Surface to Air: A Malko Linge Novel by G?rard de Villiers (English) Paperback Bo

Description: Surface to Air by Gérard de Villiers Malko Linge is assigned to tail a novice terrorist who has a plot to blow up Air Force One—and the weapons to make it happen.In New Jersey, Parviz Amritzar is mourning for his family—killed by a U.S. airstrike back in Pakistan—and vowing revenge against his adoptive country. He devises a plan to shoot down Air Force One and gets a lucky break when he reaches a terrorist contact who knows how he can obtain a surface-to-air missile from the Russians. When the CIA picks up on the rumors of this plot, they call on Malko Linge to carefully observe the would-be terrorist. But as soon as Malko thinks he has a handle on the situation, things become more unpredictable and much more dangerous. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Author Biography Gérard de Villiers spent his five-decade career cultivating connnections in the world of international intelligence, which allowed him to masterfully blend fiction with an insiders knowledge of international affairs—and to anticipate geo-political events before they occurred. His bestselling SAS series of some 200 spy novels, starring Malko Linge, was originally published from 1965 until his death in 2013. Review Praise for the Malko Linge novels: "[De Villiers] writes as a hard-headed political realist.... His books tell unvarnished truths that many prefer to ignore." —The Wall Street Journal "Will win fans among those who crave thrilling espionage escapism, especially those who relish Ian Fleming and Clive Cussler." —Booklist "Blazingly fast.... Entertaining.... Readers may wonder why American publishers waited so long to bring the series to this country." —Publishers Weeky "De Villierss books are ahead of the news and sometimes even ahead of events themselves." —The New York Times Magazine Review Quote Praise for the Malko Linge novels: "[De Villiers] writes as a hard-headed political realist.... His books tell unvarnished truths that many prefer to ignore." -- The Wall Street Journal "Will win fans among those who crave thrilling espionage escapism, especially those who relish Ian Fleming and Clive Cussler." -- Booklist "Blazingly fast.... Entertaining.... Readers may wonder why American publishers waited so long to bring the series to this country." -- Publishers Weeky "De Villierss books are ahead of the news and sometimes even ahead of events themselves." -- The New York Times Magazine Excerpt from Book Chapter 1 New Jersey Parviz Amritzar was looking at Benazir but without seeing her. His eyes were locked on the telephone on the night table next to the bed. "Whats the matter with you?" she asked in Urdu. This wasnt the first time he had taken his young wife to a hotel, but they usually started making love as soon as they got to their room. This time was different. For one thing, the Newark Liberty hotel was unusually charmless. It stood less than a mile from the airport runways and featured white walls decorated with banal prints and windows double--glazed against the aircraft noise. For another, Amritzar seemed distracted. A good wife who never questioned her husband, Benazir didnt ask why Amritzar had taken her to this cheesy place. They usually crossed the Hudson to spend weekends at one of the boutique hotels on the West Side of Manhattan. Amritzar had recently brought his aged mother from Pakistan to come live with them, which tended to inhibit his sex life. So he got away as often as he could to enjoy his wife without constraint. He was a wholesale oriental carpet dealer, earned a good living, and aside from making a good Muslims zakat alms, had few expenses. "Im expecting a phone call here," he told Benazir. "After that, we can enjoy ourselves." When he caught her dark gaze, Amritzar felt a pleasant surge of warmth in his belly. His wife really was very beautiful. She followed Islamic practice---she wore a head scarf and dressed modestly when she went out---but in the evening would dress up for her husband. Tonight she was wearing a tight sweater, a wide belt, and high boots. She had made up her mouth with special care and brushed mascara onto her long lashes. "A phone call?" she asked in surprise. "Here?" If it had been on his cell, she would have understood. But a call on the room telephone of a hotel they had just checked in to and which they would leave the next morning? "Thats right," said Amritzar, without explanation. When Benazir looked puzzled, he went over and put his arm around her waist. "Its mens business," he assured her. "Afterward, Ill be all yours." The young woman relaxed in his arms. "I hope youll give me a child," she murmured. Benazir loved her husband as much as he loved her. He was a handsome man, with classic Middle Eastern looks, very dark eyes, and a strong nose and jaw. He spoiled her and showered her with love. A perfect husband. Their lips were about to touch when the telephone rang, startling them both. He ran to the phone and picked it up. "Parviz?" asked an unknown man. The sound sent Amritzars pulse racing. "Thats r--right," he stammered. "Im downstairs at the bar." Amritzar had no time to say anything else. The man had already hung up. "Wait for me here," he told Benazir. "This wont take long. You can watch television." He was already at the door, feeling as moved as the day he had asked for her hand in marriage. The hotels lobby was as impersonal as its rooms, and the bar at the end of the hall was almost empty. Sitting at a table was a swarthy man of about forty wearing a windbreaker over a heavy brown sweater. He didnt stand when Amritzar came over. For a few seconds, the two men looked each other over, their absorption only interrupted when the bartender asked for their order. Without consulting Amritzar, the stranger ordered two Coke Zeros. When they were alone again, the stranger extended his hand and quietly said in Urdu: "Call me Mahmud, brother." Feeling ill at ease, Amritzar sat down. The two men had communicated by email, but this was the first time they were meeting in person. Mahmud broke the silence. "I bring you greetings from those you sent your messages to," he said quietly. "They want you to know they are praying to Allah and his prophet Muhammad, blessed be his name, that your project prove successful, inshallah." "Inshallah," said Amritzar. In the presence of this confident stranger who represented people fighting for the faith and the triumph of Allah, Amritzar suddenly felt himself moving from dream to reality. Six months earlier, he had learned that a missile from an American drone had killed his uncle, his three brothers, their wives, and five of their children. They all lived in the village of Miramshar in the tribal area between Pakistan and Afghanistan. The official explanation? "Regrettable collateral damage due to incorrect targeting data." The coalition authority wrote a letter of apology to the local government and offered to pay for the funerals. But under Islamic law, the bodies had all been buried the very day of the attack, and anyone who accepted dollars from the infidels would have had his hand cut off. The village imam had assured everyone that all the martyred shahids would be under Allahs protection until the end of centuries of centuries. And that jihad would continue until the death of the last infidel. When Amritzar learned the terrible news, he was shattered. He had never been particularly religious, but now he spent hours in the Newark mosque, trying to speak to God. The imam there told him that Allah had sent this trial to test his faith. Over time, Amritzar gradually emerged from his despair, and pain gave way to a burning desire for vengeance. Turning to Wikipedia, he plunged into the study of armed drones. He learned that the ones flown over Afghanistan were piloted long--distance by operators at a base in Nevada. The operators put in eight hours a day, then calmly went home to their families, risking nothing more serious than an occasional upset stomach or head cold. Amritzar initially considered taking revenge on the drone pilots, but they worked on a very secure military base. Besides, he didnt know which individual fired the missile that wiped out his family. He began to visit a mosque close to his home more often. He had always been a believer, and never missed Friday prayers, but he rarely went during the week, preferring to pray at home or in his warehouse. In addition to telling the imam, Amritzar started sharing his newfound hatred of Americans with some of the faithful. One of them suggested that he check out a website said to be closely connected with al--Qaeda that regularly called for jihad. Without much optimism, Amritzar created a Hotmail account so as to communicate in the website chat room, choosing his first name as his username. He posted several messages expressing his desire to participate in jihad but got no answer. Then ten days ago, he received a Hotmail message from someone in a cybercafe calling himself Mahmud632. Amritzar of course noted the year of the Prophets death. Mahmud congratulated Amritzar for his desire to make jihad and asked him a few personal questions. They chatted online, mainly about religious matters. Then Mahmud suggested they meet in person, at the Newark Liberty hotel on Friday at nine p.m. Amritzar decided to take his young wife along, as he sometimes did on a weekend. Now he was face--to--face with the man himself. Mahmud leaned over and again spoke quietly in Urdu. "You dont know who I am, but Ive read the messages that you posted on the website. I believe you are a good Muslim and that you want to take vengeance on the infidels. Have you decided on a plan?" Surprised by the question, Amritzar was silent for a few moments. After studying Mahmuds eyes, he decided to trust him. "Yes, I have," he whispered. "What is it? Do you think that the faithful who are making jihad can help you?" "Maybe." Amritzars thoughts were racing. For months he had dwelled on revenge while feeling sure that he would never be able to get it. After all, he was just a small businessman, a rug merchant. He was wealthy enough, but he didnt have any contact with the people who carried out attacks. What little he knew hed learned on the Internet or by reading specialized magazines. And now this man at the table was turning a dream into reality. "What will you do to avenge your family?" asked Mahmud, sipping his Coke. Amritzar hesitated to answer, and Mahmud pressed him. "We are fighting for the triumph of the same God, brother," he said. "You have to trust me. As I said, Ive come here especially to weigh what is in your heart. Your emails show a sincere desire for revenge, but we have to be careful. The infidels are powerful and very clever. If you really want to avenge your family, you must be ready to sacrifice your life. To become a martyr." "Im ready!" said Amritzar, surprised by the firmness of his own voice. A strange exaltation had come over him. "So tell me what you have in mind." At that, Amritzar began to speak in a quiet, almost inaudible Details ISBN080416939X Short Title SURFACE TO AIR Language English ISBN-10 080416939X ISBN-13 9780804169394 Media Book Pages 304 Year 2016 Publication Date 2016-09-27 Series A Malko Linge Novel Imprint Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Subtitle A Malko Linge Novel Series Number 8 Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2016-09-27 NZ Release Date 2016-09-27 US Release Date 2016-09-27 UK Release Date 2016-09-27 Author Gérard de Villiers Publisher Penguin Random House LLC Format Paperback DEWEY 843.914 Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:137634553;

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