The Eye of the Tiger
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The deep. The deadly. The damned...
For a thousand years, an unimaginable treasure has rested on the bottom of the Indian Ocean, hidden by swift blue currents, guarded by deadly coral reefs, and even deadlier school of man-eating great white sharks. Harry Fletcher, a former soldier turned fisherman, is now being pulled into a murderous mystery by men willing to kill and a beautiful woman willing to lie for what rests far beneath the sea. Now, Harry has no choice but to enter full bore into an international battle to raise an extraordinary object from the deep. Because possessing this treasure isn't just about getting rich--it's about staying alive... in Wilbur Smith's The Eye of the Tiger.
butts and scraped sand over them and when we went down the slope we both carried palm-frond brooms to sweep out all signs of activity. The first part of my planning was complete, and we returned to where the golden tiger and the rest of the gelignite was cached. We reburied the tiger and then I prepared a full case of gelignite. It was a massive overdose of explosive, sufficient for a tenfold over-kill – but I have never been a man to stint myself when I have the means to indulge. I would not
can go after his murderers.’ ‘I have no idea at all what it could be.’ She looked up at me. The blue of her eyes was lighter than it had been last night, it was the colour of a good sapphire. ‘What clues have you?’ ‘The ship’s bell. The design upon it.’ ‘What does it signify?’ ‘I don’t know, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out.’ I could no longer resist the temptation. I placed my hand over hers. It felt as firm and strong as it looked and her flesh was warm. ‘But first I should like to
or I can go back to Gunfire Reef and try to find out what the hell was in Colonel Goodchild’s five cases.‘ ‘You’ll need equipment.’ ‘It might not be as elaborate as Manny Resnick’s will be, but I could get enough together.’ ‘How are you for money, or is that a rude question?’ ‘The answer is the same. I could get enough together.’ ‘Blue water and white sand,’ she murmured dreamily. ‘ – and the palm fronds clattering in the trade winds.’ ‘Stop it, Harry.’ ‘Fat crayfish grilling on the
blue and white, with pleasing lines. I judged her fast and sea-kindly, probably with sufficient range to take her anywhere in the world. A rich man’s toy. There were figures on her bridge, lights burning in most of her portholes, and she seemed ready for sea. They crowded me as we crossed the narrow space to the gangplank. The Rover backed and turned and drove away as we climbed to the Mandrake’s deck. The saloon was too tastefully fitted out for Manny Resnick’s style, it had either been done
company. Chubby and I dived together, going down fast and pausing above the swaying bamboo tops only long enough to drop the first marker buoy. I had decided it was necessary to search the pool bottom systematically. I was marking off the whole area into squares, anchoring inflatable buoys above the marine forest on thin nylon line. We worked for an hour and found nothing that was obviously wreckage, although there were masses of coral covered with marine growth that would bear closer