The Golden Hour (A Judd Ryker Novel)

By Todd Moss


A amazing mystery debut of twenty-first-century espionage, by means of a former Deputy Assistant Secretary of country who “knows the place the entire our bodies are buried—literally" (W. E. B. Griffin).

The Golden Hour: In overseas politics, the hundred hours following a coup, whilst there's nonetheless an opportunity that international relations, a mystery again channel, army action—something—may opposite the chain of events.

As the director of the hot nation division main issue response Unit, Judd Ryker will get an opportunity to end up that his idea of the Golden Hour really works, while there’s a coup in Mali. yet within the genuine international, these hours contain issues he’s by no means even imagined.

As Ryker races from Washington to Europe and around the Sahara desolate tract, he unearths that personalities, loyalties—everything he notion he knew—begin to shift underneath his ft, and that associates and enemies are available many types.

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33. UNKNOWN position WEDNESDAY, 6:35 A. M. GMT She smelled cigarette smoke and bitter milk. She tasted dried blood on her reduce lip. Her mouth was once parched. Katie used to be up yet no longer thoroughly wide awake. It felt like morning, yet she wasn’t definite. She couldn’t see whatever as the burlap sack used to be again over her head, tied tightly round her neck. She hadn’t gotten a lot sleep the former evening as the rope keeping her wrists was once rubbing the surface uncooked and the discomfort jolted her conscious at any time when she moved. The discomfort and the phobia. Katie’s preliminary terror had receded intermittently and been changed by way of the boredom and confusion of lengthy hours at the hours of darkness with not anything yet her personal innovations. As she opened her eyes and observed not anything, an identical questions instantly churned in her head. Who may kidnap me? What may possibly they almost certainly wish? Does an individual even be aware of I’m the following? the place is right here? The earlier hours supplied no solutions to these mysteries. No clues. She was once, in each feel, at midnight. The questions light and the dread lower back each time she heard footsteps forthcoming. Crowding out every little thing else, Am I going to die? Katie comforted herself with the truth that she was once nonetheless alive. in the event that they had desired to kill her, she’d be useless already, she repeated in her head. except for a busted lip from being thrown into the truck—she had stupidly attempted to resist—no one had damage her. except a few damaged English not easy that she learn right into a digicam a nonsensical assertion approximately U. S. troops leaving Mali and Pakistan, not anyone had even spoken to her. might that finish up on CNN? might that be her fifteen mins of popularity, rather than the lifetime of noblesse oblige she had anticipated of herself? That her father had anticipated? How far away these plans now felt, captive, mendacity on a dust ground, arms certain. How ludicrous. C’est ridicule. Her concepts of self-pity have been damaged back through loud shouting. She couldn’t inform what path it used to be coming from, however it was once certainly getting nearer. She didn’t realize the language. It used to be neither French nor Arabic. used to be it Tamasheq, the Tuareg tongue? that will be larger than Arabic. Her fingers have been sweating. The yelling grew louder. Her throat began to burn. by surprise the shouting stopped, and he or she exhaled in reduction. Then the door banged open. She used to be pulled up via her elbow and yanked violently to her toes. She began to scream yet quick learned it used to be unnecessary. Flooding again into her head, Am I going to die now? 34. PRESIDENTIAL PALACE, BAMAKO WEDNESDAY, 7:15 A. M. GMT The convoy grew to become onto the extensive highway major as much as the palace. On every one nook have been small teams of infantrymen, a few showing no older than 16, keeping outsized computerized guns. They have been chatting casually and didn't seem worried. because the ambassador’s motor vehicle handed, they jumped to consciousness and saluted. Judd scanned the street for armed team of workers vendors. He nudged Larissa. “I may have concept the road will be coated with troops and hippos as a exhibit of strength. the place is all people? ” “It’s an indication of normalcy. Idrissa is making an attempt to venture the picture that every little thing is okay.

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