Chapters (96)
- Cover
- Berkley titles by David Ricciardi
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- CHARACTER LIST
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EIGHTY-FIVE
- EIGHTY-SIX
- EIGHTY-SEVEN
- Children of Fallen Patriots Foundation
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Back on the bridge, the boarding team leader shut off the ship’s position-reporting system and turned the tanker southeast, toward Indonesia, where the cargo would be unloaded at an unscrupulous tank farm and blended with other crudes to obscure its origin. In a few weeks the oil would be sold to legitimate buyers in Asia with falsified bills of lading.
One of the pirates lowered the ship’s Greek flag and tossed it overboard.
The Symi had been off the grid for less than fifteen minutes.
THIRTY-TWO
JAKE SPENT THE night at the Westin and took off from Athens International Airport just after ten in the morning. He was nearly to Mogadishu when the flight crew told him he had an incoming call on the Gulfstream’s encrypted communications set.
It was Ted Graves.
“Another tanker is missing.”
“What was its last known position?” Jake said.
“Gulf of Oman—around two hundred fifty miles past the Strait of Hormuz.”
Jake did some quick math in his head.
“It was the Symi, wasn’t it?”
He knew the ship’s route and timing.
Graves was silent.
“You sacrificed the one ship that hurts us the most.”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” said Graves. “We needed to validate the intelligence.”
“Melodramatic? You had me fly here to persuade Athena Romanos for more time, and then you used that time to send twenty-three of her men to their graves. You betrayed her trust and mine.”
“We’re not here to make friends, Keller. We’re here to protect the interests of the United States of America. And don’t worry about Romanos—today is the day she was going to turn the ship around. It would have been too late anyway.”
“She would have turned it around four days ago if I hadn’t begged her not to.”
“You were doing your job. She’ll understand that. People don’t become billionaires by playing nice all the time.”
“Ted, I want to make sure you understand that there is a very real chance that she’s going to go to INTERPOL, either because she thinks we’re incompetent or she realizes that we’ve been lying to her. If she does that, they’ll alert the Somalis, and Yaxaas will vanish. The mission will be over.”
Graves leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles.
“Where are you now?”
“We just passed Djibouti,” Jake said. “We’ll be wheels-down in Mogadishu in an hour.”
“Make a U-turn.”
“What?”
Graves spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child.