Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page BOOK ONE - “come, josephine in my flying machine” Chapter 1 Chapter 2 - “Hoopla!” Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 BOOK TWO - “balance yourself like a bird on a beam” Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 BOOK THREE - “up, up, a little bit higher” Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 BOOK FOUR - “in the air she goes! there she goes!” Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 EPILOGUE DIRK PITT® ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER Crescent Dawn (with Dirk Cussler) Arctic Drift Dragon (with Dirk Cussler) Treasure of Khan (with Dirk Cussler) Black Wind Cyclops (with Dirk Cussler) Trojan Odyssey Deep Six Valhalla Rising Pacific Vortex! Atlantis Found Night Probe! Flood Tide Vixen 03 Shock Wave Raise the Titanic! Inca Gold Iceberg Sahara The Mediterranean Caper FARGO ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER (with Grant Blackwood) The Kingdom Lost Empire Spartan Gold ISAAC BELL NOVELS BY CLIVE CUSSLER The Spy (with Justin Scott) The Wrecker (with Justin Scott) The Chase KURT AUSTIN ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER (with Paul Kemprecos) Medusa White Death The Navigator Fire Ice Polar Shift Blue Gold Lost City Serpent OREGON FILES ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER (with Jack Du Brul ) The Jungle The Silent Sea Corsair Plague Ship Skeleton Coast Dark Watch (with Craig Dirgo) Golden Buddha Sacred Stone NONFICTION BY CLIVE CUSSLER AND CRAIG DIRGO The Sea Hunters The Sea Hunters II Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS Publishers Since 1838 Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA • Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) • Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi–110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Copyright © 2011 by Sandecker, RLLLP All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorized editions. Published simultaneously in Canada Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Cussler, Clive. The race / Clive Cussler and Justin Scott. p. cm. ISBN : 978-1-101-54773-1 1. Bell, Isaac (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Private investigators—Fiction. I. Scott, Justin. II. Title. PS3553.U75R 813’.54—dc22 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. While the authors have made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the authors assume any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. http://us.penguingroup.com PROLOGUE “the moon is on fire” Chicago 1899 A TALL DRUNK DANCED ALONE IN THE GUTTER, singing a Stephen Foster song loved by the Anti-Saloon League. The melody was mournful, reminiscent of Scottish pipes, the tempo a slow waltz. His voice, a warm baritone, rang with heartfelt regret for promises broken. “Oh! comrades, fill no glass for me “To drown my soul in liquid flame . . .” He had a golden head of hair, and a fine, strong profile. His extreme youth—he could not have been more than twenty—made his condition even sadder. His clothes looked slept in, matted with straw, and short in the arms and legs, like handouts from a church basement or lifted from a clothesline. His linen collar was askew, his shirt was missing a cuff, and he had no hat despite the cold. Of gentleman’s treasures to sell for drink, made-to-order calfskin boots were all he had left. He bumped into a lamppost and lost the thread of the lyric. Still humming the poignant tune, still trying to waltz, he dodged a potter’s field morgue wagon pulling up at the curb. The driver tied his horses and bounded through the swinging doors of the nearest of the many saloons spilling yellow light on the cobblestones. The drunken youth reeled against the somber black wagon and held on tight. He studied the saloon. Was it one where he would be welcomed? Or had he already been thrown out? He patted empty pockets. He shrugged sadly. His eyes roved the storefronts: five-cent lodging houses, brothels, pawnbrokers. He considered his boots. Then he lifted his gaze to the newspaper dealer’s depot on the corner, where press wagons were delivering Chicago’s early editions. Could he beg a few pennies’ work unloading the bundled newspapers? He squared his shoulders and commenced a slow waltz toward the depot. “When I was young I felt the tide “Of aspiration undefiled. “But manhood’s years have wronged the pride “My parents centered in their child.” The newsboys lining up to buy their papers were street-toughened twelve-year-olds. They made fun of the drunk as he approached until one of them locked gazes with his strangely soft violet-blue eyes. “Leave him alone!” he told his friends, and the tall young man whispered, “Thanks, shonny. Whuss yer name?” “Wally Laughlin.” “You’ve a kind soul, Wally Laughlin. Don’t end up like me.” “I TOLD YOU TO GET RID OF THE DRUNK,” said
