got it.” Sadiq plowed the skiff through another frothy crest of water, right on target. Osman relayed the information to the other skiffs with his own red signal light. Then he tucked the miniature beacon back into a deep pocket on the leg of his cargo pants and faced the rest of the men in his and Sadiq’s skiff. “As soon as we reach the main deck, you all know what to do?”

“I lead the search belowdecks,” said Ashkir.

Osman pointed at another man. “Dubad? Where do you go?”

“My men and I help you secure the pilothouse and radio room.”

“Good.” Osman trained his keen eyes on the group’s hothead, Feysal. “You?”

Sullen and brimming with half-muzzled violence, the youth muttered, “I hold the prisoners on the forecastle.”

“Prisoners, Feysal. Not corpses. Remember that.” He looked at his last henchman, Yusuf. “You need to clear the engine room as fast as possible.”

Yusuf ejected the magazine of his AK-47, blew a speck of beach sand off it, then slapped it back into his rifle. “I know what to do.”

“Everyone remember the plan, and by dawn we’ll all be rich men.” It was not an empty promise. Osman had every reason to believe that this mission would prove as lucrative for his men as it would for him and Sadiq. That had been a key factor in his decision to accept such a dangerous operation against so infamous an adversary. He had come to pay the ransom on his freedom and take back control of his own life.