Delhi
A Covert-Ops Suspense Action Novel
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- ¥1,400
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- ¥1,400
発行者による作品情報
Zeb and his team return to India.
Their enemies are determined they don't leave it alive.
Zeb and his crew weren't expecting fireworks when they arrived in Delhi.
Joint training exercises with RAW, India's secretive counter-terrorism outfit, great company and good food ... they didn't have anything else planned.
Until they were attacked and the shooters escaped leaving several dead behind.
The Agency and RAW go into high alert but there is nothing to go on. The assassins have disappeared in the crowded streets of the city.
Were they targeting Zeb and his friends? Were they after the Indian outfit?
There is barely any time to launch an investigation before the next killing wave and as more bodies litter the ground, Zeb realizes this isn't just any old enemy.
Whoever is behind the targeted, merciless killings has a larger motive and seems to be working to a timeline.
India is the United States' largest ally in South Asia.
There is nothing the Agency team won't do to help their Indian counterparts.
Zeb Carter, his crew, and RAW.
They don't have rules.
Neither do the killers.
In one of the oldest cities in the world, where old and new meet and history will be made.
One way or another.
'Ty Patterson is up there with Lee Child, Brad Thor, Gregg Hurwitz and Vince Flynn'
Zeb was the last.
He jogged behind his crew who were with the RAW team.
RAW. Research and Analysis Wing. India's secretive foreign intelligence and counter-terrorism division.
He and his team were in the country on a joint training exercise with their Indian peers.
Vikram Kohli and Meera Ranganathan, their close friends, leading the RAW group at the front.
Zeb was in no hurry to join them even though Beth turned back and beckoned at him several times.
He was happy to pound the pavement, bringing up the rear.
New Delhi in January.
The country had just finished celebrating its Republic Day - when it became a constitutional monarchy,
breaking all ties to its colonial conquerors.
Streamers on the concrete pavement. Posters and decorations still handing off cables strung between lamp posts.
They were jogging through the historic Red Fort complex, through the lush park surrounding the old building.
Vikram had taken permission for them to train inside the grounds. No other traffic. Just them in the chilly, early January, morning air of Delhi.
A light fog which wasn't thick enough to block the sun's rays.
A faint smell of cooking wafting on the breeze.
Zeb grinned as he recalled Bwana's expression when Vikram's invitation had landed.
His friend loved visiting the country for its warmth , the sights, sounds and colors ... but also for the food.
He was still smiling when the SUV came up from behind, and sped past him.
Its windows rolled down.
Rifle barrels stuck out.
They opened fire on his and the RAW teams.