Rare Earth (A Marc Royce Thriller Book #2) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Davis Bunn

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178 pages

English

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Description

Davis Bunn Strikes Gold Once Again! Marc Royce stares down from the helicopter on the Rift Valley slashing across Africa like a scar. Tribal feuds, drought, and dislocation have left their devastation. And he sees a new wound--a once-dormant volcano oozing molten lava across the dry landscape--and clouds of ash obscure his vision. His undercover assignment is similarly obscured. Supposedly dispatched to audit a relief organization's accounts, Marc finds himself amid the squalor and chaos of Kenyan refugee camps caught in a stranglehold of corruption and ruthlessness.But his true task relates to the area's reserves of once-obscure metals now indispensible to high-tech industry. The value of this rare earth inflames tensions on the world's stage as well as among warring tribes. When an Israeli medical administrator, Kitra, seeks Marc's help with her humanitarian efforts, they forge an unexpected link between impoverished African villages and another Silicon Valley rising in the Israeli desert. Precious metals and inventive minds promise new opportunities for prosperity, secure futures, and protection of valuable commodities from terrorists. As Marc prepares to report back to Washington, he seizes a chance to restore justice to this troubled land. This time, he may have gone too far.

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 juillet 2012
Nombre de lectures	1
EAN13	9781441271075
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	9 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0259€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2012 by Davis Bunn
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2012
Ebook corrections 12.12.2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-7107-5
Scripture quotation in chapter six is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Scripture quotations in chapters thirty-two and forty-seven are taken from the Holy Bible, Today’s New International Version®. TNIV®. Copyright © 2001, 2005 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Kirk DouPonce, DogEared Design
Reviewers comment on Bunn’s previous Marc Royce novel, Lion of Babylon
“Description is so vivid you can smell the food and choke on the desert sand. . . . Bunn’s fans will leap for this precise and intricate tale of cross-cultural friendship and loyalty in the heart of the Red Zone.”
Publishers Weekly
“This exciting, action-packed thriller features a strong sense of place in its depictions of the people and politics of the Middle East. It is sure to please [Bunn] fans and win him new ones.”
Library Journal *Selected by Library Journal for the 2011 Best Book Award
“A fast-paced, gripping thriller, Lion of Babylon is rich not only with adventure but also with visual details and dramatic, snapshot insights into the Middle East, its traditions, history, and people.”
Phyllis Tickle Former Sr. Consulting Editor at Publishers Weekly
“A phenomenal read. Lion of Babylon is far more than simply a great thriller. This book delves into a series of crucial issues, and does so with a sensitivity that left me literally stunned. Bunn tells a story that grips the reader and refuses to let go. . . . The descriptions are beautifully crafted, the characters vibrantly drawn.”
Keith Hazard Deputy Director (ret.), CIA
“It is a terrific book, deeply moving with new insights into important connections between the world’s faiths. . . . I have long admired and appreciated Davis’s work and I will say I think this is his finest.”
Jane Kirkpatrick Novelist and Speaker
This book is dedicated to
Michelle and LeRoy Yates .
Dedicated in service, wise in counsel, strong in love.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
Dedication

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About the Author
Books by Davis Bunn
Back Ads
Back Cover
Chapter One
M arc Royce arrived at the latest African crisis by way of a United Nations chopper. He was a last-minute hire, taking the place of a man who had trained hard for the role. Marc had little chance of success. Even his survival was in question. He had spent a week in Nairobi hearing this a dozen times and more each day. He was not welcome, he was not wanted. The four UN staffers sharing the chopper shunned him. They knew Marc was employed by Lodestone, a U.S. company contracted to bring in emergency supplies and do so for a profit. The UN staffers might need his company, but they still treated Marc like a pariah. They chatted among themselves and studied the rising tide of mayhem below them. They did not even acknowledge his presence. Marc was having too good a time to care what they thought. He was headed back into action. It was enough.
Up ahead, a new calamity had struck a region already devastated by drought, famine, and civil war. A volcano near the border between Kenya and Uganda, dormant for centuries, had erupted. Marc had been awakened in Nairobi two hours before sunrise with frantic orders to go out there and make things happen.
He ignored the glares as he shouldered his way in tight to the window. He was not going to miss this first airborne glimpse of his job. The base of Mount Elgon was just visible to his west, but the peak was lost to the ash cloud. Directly ahead of him was a ribbon of fire running from the volcano’s new fissure. The hillside was now split with veins of smoke and fire, a wound of violent hues.
As they swooped in for the final approach, Marc studied the advancing lava flow. Ahead of the molten rock was a flood of people and vehicles fleeing the ruined city of Kitale. From his perch, Marc could see the remnants of a shantytown that crawled its way up the once-verdant slope. The city had been flattened by the earthquake that had preceded the eruption. Where the lava had not touched was only dust and rubble. Kitale was no more.
They landed in a dry riverbed west of the city. The UN relief workers jumped down and departed without a word. Marc had no idea where to go. All he had was a set of vague orders, printed that morning at Lodestone’s airport office. He showed the sheet to the chopper pilot, who grinned at his confusion. “How long have you been at this job?”
“Eight days.”
The copilot slipped off her headphones so she could enjoy the show. The pilot asked, “What kind of training did they give you?”
“I’ve had a week in Nairobi.”
The pilots exchanged a glance. “And before that?”
“I was an accountant. In Baltimore.”
The pilots were laughing out loud now. “Why don’t you just hang tight, let us fly you back to the Nairobi airport. You can catch the big silver bird back to sanity-land.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got a job to do.”
“Man, you’ve got no idea what you’re about to get yourself into.” The pilot pointed out the sun-splashed windscreen. “This place will kill you.”
Marc shouldered his backpack. “Any idea where I check in?”
The two pilots pointed him toward a tent at the border of the landing zone, then dismissed him with a pair of mock salutes.
Were it not for the ash floating like brittle snow, the September air would have been pleasant. The temperature was in the upper eighties, the morning sky a chalky blue. But every now and then a black cloud streaked above Marc’s head, vague shadows that promised danger to come. And off in the distance was a constant low rumble that thrummed through Marc’s boots.
Inside the tent, Marc found controlled chaos. A woman worn down by fatigue and stress inspected his orders. “You’re another mercenary?”
“I’m the new supply officer for Lodestone.”
“What I said.” She shot out a hand. “Passport.”
Marc had it ready for her. She checked his face against the photo. Then she keyed his name into a computer, squinted at the screen, and pointed at the dusty chaos. “See those supply trucks?”
The field beyond was a mini-city of supply mountains and rumbling trucks. “Yes.”
“Four are headed for the French camp named here in your orders. Go check in with the dispatcher.” She inspected him again, her gaze glinting with dark humor. “Don’t expect looks and a smile to get you very far out here.”
“What smile?” Marc replied, but the woman had already turned away.
The four trucks were piled high with cornmeal sacks and water purification systems and medical supplies. Marc knew because he had been given the manifest by a sweating dispatcher who scarcely even glanced at Marc’s credentials. The man was simply glad to find someone willing to take responsibility for the load.
The lead truck was a Volvo with three hundred thousand miles on the clock. The others were in even worse states of repair. Marc’s seat was patched with duct tape. The springs dug into his back with every jouncing dip. The driver was a good-natured Angolan whose name Marc had not caught. They shared the truck’s cab with two other young men, one of whom was stuffed into the rear crawl space. Two more rode perched on top of the load.
The driver spoke a few words in Marc’s direction, laughed at Marc’s lack of understanding, and turned on the radio. The volcano formed a hissing overlay that drowned out the music, so the driver slipped in a tape. The men drummed their hands in time to the tune and chattered constantly. The air was compressed, the men’s fragrance an earthy spice. When they turned west onto the main highway, Marc finally released his smile. He was headed in the one direction he truly relished. Toward action.
The manifest he held was stamped with the emblem of Marc’s company. Lodestone had recently become one of the largest suppliers of humanitarian equipment in Africa. Theirs was a specialty service. Their clients included every major aid agency, along with the United Nations. Whenever and wherever a crisis erupted, the agencies turned to firms like Marc’s to deliver emergency supplies, and do so fast.
But there was a problem. One so large it had rung alarm bells eight thousand miles away. Which was why Marc had been brought in. An outsider who some thought had no chance of success and even less of survival. Before departing for Nairobi, Marc had been repeatedly warned of unseen foes who would make it their business to assure he never made it back alive. Marc had responded that he would have had it no other way.
Now that he was isolated by smoke and fire and turmoil and Africa, Marc wondered at his habit of landing in impossible si