Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt)
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"Clive Cussler has no equal," writes Publishers Weekly, and he proved it again with the intricate plotting and astonishing set pieces of his number-one bestselling Atlantis Found. Fans wanted to know how he could possibly top it—and the answer is Valhalla Rising.
It is July 2003. In the middle of its maiden voyage, the luxury cruise ship Emerald Dolphin suddenly catches fire and sinks. What caused it? Why didn't the alarms go off? What was its connection to the revolutionary new engines powering the ship? NUMA special projects director Dirk Pitt races to rescue the passengers and investigate the disaster, but he has no idea of the bizarre events that are about to engulf him.
Before the next few weeks are over, Pitt will find himself confronted by an extraordinary series of monsters, both human and mechanical, modern and ancient. He will tread upon territory previously known only to legend. And, at the end of it all, though many lives will be lost, and many saved, it is Pitt's own life that will be changed forever. . . .
Filled with dazzling suspense and breathtaking action, Valhalla Rising is Cussler at the height of his storytelling powers.
fear, but rather cold wrath. He decided to fight fire with fire. “Now that I know where I stand, I shall leave you to your dessert. But my friends here will remain.” “What does he mean?” asked Kelly fearfully. “He means that as soon as he is on his way down the highway, safe in his limousine, his flunkies intend to shoot us.” “Here, in front of all these people?” queried Giordino. “And without masks? Your flair for drama is pretty tawdry.” Caution was edging around Zale’s blue-white eyes.
sea, as gulls swooped down into the water rushing past the gigantic hull. “I don’t like the looks of it,” he said flatly. Dover turned to his radioman, who was standing nearby with a portable radio plugged into the bridge speaker. “Contact our helicopters and ask if they see any signs of hostile activity.” The radioman complied and waited until a voice replied over the speaker. “Admiral Dover, Lieutenant Hooker in Chase One. Except for a crewman who appears to be checking pipe fittings and the
he knew he wasn’t home free, not yet. The Mongol Invader may have been closing in on the Verrazano Bridge, but Kanai was certain that whoever was in command of the intercept operation would call in military jet fighters before the ship reached relative safety under and beyond the bridge. Dover checked his body for wounds. He was bleeding from shrapnel cuts on his left shoulder and the side of his head. He felt for his ear and found it dangling by a shred of flesh. Out of frustration more than
and forehead, splattered with oil and barely able to see through the smoke, Pitt shouted out in glorious defiance. “Curse you, Red Baron!” Too late, the leather-helmeted head in the red cockpit spun around and saw the silver trimotor boring through the air within twenty feet. He hurled the Fokker into a violent bank, flipping it on its wingtips. It was the wrong move. Pitt had outguessed him. If he’d pulled up in a steep climb, the trimotor would have been helpless to follow, not with the
“She’s overbuilt,” snorted O’Malley. “More expense and planning went into the palatial decor than into the true guts of the engineering systems. Successful sea trials or not, I wouldn’t be surprised if she goes down and doesn’t come up.” “Somehow I hate to hear those words from an expert on ship construction,” muttered Giordino. Pitt folded his arms across his chest. “My primary concern is that the disaster will be caused by human hands.” O’Malley looked at him. “Do you know how many places a