Deep Black (Stephen Coonts' Deep Black, Book 1) by Stephen Coonts, Jim DeFelice

By Stephen Coonts, Jim DeFelice

A undercover agent airplane amassing facts on a brand new Russian weapon is blown out of the sky via a mysterious MiG. Is it an coincidence or the beginning of the following international struggle? One U.S. supplier has what it takes to discover out-the nationwide protection business enterprise and its covert operations workforce: DEEP BLACK.

Working for the NSA, ex-Marine sniper Charlie Dean is dispatched to Russia, hooking up with former Delta strength trooper Lia DeFrancesca to determine what occurred to the airplane. The Deep Black workforce stumbles throughout a fair extra alarming secret-a plot to assassinate the Russian president and overthrow the democratic govt through strength. The coup can have dire results for Russia and the area. with out clearance from the govt it's referred to as directly to shield, the nationwide defense organisation is going to battle. yet ahead of Lia and Dean can get to the bottom of the conspiracy, they study that one of many undercover agent plane's passengers-an NSA techie-survived the crash. serious info may possibly fall into enemy arms. And that enemy is taking part in to the demise.

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Extra info for Deep Black (Stephen Coonts' Deep Black, Book 1)

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Morton reached out and tugged his coat sleeve. “Come along, Jimmy,” he said softly, feeling, himself, both sorrow and guilt. Half-reluctantly, the young man turned away, and they pushed through the crowd, which was suddenly abuzz with chatter, and even laughter. But neither Morton nor Presley shared in this odd sense of release. They went quite a distance before a hackney-coach presented itself. Morton quietly gave the driver the address of the Bow Street Magistrate's Court, not wanting anyone in the crowd to hear.

Morton saw despair written there, but defiance as well, and anger. “Here's a pleasant diversion for you,” the condemned man hurled out, “watching old Caleb Smeeton and his good wife hang! ” He paused and Morton thought the man would break down, but he went on, strangely calm. “But how did those fine Bow Street men know where to nab us? Just where to be, and at what hour? ” he bitterly answered his own question, and glared out at the crowd. “Friends like you … “Aye, one of our own peached on us… the same as told us about the panney, and what hour the owner would be away.

Acton hesitated. ” The jarvey's shoulders sagged. “Off Cartwright Square,” he said. ” Morton mulled it over a moment more. “What is it you're not telling me, Ralph? ” “Nay, nay. ” The jarvey shifted from foot to foot. Morton stared hard at the man, but it had only the effect of causing him to shift more rapidly. The Runner drew out his hand, with a single shilling in it, which he turned reflectively in his fingers. “I will find out what happened to Mr. Glendinning, Ralph, you may be sure of that.

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