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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

BOOK ONE - “come, josephine in my flying machine”

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - “Hoopla!”

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

BOOK TWO - “balance yourself like a bird on a beam”

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

BOOK THREE - “up, up, a little bit higher”

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

BOOK FOUR - “in the air she goes! there she goes!”

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

EPILOGUE

DIRK PITT® ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

Crescent Dawn (with Dirk Cussler)

Arctic Drift

Dragon (with Dirk Cussler)

Treasure of Khan (with Dirk Cussler)

Black Wind

Cyclops (with Dirk Cussler)

Trojan Odyssey

Deep Six

Valhalla Rising

Pacific Vortex!

Atlantis Found

Night Probe!

Flood Tide

Vixen 03

Shock Wave

Raise the Titanic!

Inca Gold

Iceberg

Sahara

The Mediterranean Caper

FARGO ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

(with Grant Blackwood)

The Kingdom

Lost Empire

Spartan Gold

ISAAC BELL NOVELS BY CLIVE CUSSLER

The Spy (with Justin Scott)

The Wrecker (with Justin Scott)

The Chase

KURT AUSTIN ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

(with Paul Kemprecos)

Medusa

White Death

The Navigator

Fire Ice

Polar Shift

Blue Gold

Lost City

Serpent

OREGON FILES ADVENTURES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

(with Jack Du Brul )

The Jungle

The Silent Sea

Corsair

Plague Ship

Skeleton Coast

Dark Watch

(with Craig Dirgo)

Golden Buddha

Sacred Stone

NONFICTION BY CLIVE CUSSLER AND CRAIG DIRGO

The Sea Hunters

The Sea Hunters II

Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

Publishers Since 1838

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014,

USA • Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin

Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland,

25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) •

Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,

Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) • Penguin Books India

Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi–110 017, India •

Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty)

Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Copyright © 2011 by Sandecker, RLLLP

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or

distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do

not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation

of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Published simultaneously in Canada

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Cussler, Clive.

The race / Clive Cussler and Justin Scott.

p. cm.

ISBN : 978-1-101-54773-1

1. Bell, Isaac (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Private investigators—Fiction.

I. Scott, Justin. II. Title.

PS3553.U75R

813’.54—dc22

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

While the authors have made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the authors assume any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

http://us.penguingroup.com

PROLOGUE

“the moon is on fire”

Chicago

1899

A TALL DRUNK DANCED ALONE IN THE GUTTER, singing a Stephen Foster song loved by the Anti-Saloon League. The melody was mournful, reminiscent of Scottish pipes, the tempo a slow waltz. His voice, a warm baritone, rang with heartfelt regret for promises broken.

“Oh! comrades, fill no glass for me

“To drown my soul in liquid flame . . .”

He had a golden head of hair, and a fine, strong profile. His extreme youth—he could not have been more than twenty—made his condition even sadder. His clothes looked slept in, matted with straw, and short in the arms and legs, like handouts from a church basement or lifted from a clothesline. His linen collar was askew, his shirt was missing a cuff, and he had no hat despite the cold. Of gentleman’s treasures to sell for drink, made-to-order calfskin boots were all he had left.

He bumped into a lamppost and lost the thread of the lyric. Still humming the poignant tune, still trying to waltz, he dodged a potter’s field morgue wagon pulling up at the curb. The driver tied his horses and bounded through the swinging doors of the nearest of the many saloons spilling yellow light on the cobblestones.

The drunken youth reeled against the somber black wagon and held on tight.

He studied the saloon. Was it one where he would be welcomed? Or had he already been thrown out? He patted empty pockets. He shrugged sadly. His eyes roved the storefronts: five-cent lodging houses, brothels, pawnbrokers. He considered his boots. Then he lifted his gaze to the newspaper dealer’s depot on the corner, where press wagons were delivering Chicago’s early editions.

Could he beg a few pennies’ work unloading the bundled newspapers? He squared his shoulders and commenced a slow waltz toward the depot.

“When I was young I felt the tide

“Of aspiration undefiled.

“But manhood’s years have wronged the pride

“My parents centered in their child.”

The newsboys lining up to buy their papers were street-toughened twelve-year-olds. They made fun of the drunk as he approached until one of them locked gazes with his strangely soft violet-blue eyes. “Leave him alone!” he told his friends, and the tall young man whispered, “Thanks, shonny. Whuss yer name?”

“Wally Laughlin.”

“You’ve a kind soul, Wally Laughlin. Don’t end up like me.”

“I TOLD YOU TO GET RID OF THE DRUNK,” said

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