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Elliot A Masterpiece A fantastic book and really clear orator. The story was exciting and easy to follow 1 of 1 people found this review helpful. Cussler at their best Well narrated one of Cusslers brilliant stories with all the usual intrigue that they usually present 1 of 1 people found this review helpful. Easter Nina Pulling off his racing helmet, he ran his fingers through a thick mat of black hair that framed a tan and rugged face. He looked up as Ramsey approached and extended a hand. His sea-green eyes nearly matched the color of the car and burned with an intelligence Ramsey had rarely observed.

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The driver had the look of a man who lived and played hard. As he spoke, his team of mechanics pushed the French car into the back of a semitrailer truck. Loren recognized the logo, emblazoned on the side, of a red grizzly bear with a pickax in its teeth. We were impressed by the environmental consciousness that surrounds the entire operation. Are you a congresswoman? My misfortune, I should say. What was your interest in the operation, if I may ask? Ramsey, would you care to join us for dinner?

Havana Storm: Dirk Pitt #23

Both occupants waved as Ramsey stared back. Loren turned to Pitt and smiled. Ramsey was too impressed with your maintenance crew. Passing the nearby Civil War battlefield site, he turned onto Interstate 66 and made a beeline toward Washington, D. The Sunday afternoon traffic was light, and Pitt was able to cruise at the speed limit. Reaching the suburb of Rosslyn, Pitt turned onto the George Washington Parkway and followed it south along the Potomac.

The white marble edifice of the Lincoln Memorial gleamed in the fading sunlight as he turned into the entrance of a towering green glass building. He drove the Bentley past a guard station and parked in an underground garage near a keyed elevator, which they rode to the tenth floor. They had entered the headquarters of the National Underwater and Marine Agency, the federal department tasked with stewardship of the seas.

Havana Storm

The agency also used ocean buoys, gliding submersibles, and even a small squadron of aircraft, all linked to a sophisticated satellite network, that allowed constant monitoring of weather, sea states, and even oil spills in nearly real-time fashion. Extending across the face of the wall was a massive video display, illuminating a dozen or more color graphics and images.

Two men were engaged at a central control table in front of the video wall. The smaller of the two, a wiry man with horn-rimmed glasses, noticed Loren and Pitt enter and bounded over to greet them.

Bentley proud today. Hiram can tell you more, but there appears to be a pattern of unusual dead zones cropping up south of Cuba. An ardent nonconformist, Yaeger wore his long hair wrapped in a ponytail and dressed like he had just staggered out of a biker bar. He pointed to the top corner of the video wall where a large satellite image of the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea dominated the screen.

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Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt Series #23) by Clive Cussler, Dirk Cussler |, Paperback | Barnes & NobleĀ®

A second photo appeared, which overlapped the original with brilliant colors. A bright red band arced across the eastern Gulf Coast shoreline. The seas off the Mississippi River Delta are a textbook dead zone. Rich nutrients in the river from fertilizers and other chemical runoffs create explosive growths of planktonā€”algae blooms.

Loren noted the lingering bands of magenta that discolored the coastal waters from Texas to Alabama. He pointed to a trio of burgundy blotches that dotted the waters northwest of Jamaica. The patches were spread across an irregular line, extending past the Cayman Islands to near the western tip of Cuba. Yaeger tapped at his keyboard, zooming in on the area. They were fast-forming but may be somewhat temporary in nature. The initial photo showed no anomalies. A brightly hued spot appeared in the next image, then two more burgundy patches in the following photos. As each new dead zone appeared, the earlier spots faded slightly.

As you can see, there seems to be a pattern from southeast to northwest. Pitt eyed the multiple dead zones as they progressed. A criminal polluter would likely just dump in one spot. Loren looked back at the view off Louisiana. Pitt nodded. What do our hydrographic buoys have to say? Yaeger brought up a new screen, showing a global schematic. Hundreds of tiny flashing lights peppered the map, representing NUMA sea buoys deployed around the world. He zeroed in on the Caribbean, highlighting a few dozen buoys. None were located near the dead zones.

The Revolution Day party wound down early. It had been sixty-three years since Fidel Castro and a band of rebels attacked an Army barracks in Santiago, setting off the eventual overthrow of Cuban leader Fulgencio Batista. These days, there seemed little worth celebrating. The economy was still in tatters, food was in short supply, and the technological leaps the rest of the world enjoyed seemed to be passing the country by. On top of that, rumors were rampant, yet again, that El Comandante was near his last breath. Alphonse Ortiz drained the mojito, his sixth of the night, and weaved his way toward the door of the stylishly furnished apartment.

The wife of the Agriculture Minister, she was a buxom woman buried under a mask of heavy makeup. Is Escobar about? The woman smiled at the false compliment. Good luck with your speech tomorrow. Ortiz, a highly regarded Cuban vice president on the powerful Council of State, gave a wobbly bow and escaped out the door. Five hours trapped conversing with half the Cuban cabinet had left him hungering for fresh air. Easing himself down three flights of stairs, he crossed an austere lobby and stepped onto the street. A blast of warm air greeted him, with the sounds of revelers celebrating the national holiday.

Ortiz stepped across the crumbling sidewalk and waved at a parked black sedan. Its headlights popped on and the Chinese-made Geely zipped up to the curb. Ortiz opened the rear door and collapsed into the backseat.

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Stupid fools just want to relive the past. Nobody in our government bothers thinking about tomorrow. He likes your thinking. One day, he puts you in charge. It was a possibility, Ortiz knew.