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Librería: Crappy Old Books, Barry, Reino UnidoCrappy Old Books
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Whirlwind (2004) By Joseph R. Garber ? HarperCollins ISBN: 006059652X, Condition: Used, as sold by Crappy Old Books This is the book you grab when you want your thriller not just fast-paced, but actively disrespectful of the concept of ?downtime.? Whirlwind is Joseph R. Garber doing what Joseph R. Garber does best: constructing a conspiracy/espionage/corporate-mayhem blender, dropping in a protagonist with more problems than sleep, hitting ?liquefy,? and letting you deal with the splashback. It?s the sort of novel where by page 40 you?ve already lost track of which powerful organisation wants whom dead, but you?re too busy turning pages to care. This particular copy, heroically rehomed by Crappy Old Books , is proudly and unapologetically Used , which here means: A soft, creased spine that says: ?I have already survived one full read-through, at least one commuter train, and a possibly ill-advised beach holiday.? Light scuffing to the cover , like it?s been in the line of fire in a briefcase alongside keys, receipts, and questionable life choices. Mild page tanning , giving everything a warm, slightly noir-tinted glow?perfect for morally ambiguous thrillers and questionable decisions at speed. Inside, expect the holy trinity of modern thriller essentials: People with secrets People with guns People with laptops who know too much Throw in dangerous tech, corporate schemes, global stakes, and at least one person who definitely should have listened to their instincts and gone home, and you?ve got yourself a Garber situation. You?ll find: Dialogue moving at the speed of a good argument. Plot turns that arrive like unexpected turbulence. Locations that smell of airports, boardrooms, car interiors, and the faint whiff of burning deadlines. Garber writes in that classic early-2000s thriller mode, where: Nobody trusts anyone properly. Everyone is either lying, hiding something, or ?cannot talk about that right now.? The phrase ?we don?t have much time? is less a line of dialogue and more a lifestyle choice. As for this Crappy Old Books veteran, it may also include: A mysterious dog-ear around the point where things go from ?slightly concerning? to ?oh, this is very bad.? Tiny stress-creases on particularly twisty pages, because someone clearly could not put the book down even while juggling actual real-world responsibilities. That gloriously comforting second-hand-book smell: part pulp paper, part dust, part ?somebody else already worried about these characters before you.? You?ll especially enjoy this copy if: You like your stories full of smart people making desperate decisions under pressure. You believe every multinational corporation probably does have a secret agenda, and you?d like fiction to confirm your suspicions in a fun way. You?ve got a train journey, a weekend, or an evening to kill and want your heart rate to spike without leaving the sofa. And because it?s from Crappy Old Books , you get: All the high-octane tension of a brand-new thriller None of the brand-new price tag A book that?s already been ?broken in? for optimal, one-handed, late-night reading while you pretend you?ll stop at the next chapter (you won?t) Take Whirlwind home. Let it drag you through corporate conspiracies, covert operations, and the sort of escalating chaos that makes your inbox look almost peaceful. The only real risk is finishing it too quickly and wondering, just briefly, why your actual life doesn?t involve more high-stakes espionage. Then you?ll remember the meetings, and be grateful it doesn?t.…
N° de ref. del artículo 267
- Título
- Whirlwind
- Autor
- Joseph R Garber
- Editorial
- HarperCollins
- Año de publicación
- 2004
- Estado
- Used
- Encuadernación
- Paperback
- Idioma
- inglés
- ISBN 10
- 006059652X
- ISBN 13
- 9780060596521
Charlie McKenzie was the best in the business of CIA dirty work -- until he was double-crossed by his bosses and jailed to cover up a mammoth intelligence blunder. Now they want him back. And Charlie wants to get even.
A Russian spy has stumbled upon the most important U.S. military breakthrough since the atomic bomb -- a top-secret technology called Whirlwind -- and only the disgraced former operative has the skills necessary to retrieve it. But Charlie already knows too much. And once Whirlwind is back in Company hands, his enemies intend to betray him again -- and put him out of the game permanently.
However, Charlie McKenzie has other plans. And he won't be that easy to kill.
“Sinopsis” puede pertenecer a otra edición de este título.
Fragmento. © Reproducción autorizada. Todos los derechos reservados.
Whirlwind
By Joseph GarberHarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
Copyright © 2005 Joseph GarberAll right reserved.
ISBN: 006059652X
Chapter One
Ah, Vengeance!
Tuesday, July 21.
0700 Hours Eastern Time,
0500 Hours Mountain Time
Charlie McKenzie glared over the rims of his half-moon readingglasses. Shuffling his Washington Post in what he hoped was, but suspectedwas not, an intimidating manner, he reached for his coffee. A newspaper, acup of coffee, a dozy cat in his lap, and a peaceful morning in which to enjoythem -- were they not every man's natural-born prerogatives?
Hugging two-year-old Jason to her hip, Carly brandished a portable telephone."Dad," she said breathlessly. "It's the White House! The national securityadvisor!"
Apparently his daughter held the rights of men, or at least males, in lowesteem. Charlie had no one to blame but himself. Up until the day she died,Mary had insisted that Carly certainly did not get that sort of behavior fromher side of the family.
He turned in his wicker chair, looking out beyond the screened porch,past the long green expanse of a stately lawn, down to Chesapeake Bay. It wasa lovely summer morning, bright but not yet hot. Perfect weather as far as theeye could see -- except in the climatological zone directly above Charlie'sthundercloud brow. "Tell him to go piss up a rope."
"Dad!"
"Tiss upa row," echoed Jason. To which Molly, aged six and peeking around her mother's skirts, added, "Mommy, Jason's saying dirty words."
"Your grandfather's influence. Again!" hissed Carly, thrusting the phoneinto Charlie's lap, then dragging her children away from what doubtlesswould be another bad example.
Charlie raised the phone to his ear. He spoke softly, gently. "Mornin', Sam."
An unctuous answer, amiability's illusion in every syllable: "Charlie! It'sgood to hear you, man! Thank God I caught you at home! Listen, there's aproblem, a helluva problem, and the president personally asked that I call -- "
Speaking in the gentlemanly tones of a sweetly reasonable soul, Charlieinterrupted. "Give him my best personal regards, and tell him I said he canscrew himself."
The portable phone chirped like a digital bird as Charlie fingered theOff button.
Eight seconds, he estimated as he glanced at his outrageously garishwristwatch, a solid gold Rolex President with numbers set in colored gemstones.The preposterous thing was a gift from the Philippine government.That figured. No one in that part of the world had a bit of taste.
... three, four, five ...
As opposed, for example, to the Italians. It was one of their presidents --who could remember which, they never stayed out of jail long enough tomake memorizing their names worth the effort -- who'd given Charlie themonumentally expensive, solid silver Faema espresso maker whose ambrosiahe was savoring at this very moment.
... six, seven, eight ... Ring!
Perfect timing. Charlie McKenzie never missed. Clicking the On button,he smiled beatifically, a man who had been waiting two long years forSam to call, and who planned to enjoy himself mightily now that the rolypolylittle weasel needed help. "Okay, Sam, if bunny brains doesn't know howto do it, tell him first thing he needs a dildo."
Sam's oiliness had dissipated. "Charlie, we don't have time for this."
"'Dildo' usually is synonymous with 'national security advisor,' but notthis time."
Now Sam was feigning sincerity. "This is an emergency. More than anemergency. The word 'crisis' doesn't even begin -- "
"And an industrial-strength motor, the kind they use to run jackhammers."
Goodbye sincerity, hello desperation. "Okay, okay, whatever you want.Name it. It's yours." He paused, then hastily added, "Short of an apology, that is."
Charlie ran a hand down his stubbled cheek. He'd have to shave beforeSam showed up on his doorstep. And that would be -- he eyed his watch -- infifty-seven minutes. "Anything, Sam?"
"If it's in my power, yes."
Yup, definitely desperation. It was a step in the right direction. "Ten milliondollars." Charlie heard a barely audible Shit! "The actuarial tables tellme I've got another thirty-five years to live. Ten million works out to abouttwo hundred and eighty grand a year. That's not much in light of my decadesof loyal and faithful service."
"Put it in T-bills, and the interest is three hundred thousand."
Charlie snorted, "Hey, Sam, if you're so good at math, how come theWhite House can't balance the budget?"
"Quit busting my chops." He cleared his throat before predictablywheedling, "I don't suppose I could appeal to your patriotism?"
Charlie pictured the expression on Sam's pudgy face: slit-eyed calculation.It always was. "You did that last time. This time I'll take cash."
"Damnit, man, you know there's no way I can come up with ten million-- "
"The president's discretionary fund. The unaudited and unpoliced accountCongress dispenses once per annum. Everyone since Millard Fillmorehas used it to pay for botched assassinations, fund quote-freedomfighters-unquote, and compensate that compliant abortionist on J Street whocaters to careless interns."
"This is a pro-life administration, and you know it."
Rumor had it that beneath his exquisitely shellacked exterior, Sam concealeda dangerously explosive temper. Too bad Charlie liked playing withfireworks. "Same as every other administration, the only thing you're pro ispro-reelection."
"Jesus, what turned you into such a cynic?"
"A lifetime in government service."
There was a long silence, broken only by the nearly inaudible drum ofSam's fingers on his desk. Charlie smiled. Charlie waited. And, just asCharlie expected, Sam caved in: "Ten million. Okay. I can handle that. Itwon't be easy, but I think -- "
"Think? You've never thought in your life, Sam. Connived, schemed,and plotted? Sure. But thinking? Uh-uh, no."
"All I'm saying is that it will take time."
"That it will. Five minutes to be precise. I'm logging on to my Swiss bankthen. If my account is ten million dollars plumper than it was yesterday, I'llanswer the phone when you call back. If not ... " Charlie regretted Samcouldn't see his fine and wolfish smirk “. . . then not. Bye now, Sam."
"No! Wait! I don't have your account number!"
"Oh, spare me! My personnel file is on your desk, and my account numberis right there on the first page."
"Err ... why, so it is, but -- "
The phone chirped merrily, a happy little songbird soon to be fed.
Charlie polished off his coffee, set his partially read newspaper on awicker table, and ambled back into the house. The porch led directly to hisden. His Apple PowerBook computer was already alive, alert, and scanningthe Internet for such dubious data as people like Charlie always found beguiling.
He pecked out his Swiss bank's computer address, entered his password,and was just in time to watch his account grow from the token thousand dollarshe kept in it to ten million, one thousand dollars and no (0) cents.
Charlie reached beneath his desk and threw a toggle switch. The computerscreen flickered. His modem was no longer connected to the ultrahigh-bandwidth line the Agency had kindly let him keep after dispensingwith his services. Charlie was now dialing into the World Wide Web via an ordinarytelephone line.
Well, not entirely ordinary ....
Continues...
Excerpted from Whirlwindby Joseph Garber Copyright © 2005 by Joseph Garber. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Crappy Old Books aims to be the online version of our much endangered high street second hand book stores. Here you will find all sorts of junk that you just couldnt imagine. Crappy Old Books also aims to provide all of these books at great rates. The site was concieved on Monday 23rd Novemeber 2009, and is slowly growing. Hopefully over years it'll have much more to offer and will be a joy to browse through, just like our musty second hand book stores of yore.
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