White Plague (A Joe Rush Novel)
BY the writer OF PROTOCOL ZERO
“Relentless motion and suspense at the unforgiving terrain of the Arctic, the world's final frontier.”—Alex Berenson, number 1 New York Times Bestselling writer of Twelve Days
“If you're keen on Tom Clancy and Martin Cruz Smith, you then have to learn James Abel.”—Linda Fairstein
In the distant waters of the Arctic Ocean, the technologically complex submarine USS Montana is adrift and in flames. The venture that falls to Marine physician and bioterror specialist Joe Rush and his staff: Rescue the team of the Montana and continue the vessel out of enemy hands.
But the surviving staff should not on my own at the submarine. a dangerous plague from the earlier is trapped with them. And the group of the Montana has unknowingly set it loose.
however the view the following used to be pristine, air so transparent that i'll see 3 climate platforms concurrently. without delay above, the sky remained light blue, washed out with chilly, that gauzy sunlight noticeable. To starboard lay a low, grey mass, the sky of an altogether assorted planet. To port, a path which the send regrettably looked to be turning, awaited a ragged, bruised colour, a thick, soiled violet that appeared to pulsate with malevolence, smearing the horizon, an commercial to show away. “Clinton.
most well-liked to reserve it. KLINGHOFF: We’ll proceed our speak less than the idea that Dr. Rush has visible it. BURGOYNE: that's regrettably greater than i will say for us. nonetheless, the assumption of destroying our personal people . . . There has to be otherwise. GRADY: might you relatively they achieve land? That the disorder will get out? You observed the unfold projections. PELFREY: How can it succeed in land if we cease the send? you retain her offshore, see if the ailment burns itself out, or we determine how to kill it. KLINGHOFF:.
Lockers and fan rooms, workshops, laptop outlets, shop and provide rooms, prop shaft region, bow thruster room, twenty thousand cubic toes of shipment space for storing on my own. The ship’s planners had maximized using house. there have been no spare inches. I went cabin to cabin. I opened a door slowly; nobody used to be alleged to be within the junior officer stateroom. I scanned empty bunks, a table, a poster of the singer Adele, as a soundtrack left on performed Kelly Clarkson doing “Stronger.” within the subsequent cabin have been.
Eel form with greenish present flowing prior, and low bergy bits. Then the hatch opened and fur-hatted squaddies climbed out onto the deck, by means of workforce participants donning bulky-looking hazmat matches. Eddie asserting bitterly, “Looks like Zhou believed you in regards to the illness at the Montana.” Eyeing the matches, I recalled the round motions of Del Grazo’s arm previous at the screens, while his again was once became. I understood what he’d been doing without notice. I’d obvious it adequate in hospitals.
Close-up glance. “I’m Marietta Cristobel,” the girl within the doorway acknowledged. The nation’s leading Arctic sea ice expert—“ice forecaster”—was plump and fortyish, with curly black hair streaked with grey, brushed to her shoulders. The eyes have been black, pores and skin a tea colour, garments free yet hot having a look: corduroy painter’s pants over japanese Mountain lace-up boots, crimson and black checkered flannel blouse, fleece zip-up vest with an outer pocket displaying the top of a skinny cigar. This woman’s skill to.