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To the people who’d hired him, timing was important.And being late, even by a few minutes, was never a good thing. They too were staring at the structure, their eyes bugged out. Even though this was not the first such structure they had seen it was still a monstrous sight, especially at night.It was the same question regardless of whether your ride was in the water or thirty thousand feet above it. We start throwing them overboard, we might as well jump in too.” “Tell me some shit I don’t know,” the captain snapped. To the naked eye there wasn’t a big difference between forty and forty-seven miles per hour on the water, but with the reduced fuel burn it could be the difference between running dry or making it.He caught the eye of one of his men and beckoned him over. He made a decision and eased off the throttles, cutting their speed back to forty miles per hour. They would fuel up, and the return trip, with only five of them on board, would be no problem.He counted more minutes in his head at the same time as he scanned the boat’s gauges. He might as well put a gun to his own head and pull the trigger.

It beat the hell out of driving his boat for pasty tourists from the North looking to land a tuna or marlin but more often simply puking all over his boat in rough seas.The MP was an awesome killing weapon at close quarters. The captain had time to put up his hand, as though flesh and bone would block shaped ordnance coming at him far faster than a jumbo jet could fly.When it hit him it did so with thousands of foot-pounds of kinetic energy. THE FORGOTTENArmy Special Agent John Puller is the best there is. Now he has a new case—but this time, the crime is personal: His aunt has been found dead in Paradise, Florida. Army relies on to investigate the toughest crimes facing the nation.