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  • Format: ePub

Dane Hall Labs discover a genetic technique to deliver selective medical treatment. Trident, a group of nationalist fanatics, steal the file to use for their own aims. Their thief is mugged and the file goes missing. "God, Darby. What if someone makes a balls of it? They could wipe out the whole human race." A contract army officer with an assassin on his heels, Dane Hall's security specialist, a pair of detectives, and a vengeful mugger are among those caught up in events. Murder, kidnapping, torture, betrayal and panic ensue in Oman and the UK before a suicide bomber makes the last throw of the dice.…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Dane Hall Labs discover a genetic technique to deliver selective medical treatment. Trident, a group of nationalist fanatics, steal the file to use for their own aims. Their thief is mugged and the file goes missing. "God, Darby. What if someone makes a balls of it? They could wipe out the whole human race." A contract army officer with an assassin on his heels, Dane Hall's security specialist, a pair of detectives, and a vengeful mugger are among those caught up in events. Murder, kidnapping, torture, betrayal and panic ensue in Oman and the UK before a suicide bomber makes the last throw of the dice.


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Autorenporträt
Mike was a slow starter at the writing game. For the first two years of his life he seemed intent on eating and sleeping. Once these skills were mastered he did begin to make his mark, mostly with dirty fingers, lumps of mud and soft crayon. His father was in the RAF (as was his Sergeant Mum during the war) which meant that every so often the family moved on. He was therefore very nearly educated at a lot of schools; two weeks and three days at one lucky establishment. He did eventually learn to wield a pen, but mostly for activities other than writing. As all his forebears, he entered the Armed Forces. Three grandparents in the Army, both parents in the RAF, so he joined the RN. (Historical note: Great uncle George Rowe survived the Titanic and surprisingly he wasn't to blame. He was ex-RN.) The RN was extremely educational. Mike learned how to get blisters on his feet from marching and tabbing across Dartmoor, the Brecon Beacons, and a variety of parade grounds; and on his hands from sawing, chipping and filing cast iron and lumps of steel. He was professionally sick in the Atlantic, the North Sea, and up in the ice during the contretemps with Icelandic fishermen. And, because he was young he wasn't too well in a couple of ports like Hamburg and Amsterdam - water wasn't involved. He left the Navy, tried as many jobs as possible to see what made the world work, and sold a few pathetic stories. After four years servicing the Sultan of Oman's Navy and ten years trying to keep some of the Royal Army of Oman's radio equipment going he had a BA(Hons) and an MBA and sold about fifty stories.