White Gold , livre ebook

Saxon Publishing - Rachel Amphlett

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179 pages

English

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Description

A haunted man. A murdered friend. A deadly enemy.Dan Taylor's career as a bomb disposal expert in the British Army ended when an IED killed three of his team and left him scarred for life. Years later, and on the brink of self-destruction, Dan struggles to cope with the nightmares that haunt him.Until the day an estranged friend leaves a voicemail message, moments before he is assassinated in cold blood.Plunged into a global conspiracy, Dan must unravel the research notes Peter Edgewater left behind and locate an explosive device being smuggled towards London by a secretive organisation hell-bent on protecting its assets - and time is running out.White Gold is the first book in an action-packed spy thriller series that fans of Jason Bourne and Jack Reacher are calling "a blast!"The Dan Taylor spy books:The Legacy Device (A Dan Taylor short story prequel)White GoldUnder FireThree Lives DownBehind the WireWhat reviewers are saying about the Dan Taylor spy novel series:'There have been many thrillers coming out in the market today and, from time to time, we find one that completely catches our attention. White Gold is certainly one of them!' Readers Favourites'A gripping story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Get the audio book version it's awesome. I can't recommend it enough' Goodreads'From the explosive opening, to the thrilling ending it had me hooked. It's a fascinating fast moving story.' Goodreads

Sujets

Thriller

Informations

Publié par	Saxon Publishing
Date de parution	16 juillet 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780646558141
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

White Gold
A Dan Taylor Thriller

Rachel Amphlett
Copyright © 2011 by Rachel Amphlett
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The names, characters and events in this book are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For the real Harry
Missed a book? Download the FREE Official Reading Guide and Checklist to Rachel Amphlett’s books here
Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

From the Author
Prologue

JANUARY 2009
Somewhere in Iraq
Dan Taylor pulled at the padded vest, reached underneath it, and flicked another shirt button open.
Sweat poured down his face as the armoured vehicle bucked and swayed along the pot-holed road towards their target. He turned to the man seated beside him. He had to shout to be heard over the roar of the engine. ‘Who called it in Terry?’
The other man shrugged. ‘Some woman walked up to one of the patrols – said her boy had seen a couple of blokes running away from the house opposite and it looked like they’d buried something in the road there.’
Dan nodded, lowered his gaze to his feet and sat, trance-like, waiting for the vehicle to arrive at their destination. He shuffled, trying to work the cramp out of his legs in the tight, confined space. The man opposite kicked his foot. Dan looked up and took the proffered chewing gum with a grunt of thanks.
‘Cheers H.’
Not that a stomach ulcer is a major cause of concern right now , he thought. He pulled at the strap under his chin which held his helmet in place. He felt a headache materialising, the helmet squeezing his skull in the heat.
The armoured vehicle continued to power along the dirt road between dilapidated houses. Most bore battle scars – bullet holes, missing roof tiles. In some places, rubble and twisted metal were the only clues where buildings had once stood.
Dan closed his eyes and let his body move with the twists and turns the vehicle made along the road. The tiredness and exhaustion consumed him. Three months added onto an already extended tour in the desert, the team were struggling to keep their wits about them. Every day, more explosive devices were being detonated by the unit. Just as they safely disposed of one bomb, another two were discovered, lying in wait for them.
Dan opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. They’d been out of the compound for six hours straight, driving from one emergency to another. He tilted his head back, stretching his neck muscles.
A shout from the front seat made him jump. ‘Hang on!’
The vehicle veered around a sharp left-hand bend and the road widened out. Dust whipped across the road as small pebbles spat out from under the wheels of the vehicle. They’d left behind the suburban sprawl of the rocket-shelled town. The houses left standing along the road stood sentinel as the vehicle followed in the day-old tracks of a supply convoy. The main road in and out of the town was a popular target for terrorists. The armoured vehicle accelerated, swinging left and right to dodge the larger craters and pot-holes.
The men sitting on the back panel seats held on to straps hanging from the ceiling of the vehicle and swayed with the motion.
‘Dicko, could your driving possibly get any worse?’ yelled H.
Dan didn’t hear the reply but from the grin across H’s face, he could tell it wasn’t polite. Dicko had once told him he’d been a courier driver in London before signing up – Dan often wondered how temporary that career would have been if Dicko hadn’t suddenly decided on a change of direction. He felt the vehicle slow to a crawl. Dicko spun the wheel and stopped.
A voice called back to them from the passenger seat. ‘Everybody out!’ David Ludlow, a young ambitious captain, shouted over his shoulder. ‘Dan, Mitch – you’re on the robot.’
Dan waited while H leaned over to the back of the wagon and released the door. The team crawled out into the glaring heat. Dust devils whipped up small clouds of dirt and grit. Dan stretched his large frame, and then walked to the passenger door. He leaned against the vehicle while David radioed in their position from the GPS coordinates.
The scenery had all started looking the same after a couple of months into the tour. Dust, sand, dust, and more dust. A burst of static was followed by a faint confirmation from their base.
David replaced the radio and turned to Dan. ‘Let’s do it.’
Dan walked to the back of the vehicle. A breeze off the desert swept the sweat from his face. He held up his hand to shield his deep blue eyes from the sun’s glare and stared down the road ahead of him. A thick haze clung to the afternoon horizon. On the left, further down the road, two burnt-out cars had been pushed out of the way and over to the side, to not to slow yesterday’s supply convoy. Dan blinked and pushed his sunglasses tighter to his face. He turned to help Mitch unload the bomb disposal robot from the wagon.
A small machine, supported on large tracked wheels with two claws at the front and a camera mounted onto the top, the robot enabled the team to get closer to the suspected IED without endangering their own lives.
While the other man went to gauge the terrain, Dan reached into the back of the wagon and pulled out a reinforced case. He opened it, and then unfolded a small laptop and joystick controls. He switched on the computer and was soon relaying commands to the robot on the floor.
It twitched on its tracks, the cable attached to the back of the camera playing out as the robot began to roll away, relaying live pictures back to the computer.
Dan looked up and saw Mitch walking back towards him. ‘All clear?’
Mitch nodded. ‘Terry’s gone to take a look around that house over there, just to make sure no-one sticks their heads out while we do this. There’re hardly any buildings around, which helps. H says there’s not enough cover for snipers.’
Dan looked where Mitch was pointing. The house stood on the left side of the track – mud and bricks, with a low stone wall which hemmed in a goat and some chickens. An old couple stared at them from a front doorway. He watched as Terry approached the building, shouted to the old lady in the doorway and gestured to her they should move away.
Dan turned as David called out commands. ‘Dicko, H – make sure this area is cleared. One-fifty metre boundary. Take a look at those dunes on the perimeter. Keep your eyes open.’
Dan watched as the two men left the sheltered side of the vehicle and strode out into the bright sunshine, their heads swivelling from side to side as they scanned the landscape for any threats to the team. David kept watch from the rear of the vehicle, his eyes flickering over the small crowd of people staring at them from the opposite end of the road.
Dan jumped as Mitch slapped him on the back.
‘Come on posh boy, stop daydreaming. Let’s go play with a bomb.’
Dan shook his head and smirked. After two years working together, Mitch still took the piss out of his Oxfordshire accent. ‘Better still, send the robot. It’s too hot for the suit today.’
He glanced down the road and stopped. ‘Christ – where did he come from?’
Mitch looked up to where Dan pointed.
A young boy had appeared from the side of one of the houses to their right, about fifty metres away. The boy pedalled happily towards the road on a small beat-up green tricycle. He smiled and waved at Dicko and H as they approached. Unaware of the danger he was in, the boy began chattering loudly to them as he cycled faster into the middle of the road.
The two soldiers ran to him, oblivious of their own safety, and waved their hands at him to tell him to stop.
Dan could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he watched H bend down to talk to the boy. He couldn’t have been more than three years old. Dan watched, his throat dry, as the child was sent running back in exactly the same direction he’d cycled from.
As he got to the house, a woman snatched him up in her arms and scolded him. A man held his hand up in thanks. Dicko and H waved at him, indicating the family should go inside and shelter, before they continued their patrol, walking past the discarded tricycle and away towards the dunes.
Dan swallowed and wiped the sweat from his eyes. He breathed out slowly, trying to stop his voice from wavering. ‘Where did the report say the IED was?’
Mitch stood next to Dan and pointed. Dan ignored the fact he could see the other man’s hand shaking. They’d both been scared for the kid. ‘Check out the tyre to the left of the road, about eighty metres away. Got it?’
Dan nodded.
‘Okay – now look to the right of it. You can see where the surface has been dug up and replaced. It’s just a pile of dirt with a bit of debris around it, yeah?’
‘Yeah, okay – I see it.’
Dan moved closer to the laptop and took hold of the small joystick between his finger and thumb. He glanced up at the screen, checked the camera was working properly, and then sent the robot rolling down the road towards its target.
As the