Those in Peril
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In Those in Peril, a nail-biting tale of adventure, bestselling author Wilbur Smith brings his matchless storytelling to bear on the violent, ruthless world of twenty-first-century piracy.
While cruising on the family yacht in the Indian Ocean, nineteen-year-old Cayla Bannock is attacked and taken hostage by Somalian pirates. Her kidnappers demand a staggering ransom: twenty billion dollars. And Cayla's not just anyone--she's the daughter of Hazel Bannock, heiress to the Bannock Oil Corporation, one of the world's foremost oil producers.
The sensitive global political climate means not even the most powerful groups in the world can intervene. Left to handle the problem on her own, Hazel calls on Hector Cross, head of the security agency that protects Bannock Oil. As threats increase and evidence arises of horrific torture, the need to take action becomes more urgent than ever--and soon Hazel and Hector will have no choice but to take the law into their own hands...
graduate of Oxford University, and made a speech in beautifully modulated English extolling the virtues of the Bannock Oil Corporation and the role the company had played in the development of the Emirate’s resources. Then Hazel addressed the distinguished guests. She gave some information on the Golden Goose and her cargo capacity. She spoke of the cost and planning that had gone into the building and launching of the ship and what this would mean for Abu Zara. She explained that the ship was
through.’ Hector switched on the oxygen tap and closed his face mask. He stepped through the hatch into the CO2-drenched compartment and ran down the catwalk in pursuit of Adam. He had to get to him before the gas killed him. He found him slumped against one of the gas pumps in an attitude of prayer, and recognized the white robes before he saw his face. When Hector turned him over he saw that he was already unconscious, but breathing in deep gasps. Hector saw that he had a black leather attaché
buddy, Pierre Jacques, has promised a copy of Rogier’s birth certificate within the hour. Sometimes I just love computers and jovial French coppers, don’t you?’ For the first time he smiled at her. It was strange how the shape of his face changed and softened when he did so. ‘Shall we continue our little fantasy?’ he suggested. ‘Now they have their man on board the Dolphin, and he has some kind of electronic transmitter, probably a transponder. Through him they will know the exact position of
Hector to the owner. After they had gone through the elaborate ritual of greeting, Hector walked around the bus. Three of the windows were cracked and one was missing completely. Hector knelt down to look under the engine. Black oil dripped from the sump, but not in copious amounts. The engine bonnet was held in place with baling wire. Hector opened it and checked the oil level with the dipstick. It was almost full, as was the water in the radiator – clearly recently replenished for his benefit.
trucks had disappeared, Hector counted six bodies that the enemy had left behind them. Two of these were still moving. One man was calling to his comrades for help and the other dragged himself back with both his legs slithering uselessly behind him. The men on the wall opened fire on them with gusto. Before Hector could stop them both the stricken jihadists were dead. Not really cricket, but out here nobody has even heard of the game. He had not the least sympathy with the dead men. He knew he