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Unstoppable husband and wife team Sam and Remi Fargo face off against an obsessive millionaire hunting for a lost treasure in this thriller in the #1 New York Times -bestselling series. When husband and wife treasure hunters Sam and Remi Fargo try something new, a relaxing vacation, a detour to visit a rare bookstore leads to the discovery of a dead body. All signs point to a book in the store that may contain a secret map, an actual, ink-on-paper guide to a historic fortune. The Fargos take up the challenge and find themselves flying from California to Arizona, from Jamaica to England. Racing against a vicious corporate raider with an unhealthy obsession for this particular treasure, Sam and Remi are slowed by a new betrayal at every turn. It can only mean one thing: someone on their team cannot be trusted. Buzzing with the chemistry and wit of Sam and Remi Fargo, Pirate reinvents the classic treasure hunt as only a Clive Cussler adventure can.
**Praise for PIRATE and the Fargo Series
*
“The best book to date featuring the married treasure hunters. Readers will be thrilled to discover that *Pirate delivers the action and thrills....The main characters have never been so engaging and fun.”—Associated Press*
*
“This adventure series stands as one of the crown jewels in the Cussler empire.”—Publishers Weekly
 
“Sam and Remi are fearless, honest, curious, and resourceful in all situations. Fasten your seat belt for this wonderful read!”—Library Journal
 
“Scenes, settings, and action are graphic-novel worthy, from sweat-stained jungle treks to bad-guy confrontations, all laced with historical factoids and a soupcon of fantasy for across-the-board appeal. Cussler and Company continue the winning formula, and this jungle episode will satisfy the cravings of every fan.”—Kirkus Reviews
Auteur
Clive Cussler and Robin Burcell
Échantillon de lecture
*One
San Francisco, California
Present day
Sam and Remi Fargo weaved their way around the tourists crowding the sidewalk. Once they were through the green pagoda-style gateway of Chinatown, the throng much thinner, Remi checked the map on her cell phone. “I have a feeling we took a wrong turn somewhere.”
“To that restaurant,” Sam replied, removing his revered panama hat. “A tourist trap, if I ever saw one.”
She glanced at her husband, watching as he ran his fingers through his sun-streaked brown hair. He stood over a head taller than Remi, with broad shoulders and an athletic build. “I didn’t hear you complaining when they brought out the moo shu pork.”
“Where did we go wrong?”
“Ordering the Mongolian beef. Definitely a mistake.”
“On the map, Remi.”
She zoomed in, reading the streets. “Perhaps the shortcut through Chinatown wasn’t so short.”
“Maybe if you’d at least tell me where we’re going, I could help?”
“It’s the only part of this trip,” Remi said, “that’s my surprise for you. You haven’t even shared what you have planned.”
“For a reason.” Sam put on his hat, and Remi linked her arm through his while they walked. He’d arranged this trip because their last adventure to the Solomon Islands had not been the hoped-for quiet vacation they’d planned. “I promise you nothing but rest, relaxation, and a week of no one trying to kill us.”
“A whole week of downtime,” she said, sidling closer to him as a cloud drifted over the sun, taking with it all the warmth of the early-September afternoon. “Have we had anything like that in a while?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“There it is,” she said, spying the bookstore. The flaking gold-leafed lettering in the window read Pickering’s Used & Rare Books. “Just to show how very much I appreciate you traipsing all this way with me, I won’t make you come in.” Remi was be-ing facetious. Sam’s late father, a NASA engineer, had collected rare books, and Sam, also an engineer, had inherited that same passion.
He eyed the bookstore, then his wife. “What sort of husband would I be if something happened to you in there?”
“Dangerous things, books.”
“Look what they did to your brain.”
The pair crossed the street to the bookstore. A Siamese cat, resting on a stack of volumes in the window, looked up in disdain when a bell tinkled as Sam opened the door for Remi. The place smelled of musk and old paper, and Remi scanned the shelves, at first seeing nothing but used hardcovers and current paperbacks. She hid her disappointment from Sam, hoping they hadn’t made the trip for nothing.
A gray-haired man, wearing gold spectacles, wandered in from the back, wiping his hands on a dusty cloth. He saw them and smiled. “May I help you find something?”
Sam’s phone rang. He took it from his pocket, telling Remi, “I’ll take it outside.”
“Perfect, since this was meant to be a surprise.”
He stepped out, and Remi waited until the door closed firmly behind him before turning to the proprietor. “Mr. Pickering?”
He nodded.
“I was told you had a copy of The History of Pyrates and Privateers.”
His smile faltered for the barest of instances. “Of course. Right over here.”
Pickering led her to a shelf where several identical volumes of Pyrates and Privateers sat. And while they were clearly reproductions, their faux gold-tooled leather binding gave them the appearance of something that might be found in a library centuries before.
He slid a copy from the shelf, used his cloth to wipe the dust from the top of it, then handed it to her. “How did you know we carried this particular volume?”
She decided to keep it vague—not wanting there to be any hurt feelings now that she knew the book was merely a reproduction. “A woman I work with knew of my husband’s interest in lost artifacts and rare books.” She opened the cover, admiring the detail that gave it an antiqued appearance. “It’s a beautiful copy . . . Just not what I was hoping for.”
He pushed his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose. “It’s popular with interior designers. Less emphasis on lost artifacts and more on decorating a coffee table. I do, on occasion, run across old volumes of historical significance. Perhaps your friend meant the Charles Johnson volumes on A General History of Pyrates? That, I do have.”
“As do we. I was hoping for Pyrates and Privateers to round out our collection. My friend, no doubt, confused the two titles.”
“Who did you say referred you here?”
“Bree Marshall.”
“Oh. Well, that’s—” A whoosh of air and the tinkling of the bell seemed to startle him, and he and Remi turned toward the door at the same time. Remi, expecting Sam, saw a much shorter, broad-shouldered man silhouetted against the light from the shop’s window.
The bookseller eyed the man, then smiled at Remi. “Let me get the dust off of it and wrap it for you.” And before she could object, tell him she really had no interest in buying a reproduction, he swept the book from her hands. “I’ll be right back.”
Her friend Bree had clearly misunderstood which book her uncle had in his shop. No matter. It was a beautiful copy and would look nice in Sam’s office. He’d certainly appreciate the sentiment, she decided as she turned…