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- KurzbeschreibungNo. 1 New York Times bestselling author Brad Thor returns with his hottest and most action-packed thriller yet! And don't miss FREE FALL: A Prelude to Hidden Order, available for free download now!<br>The most secretive organization in America operates without any accountability to the American people. Hiding in the shadows, pretending to be part of the United States government, its power is beyond measure.<br>Control of this organization has just been lost and the future of the nation thrust into peril.<br>When the five candidates being considered to head this mysterious agency suddenly go missing, covert counterterrorism operative Scot Harvath is summoned to Washington and set loose on the most dangerous chase ever to playout on American soil.<br>But as the candidates begin turning up murdered, the chase becomes an all-too-public spectacle, with every indicator suggesting that the plot has its roots in a shadowy American cabal founded in the 1700s.<br>With the United States on the verge of collapse, Harvath must untangle a web of conspiracy centuries in the making and head off the greatest threat America has ever seen.<br>This is thriller writing at its absolute best, where the stakes have never been higher, nor the line between good and evil so hard to discern.
- AutorBrad Thor
- SerieScot Harvath
- FormatGebundene Ausgabe
- Seiten384 Seiten
- Gewicht567 g
- LeseprobeHidden Order CHAPTER 1<br>LUFTHANSA FIRST-CLASS LOUNGE<br>FRANKFURT AIRPORT<br>GERMANY<br>Lydia Ryan looked up from her tablet as a waiter set a drink in front of her. "I didn't order this," she said.<br>"No, ma'am," replied the waiter. "It is from the gentleman."<br>Ryan shut down the tablet and cautiously glanced around the sleek, chrome-and-leather-accented room. She didn't see anyone looking back at her. "What gentleman?"<br>As the waiter smiled, a man seated in the area behind her said, "This gentleman." Ryan recognized the voice almost immediately.<br>"May I join you?" he asked as she turned around to face him.<br>Before she could respond, the man had already stood, his own drink in hand, and was walking around to her.<br>While paths did sometimes cross in the intelligence world, Ryan knew better than to believe in coincidences. The fact that she and Nafi Nasiri, deputy chief of the Jordanian General Intelligence Department, were in the same airport lounge was no accident.<br>He was in his late forties, tall, with medium-length black hair and refined, handsome features. He came from a wealthy family related to the King and had been educated in England and the United States. He had a penchant for dark Italian suits and his shoes were always highly polished. On his left wrist he wore the same elegant Patek Philippe watch that Ryan remembered.<br>"It's good to see you again, Lydia," he said as he set a briefcase down and took the seat facing her.<br>"It's been a long time, Nafi."<br>"Even so, you haven't changed at all. You're still as beautiful as ever."<br>Still the player, she thought to herself as she smiled and shook her head. "How's the shoulder?" she asked, beating him to the punch.<br>Reaching across his body, he massaged his right shoulder. "I find the changes in barometric pressure difficult, particularly before it rains."<br>Three years ago, Nasiri had knocked her to the ground as a suicide bomber was about to detonate. He had taken shrapnel in his upper arm and had used the injury ever since as an attempt to guilt her into sleeping with him. "That's too bad. I guess it's a good thing you live in the desert, huh?"<br>Nasiri smiled. He had worked with multiple female intelligence agents over the years and had been able to break all of them down-all of them except Ryan.<br>She was like no woman he had ever met. The stunning product of a Greek mother and Irish father, she was tall-at least five foot, ten inches-with a mane of thick, dark hair framing an aristocratic face, illuminated by two large, deep green eyes. The fact that she had never said yes to him made him want her all the more.<br>She was also a highly adept field operative
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