Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt Adventures)

Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt Adventures)

Clive Cussler, Dirk Cussler

Language: English

Pages: 627

ISBN: 0425242390

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

A priceless treasure recovered. A powerful empire resurrected. Dirk Pitt is on the move.

The Beyonders Trilogy (A World Without Heroes/Seeds of Rebellion/Chasing the Prophecy)

The Dead Of Night (Tomorrow, Book 2)

The Emerald Storm (Ethan Gage, Book 5)

Biggles In Spain

Melting Stones

Redwall (Redwall, Book 1)












that flickered with intelligence. They were reflective eyes, hardened by adversity and numerous brushes with death, yet they softened easily with humor. He rubbed his hand through thick ebony hair flecked with gray, then he stepped onto the bridge of the research vessel Aegean Explorer. “Rudi, we’ve surveyed a good chunk of the bottom between here and Chios, haven’t we?” he asked. A diminutive man with horn-rimmed glasses looked up from a computer station and nodded his head. “Yes, our last

might want to give Sandecker a call back.” “I already have. He said he’ll wake some people up over here.” “He better. There may not be much time. Thanks, Rudi.” “Be careful and stay afloat. Explorer out.” “Let’s just hope Celik doesn’t own the Turkish Navy and the Coast Guard, too,” Giordino muttered. Pitt wondered how far Celik’s corrupt reach actually extended, but there was little he could do about it now. He glanced at the nav screen, noting that they were now traveling at forty-seven

and stretching. “The same rock and sand that’s been rolling by all night. Outside of a small sunken fishing boat that Dirk picked up, it’s been slim pickings.” “I just checked with Al in the survey shack,” she said, slipping into Pitt’s seat. “He said they’ve got similar results with the AUV.” “We’re nearly at the end of this grid,” Pitt said. “Shall we keep working west?” Summer smiled at her father. “When it comes to finding a shipwreck, I know better than to question your instincts.” “Then

then assisting the vehicle’s occupants up the gangway. From their dress, he judged the two arrivals as a politician and a high-ranking military officer. He caught a quick glimpse of the officer’s face, smiling to himself as he noted that the man wore a heavy mustache. “Time to make our delivery, Dolly,” he said aloud. He stepped into the shadows, where a weather-beaten cart was hitched to a saddled horse. Stuffing the binoculars under the seat, he climbed aboard and slapped the reins. Dolly, an

from Kitchener’s relatives, along with what seemed an endless trail of correspondence from building contractors, who were being cajoled and pushed by Kitchener to complete refurbishments on Broome Park. “Look how cute this is,” she said, holding up a card of a hand-drawn butterfly sent from Kitchener’s three-year-old niece. “The gruff old general was quite close with his sister and brothers and their children,” Julie said. “Looking at an individual’s personal correspondence is a great way to

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