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By David Poyer

"Tiller Galloway is an awesome hero . . . A fast moving, convincing mystery set in an strange locale." --Baltimore sunlight "Plot twists and turns that chart a tough path throughout the deep waters of human want and greed." --Ocala Star-Banner “Local surroundings and an outstanding wisdom of treacherous currents maintain issues on course.” --The London occasions On a moonless evening in 1945, a destroyer sinks a U-Boat fifty miles off Hatteras Island, the Graveyard of the Atlantic. Over a half-century later, the mummified corpses of 3 crewmen, wrapped in a decaying rubber raft, come to mild in the course of excavation for a brand new purchasing improvement. Their reappearance unleashes neo-Nazis, drug smugglers, and a shadowy "historian" with an ominous plan. while Hatteras local, salvage diver, and ex-con Lyle "Tiller" Galloway III begins digging into the invention, he is pressured by means of an island relations to tackle a perilous silent accomplice. jointly, he and Shadrach Aydlett will observe what truly occurred within the Carolina sand hills goodbye in the past, and what everyone's particularly after . . . a whole lot long-lost Nazi gold. and eventually, he’ll conflict a ruthless killer many fathoms underneath the stormy sea off Cape Hatteras. HATTERAS BLUE's infrequent unique hardcover sells for over 100 money. This re-creation has been revised through the writer to make it much more interesting and genuine.

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This can be all sand," acknowledged Caffey, waving his hand on the low dunes they have been passing. "Just a ribbon of sand, couple thousand ft across—and the Atlantic at the different facet. not anyone is aware the way it retains resisting the ocean. This inlet opened one evening in a hurricane, 100 years in the past, and now it really is ultimate up. Corps of Engineers been working dredges, however the sand remains forward. it truly is riding the trawlers into bankruptcy. " The bridge steadily darkened the sky, the whir of tires coming far away throughout the concrete, after which fell at the back of. The channel twisted. Shoals thrust out from the shore, and alongside their margins tiny figures wielded poles: surf fishermen. A patch of uneven, disturbed water seemed among them and the ocean. Galloway eyed it and throttled again. A second later they observed his arms demanding at the wheel as a whisper got here from underneath the hull. He held path. The boat slowed, appeared to drop her head for a second, then raised it and driven ahead back. They have been over. "There she is," acknowledged Hirsch. The trawler lay the place the channel opened to the ocean. merely mast and booms confirmed above the chop, trailing cables within the tidal present. "A actual threat to navigation," Caffey acknowledged. "Tiller, how'd she get there? i assumed she'd be up on one of many shoal patches. " "She was," stated Galloway, unbending adequate to show his head. "Something grabbed her hull whilst the safeguard towed her off. Lot of previous wrecks during this sand. acquired this a long way, then went down. Okay—let's get transparent to seaward. i will take the anchor. " He throttled again and went ahead. Jack took the wheel, protecting the boat's head into three-foot swells that got here in progressively from the open sea. The sunlight used to be intensely scorching. "Ready to drop," Galloway known as again. Caffey gunned the engines a bit, gazing the ruin. "Leave her room to swing. " "Okay, Tiller. " He aimed the bow a bit farther to seaward. The booms poked up like demise bushes 100 yards astern, the breaking surf a white line past. "How's this? " "Good. again her. " The engines hesitated, then rumbled back; Victory started to glide backward. A second later chain rattled, through a dash. Caffey slammed the shift a number of occasions sooner than it went into impartial. Galloway stood ready, looking at the road come taut, then made a cutting movement. The diesels died. "Tiller," acknowledged Bernie, within the surprising silence. "Is it my mind's eye, or are your engines getting louder? " "Mufflers are shot," stated Galloway, pulling himself up into the tuna tower. A second later a red-and-white diving flag was once flapping within the sea breeze. "Bern, you coming in? appears like solid visibility this present day. " "I imagine 111 stick with the boat this time, Jack. " the 3 males all started dressing out. Keyes stripped off a starched white blouse, revealing a faded long-muscled torso with no hint of fats. Over shorts and T-shirts they pulled heavy, buoyant rubber. The matches have been sizzling and tight-fitting, making it not easy to bend a leg or elevate an arm, and within the sunlight a wearer quickly chanced on himself actually bathed in sweat. The blond guy stated without warning, "Are those worthy?

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