Run Before the Wind [042-4. 8]
By: Stuart Woods
Synopsis:
Will Lee ran from a life of Southern wealth and privilege to spend a peaceful summer on the coast of Ireland. But there is no peace in this beautiful, troubled land. Restless and dissatisfied, Will dreams of shipbuilding and sailing on crystal-blue waters. But an explosion of senseless violence is dragging the young American drifter into a lethal game of terror and revenge. For the fires of hatred rage unchecked in this place of lush, rolling hills and deadly secrets. Now Will Lee must run for his life from a bloody past that is not his own-and he will find no sanctuary on the rolling waves of the Irish sea.
Other Avon Books by Stuart Woods
chiefs
deep lie
grass roots
under THE lake
white cargo
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StUART
WOODS
RUN BEFORE
THE WIND
AVON BOOKS^ NEW YORK
AVON BOOKS, INC.
1350 Avenue of the Americas New York, New York 10019
Copyright 1983 by Stuart Woods Published by arrangement with W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 8214266
ISBN: 0-380-70507-9
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the
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First Avon Books Printing: June 1988
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If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book. ”
This book is for my friend and editor, Eric Swenson, who seems always to have just the right proportions of faith and skepticism. (Well, nearly always. )
PROLOGUE
THE THIRD OFFICER was the first to see the sail. He had been looking for it.
He had seen mention of the race in Notices to Mariners, and he had been hearing reports of its progress on the BBC World Service.
An Englishman—what was his name?—had been reported leading two days before. The third officer, whose name was Martindale and who, himself, was English, had hoped he might catch sight of some of the competitors, and now he had a moment of excitement in an otherwise uneventful crossing. He walked to the ship’s wheel, which was making small movements under the command of the autopilot, sighted across the main compass, and took a bearing on the sail, which was no more than a dot of white on the horizon.
He noted the time and the bearing in the ship’s log. Six minutes later, with the dot now plainly recognizable as a boat, he took a second bearing. It was unchanged. The 400,000-ton supertanker, Byzantium, was on a collision course with an unknown yacht in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean.