White Cargo
Authors: Stuart Woods
Critical Acclaim for Stuart Woods
THE RUN
“Suspenseful and thoughtful . . . As usual, Woods has laid out a smooth, fast pace, a plot with visceral scenes, and twists and turns that dare the reader to
try
and figure out what will come next.”
Florida Times-Union
“Stuart Woods has a successful thriller formula: take a nice guy, put him in a tough situation, add some real bad guys and a dollop of sex. We know the nice guy is going to win, but Woods's talent is keeping an edge.”
Toronto Globe & Mail
“The prolific Woods returns to his roots . . . . Lee would probably make a great president.”
Publishers
Weekly
WORST FEARS REALIZED
“Worst
Fears Realized
is one of his winners, starting fast and picking up speed . . . . The story is slick, taut, and well-told. It will delight Woods's many fans.”
Cleveland Plain Dealer
“Excellent . . . . A fun read for fans of undercover agents who get plenty of action under the covers . . . . There's plenty of excitement as Stone and Dino race around New York chasing a killer.”
USA Today
“With sharply drawn characters, a plot that's satisfying to the last dirty deed, and a story that flows with the effortless grace attained only by a master, this seductive novel will have readers twitching with suspense.”
Library Journal
“Woods . . . can write smart dialogue and knows how to pace.”
Publishers Weekly
ORCHID BEACH
“An action-packed puzzler.”
People
magazine Page-Turner of the Week “Barkerâtough and tight-lippedâis fun to watch.”
Entertainment Weekly
“Smooth and satisfying.”
Publishers Weekly
“An entertaining suspense story . . . Barker is tough when she needs to be, and clever and persistent in following her hunches.”
School Library Journal
SWIMMING TO CATALINA
“This enjoyable, star-dusted plunge into Hollywood's dark side agreeably melds '90s glitz with classic noir.”
People
magazine
“Outstanding . . . After nearly two dozen books, Woods can still surprise readers, not only with clever plots and characters, but also with his knowledge of everything from aeronautics to yachtsmanship . . . . A highly entertaining read that's chock-full of slam-bang action, fast cars, beautiful women, fine wine, and tart, tongue-in-cheek humor.”
Booklist
“A heck of a plot, intrigue, and cover-up between the first and last page.”
San Antonio Express News
“A fast-paced thriller . . . A tight storyline that never loses focus while barreling to an exciting finale . . . . Woods . . . keeps readers interested.”
Rocky Mountain News
UNDER THE LAKE
“Part detective story, part ghost story, part Southern gothic . . . It scared the living hell out of me!”
Stephen King
“Keeps you turning page after page.”
Washington Post
“Another gem . . . A book to read and get chills from on even the hottest day!”
San Diego Union
“A marvelous book . . . One of the best I've read in a long, long time.”
Andrew Greeley
“A blockbuster certain to keep you turning the pages long into the night.”
Macon-Telegraph and News
“Never a dull moment as the story surges toward its exciting climax.”
Publishers Weekly
DEEP LIE
“One of the most readable espionage novels since
The Hunt for Red October!”
Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“Vibrating with tension and nonstop action.”
Publishers Weekly
“An amazingly original thriller!”
Richard Condon, author of
Prizzi's Honor
“Terrific.”
Pat Conroy
“Hooks you fast with a first chapter so chilling it almost clanks cold chains on your spine . . . . A crackling good story.”
San Francisco Chronicle
“A great idea for an espionage thriller . . . I read the thing in one gulp.”
Houston Chronicle
“A whale of a story.”
New York Times
“High-stakes espionage . . . A solid winner.”
United Press International
DEAD IN THE WATER
“Fast-paced, filled with enough humor, sex and clever surprises all the way to the last page to make it thoroughly entertaining amusement.”
Publishers Weekly
“A man lost at sea, a small airplane crash, some impassioned sexual antics, and a tropical island . . . One of [his] best . . . Woods is a pro and this goes by like a summer breeze, with just enough heat to make you sweat.”
Detroit News
“Trying to make this neat tale last more than one sitting would be like staying up all night nursing a Godiva truffle.”
Kirkus Reviews
(*Starred Review*)
DIRT
“Blackmail, murder, suspense, loveâwhat else could you want in a book?”
Cosmopolitan
“This slickly entertaining suspenser displays Woods at the top of his game . . . . Woods delivers a marvelously sophisticated, thoroughly modern, old-fashioned read.”
Publishers Weekly
(*Starred Review*)
CHOKE
“Woods knows how to keep the narrative pace in overdrive . . . An entertaining page-turner.”
New York Times Book Review
“A real page-turner with surprises along the way.”
Boston Globe
“Woods is a no-nonsense, slam-bang storyteller.”
Chicago Tribune
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This book is for
Pitts Carr
who made it necessary
for me to learn to fly.
W
ENDELL
C
ATLEDGE SAT UP AND SQUINTED AT THE SMUDGE ON
the horizon. It should not have been a surprise, he thought, but it was. The boat slid smoothly along in the light wind, and even the slight movement made it hard to focus on the shape, but it wasn't a ship or an oil rig, and in the early morning light, it seemed to be pink. He pulled at his beard and ran a hand through his hair, which was a good six months overdue for cutting. Hell, it just might be, it just might be what he guessed it was.
He glanced at the sails, left the autopilot in charge, and climbed down the companionway ladder to the navigation station. As he slid into the chart table seat he allowed himself yet another look at his instrument array. It was all thereâfull Brookes & Gatehouse electronics, VHF and SSB radios, loran, Satnav, Weatherfax, a compact personal computer, and his own brainchild and namesake, the Cat One printer. That little machine had brought him all thisâthe yacht, the gear, and the time to sail. Cat had waked up one morning and realized that, after nearly thirty years in electronics, he was an overnight success. He gave the printer a fatherly pat and turned to his chart of the southern Caribbean.
He pushed a button on the loran and got a readout of longitude and latitude, then plotted the coordinates on his chart and confirmed his suspicion. They were south of their course from Antigua to Panama and the Canal, and the smudge on the horizon wasn't all that far off the rhumb line. A tiny thrill ran through him. This is what it's all about, he thought, that little thrill of discovery, pushing back the boundaries, punching through the envelope. He laughed aloud to himself, then he banged his flat palm onto the chart table.
“All hands on deck!” he shouted, grabbing the binoculars and starting for the companionway ladder. “All hands on deck!” he yelled again, pausing in the hatchway, “Come on, everybody, shake it!” There was a rustling noise from the after cabin and a loud thump from the forepeak. He raised the glasses and focused on the distant, pink smudge. It was. It was, indeed.
Katie was the first into the cockpit, rubbing her eyes. Jinx was a step or two behind, having paused long enough to find a life jacket. “What is it, Cat? What's wrong?” his wife demanded.
“What's going on, Daddy?” Jinx yelled, wide-eyed.
He was pleased that, in her excitement, Jinx had forgotten to call him Cat. When she addressed him as an equal, it reminded him she was growing upâhad grown up. “Right over there,” he said, pointing at the smudge.
Both women squinted at the horizon, shielding their eyes from the sun, which was now just above the horizon, big and hot.
“What is it?” Jinx demanded. “I can only see sort of a smudge.”
“That's South America, kid,” he replied. “Never let it be said your old man didn't show you South America.”
She turned to him, a look of astonished disgust spreading over her face. “You mean you got me out of the sack for
that?”
She turned to her mother and shrugged, spreading her hands.
“For Christ's sake, Cat,” his wife said, “I thought we were sinking.” Both women turned back toward the companionway.
“Hey, wait a minute, guys,” Cat said, thrusting the chart toward them, “that smudge is the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, a little mountain range that goes up to nearly nineteen thousand feet; that's the La Guajira Peninsula of Colombia out there; just south of it is the fabled Venezuelan port of Maracaibo. Doesn't that name send a chill right through you?”
“It sends a yawn right through me,” Jinx said, yawning.
“No, wait a minute, kitten,” Katie said to her daughter. “Look at it through the glasses. Your father didn't bring us all this way to miss this sort of thing.”
Jinx took the binoculars and looked through them at the smudge. “Gee,” she said, flatly, “you're right, it's a mountain. I've never seen a mountain before.” She handed the glasses back to her mother.
Katie raised the glasses to her eyes. “You're right, it's a mountain. I've never seen a mountain before, either. Wow.” She handed the binoculars back to Cat. “Can we go back to bed now?”
“Aw, listen, I know it's early, but you've got to get into the spirit. How would you like to have lunch in Colombia? How about that for a little unscheduled adventure?”