The Killing Grounds: an explosive and gripping thriller for fans of James Patterson. Jack Ford
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СКАЧАТЬ Chapter 95

       Chapter 96

       Chapter 97

       Chapter 98

       Chapter 99

       Chapter 100

       Chapter 101

       Chapter 102

       Chapter 103

       Chapter 104

       Chapter 105

       Chapter 106

       Chapter 107

       Chapter 108

       Chapter 109

       Chapter 110

       Chapter 111

       Chapter 112

       Chapter 113

       Chapter 114

       Chapter 115

       Chapter 116

       Chapter 117

       Chapter 118

       Chapter 119

       Chapter 120

       Chapter 121

       Chapter 122

       Chapter 123

       Chapter 124

       Chapter 125

       Chapter 126

       Chapter 127

       Chapter 128

       Chapter 129

       Chapter 130

       Chapter 131

       Chapter 132

       Chapter 133

       Extract

       Copyright

      Kenya’s northern coast – 30 miles south of the Somali border

      How long does it take a man to realize his life is going to change forever? For Thomas J. Cooper it was barely a moment. Just a flicker of a stare to trace the angles of dark stretching shadows against the oak cabin walls. The slightest of turns towards the fluctuating sounds of the lapping waves. And that was all. Yet it told him everything he needed to know… They were in trouble.

      ‘Jackson…! Jackson…! What the hell…!’

      Knocking over the glass of iced lemonade, Cooper scrambled up from the cream leather recliner he’d been asleep on. Took the yacht’s wood and chrome stairs three at a time. Charging along the highly polished deck of the sleek, white vessel. Cursing to himself as he slipped on the wet.

      Bolting forward, he spotted the tall, sun-drenched figure of Jackson leaning against the bow rails. A bottle of whiskey in hand. A grin on his face. And a half cut look in his eye.

      ‘Hey Coop, is this the life or what? Nothing but open waters. Reckon I should get myself a job on the high seas…’

      Cooper could see he was drunk. And God knows, it was the last thing he needed.

      He watched Jackson step on to the top rails of the yacht.

      Take the last slug of whiskey.

      Throw the bottle casually into the sea.

      Stretched out his arms shouting loudly. Forcing his slurred words to rise high above the sound of the sea. ‘Name the film, Coop… But I’ll give you a clue… I’m king of the world!’

      But Cooper said nothing. Instead, he instinctively squinted up at the African skies.

      Slipped off his watch to lie it flat on his palm.

      Lined up the hour hand to point at the sun.

      Giving him a crude idea of the direction they were sailing in.

      And the knot in his stomach told him it was as he’d feared. North. They were heading north.

      Swaying precariously on the bow rails, Jackson didn’t sense or notice or care or see or feel Cooper’s alarm. ‘Oh come on man, you gotta know. Coop, it’s easy… Titanic. Even my dog СКАЧАТЬ