As he ducked he heard the familiar sound, like a giant ripping
heavyweight canvas, an automatic weapon throwing bullets at a
cyclic rate of almost two thousand rounds a minute, and the bullets
tore into the side of the Maserati, beating in the metal with an
ear-numbing clangour, while glass exploded in upon Peter like the
glittering spray as a storm-driven waves strikes a rock. Glass
chips pelted across his back, and stung his cheek and the back of
his neck. They sparkled like a diamond tiara in his hair.’ The
hijacking of a jumbo jet off the Seychelles galvanizes
anti-terrorist chief Peter Stride into the action for which he has
spent a lifetime training. But even in the hail of bullets which
follows, he knows that this is only the beginning of a nightmare.
Stride is the one man who might find the twisted genius who holds
the world hostage – if only his every move were not anticipated by
the enemy . . .