Read JET - Escape: (Volume 9) Online
Authors: Russell Blake
JET IX
Escape
Russell Blake
Copyright © 2015 by Russell Blake. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact:
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Contents
Books by Russell Blake
Co-authored with Clive Cussler
THE EYE OF HEAVEN
THE SOLOMON CURSE
Thrillers
FATAL EXCHANGE
THE GERONIMO BREACH
ZERO SUM
THE DELPHI CHRONICLE TRILOGY
THE VOYNICH CYPHER
SILVER JUSTICE
UPON A PALE HORSE
DEADLY CALM
RAMSEY’S GOLD
The Assassin Series
KING OF SWORDS
NIGHT OF THE ASSASSIN
RETURN OF THE ASSASSIN
REVENGE OF THE ASSASSIN
BLOOD OF THE ASSASSIN
REQUIEM FOR THE ASSASSIN
The JET Series
JET
JET II – BETRAYAL
JET III – VENGEANCE
JET IV – RECKONING
JET V – LEGACY
JET VI – JUSTICE
JET VII – SANCTUARY
JET VIII – SURVIVAL
JET IX – ESCAPE
JET – OPS FILES (prequel)
JET – OPS FILES; TERROR ALERT
The BLACK Series
BLACK
BLACK IS BACK
BLACK IS THE NEW BLACK
BLACK TO REALITY
Non Fiction
AN ANGEL WITH FUR
HOW TO SELL A GAZILLION EBOOKS
(while drunk, high or incarcerated)
About the Author
Featured in
The Wall Street Journal
,
The Times
, and
The Chicago Tribune
, Russell Blake is
The NY Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of over thirty-five novels, including
Fatal Exchange
,
The Geronimo Breach
,
Zero Sum
,
King of Swords
,
Night of the Assassin
,
Revenge of the Assassin
,
Return of the Assassin
,
Blood of the Assassin
,
Requiem for the Assassin
,
The Delphi Chronicle
trilogy,
The Voynich Cypher
,
Silver Justice
,
JET
,
JET – Ops Files
,
JET – Ops Files: Terror Alert
,
JET II – Betrayal
,
JET III – Vengeance
,
JET IV – Reckoning
,
JET V – Legacy
,
JET VI – Justice
,
JET VII – Sanctuary
,
JET VIII – Survival
,
JET IX – Escape
,
Upon a Pale Horse
,
BLACK
,
BLACK is Back
,
BLACK is The New Black
,
BLACK to Reality
, and
Deadly Calm
.
Non-fiction includes the international bestseller
An Angel With Fur
(animal biography) and
How To Sell A Gazillion eBooks In No Time
(even if drunk, high or incarcerated), a parody of all things writing-related.
Blake is co-author of
The Eye of Heaven
and
The Solomon Curse
, with legendary author Clive Cussler. Blake’s novel
King of Swords
has been translated into German,
The Voynich Cypher
into Bulgarian, and his JET novels into Spanish, German, and Czech.
Blake writes under the moniker R.E. Blake in the NA/YA/Contemporary Romance genres. Novels include
Less Than Nothing
,
More Than Anything
, and
Best Of Everything
.
Having resided in Mexico for a dozen years, Blake enjoys his dogs, fishing, boating, tequila and writing, while battling world domination by clowns. His thoughts, such as they are, can be found at his blog:
RussellBlake.com
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just join my readers’ group here:
Chapter 1
Port-au-Prince, Haiti
A balmy evening breeze drifted across Port-au-Prince bay, carrying with it the taint of decaying marine life and the stink of diesel fuel. The only lights visible were the faint lamps on cargo ships anchored far offshore from the port. The sun had set two hours earlier, sinking into the western sea, a crimson fireball extinguishing itself in a daily ritual of renewal. The warm Caribbean washed onto the rocky shore in gentle breaking swells, swirling around the few fishermen still standing in the shallows with makeshift nets, hoping to catch dinner so they wouldn’t have to go home empty-handed to their impoverished families.
A smallish cargo vessel, its seams weeping russet down the welded plates of its navy blue hull, pulled at the dock lines lashed to one of the concrete jetties that jutted into the water. The battered craft was still plying its island trade decades after the end of its useful life, like a fighter in the tenth round, unwilling to go to the mat no matter how many punches land.
Three islanders stood at an iron gate that protected the jetty, laughing and talking as they watched the sparse traffic pass on the waterfront road. A United Nations armored personnel carrier rumbled along, transporting members of the de facto occupation force both resented and feared by the locals.
Music pulsed from a band playing on the seaside terrace of an open-air restaurant down a spit of beach from the wharf. The establishment was little more than a concrete enclosure with a broad overhang crafted from dried palm fronds and scavenged lumber, but popular with the islanders. Steel drums trilled melodically to a reggae rhythm, playing in time to the flickering torches that surrounded the packed dining area.
The patrons smiled and chatted easily in the welcome relief of the trade winds. The beer was cold and the fish fresh, and everyone a local – tourism in Port-au-Prince had declined to an anemic trickle even before the disastrous earthquake that leveled many of its landmarks in 2010, and had now all but vanished. Haiti had been compared unfavorably to a war zone, which wasn’t far from the truth, given the squalor and rampant violence that visited the tropical paradise on a daily basis.
But for the lucky diners, a collection of some of the most prosperous Haitians, those concerns might have been a million miles away as ebony-skinned waiters drifted among them like wraiths, watching for empty bottles or finished platters on the brightly colored tables.
A large man in an oversized red silk Hawaiian shirt clapped enthusiastically when the band finished its number, and his companions joined in, the gold of their watches and necklaces gleaming in the torchlight and their smiles so white as to be nearly luminescent. Two young women, dressed provocatively in shorts and tank tops that left nothing to the imagination, toasted each other with the last of their rum and Cokes, beaming at their host. The big islander, Jon Renoir, gave the band leader a thumbs-up and cupped his hands to his mouth so his shouted encouragement could be better heard.
“You boys crazy-good tonight, you are,” Renoir yelled in the Creole that was the predominant language of the island. The steel drummer held up his mallets in salute – Renoir was a powerful figure in Haiti, a crime lord who ran the nearby slum of Cité Soleil, easily the most dangerous enclave in one of the world’s most deadly ports.
Renoir dealt in human traffic, providing children to the clandestine pedophile tourists who braved the nation’s dangers to satisfy their forbidden hunger, as well as methamphetamines and cocaine to the Cité Soleil inhabitants, transshipment of weapons and drugs to and from the U.S., murder for hire, kidnapping, torture, slavery – the full gamut of every imaginable criminal activity. He was an island fixture, a multimillionaire in a land of extreme poverty and, as such, received respect from the staff and band, as well as furtive, averted looks from his fellow diners.