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Delhi is one of the oldest cities in India. It has been invaded, destroyed and rebuilt several times.
For Zeb Carter and his team in Delhi, getting destroyed is acceptable. Survival is optional. Failure isn't.
Zeb and his team are training with India's RAW, the country's secretive intelligence agency, when masked shooters open up on them and escape.
The minute-long deadly burst kills several RAW agents many of whom died to save the Americans.
No terrorist group claims the killing. The shooters make no demands.
A bomb rips into a crowded street days later, close to RAW's office.
The city goes into lockdown. The media speculates about extremist activity.
Zeb works out the killings aren't random. The terrorists are targeting RAW.
But why? And by whom?
The Indian intelligence agency is a close ally and when it comes to friends, Zeb and his team have one rule.
There are no rules.
'An OMG, running-out-of-superlatives, call-in-sick, read-all-night, one-click, auto-buy, series!'
'Zeb Carter in Delhi! That's an explosive combination. Read! You won't regret it.'
Zeb was the last.
He jogged behind his crew who were with the RAW team.
RAW. Research and Analysis Wing. India's secretive foreign intelligence and counter-terrorism division.
He and his team were in the country on a joint training exercise with their Indian peers.
Vikram Kohli and Meera Ranganathan, their close friends, leading the RAW group at the front.
Zeb was in no hurry to join them even though Beth turned back and beckoned at him several times.
He was happy to pound the pavement, bringing up the rear.
New Delhi in January.
The country had just finished celebrating its Republic Day - when it became a constitutional monarchy, breaking all ties to its colonial conquerors.
Streamers on the concrete pavement. Posters and decorations still handing off cables strung between lamp posts.
They were jogging through the historic Red Fort complex, through the lush park surrounding the old building.
Vikram had taken permission for them to train inside the grounds. No other traffic. Jus them in the chilly, early January, morning air of Delhi.
A light fog which wasn't thick enough to block the sun's rays.
A faint smell of cooking wafting on the breeze.
Zeb grinned as he recalled Bwana's expression when Vikram's invitation had landed.
His friend loved visiting the country for its warmth , the sights, sounds and colors ... but also for the food.
He was still smiling when the SUV came up from behind, and sped past him.
Its windows rolled down.
Rifle barrels stuck out.
They opened fire on his and the RAW teams.
Genre: Thriller
For Zeb Carter and his team in Delhi, getting destroyed is acceptable. Survival is optional. Failure isn't.
Zeb and his team are training with India's RAW, the country's secretive intelligence agency, when masked shooters open up on them and escape.
The minute-long deadly burst kills several RAW agents many of whom died to save the Americans.
No terrorist group claims the killing. The shooters make no demands.
A bomb rips into a crowded street days later, close to RAW's office.
The city goes into lockdown. The media speculates about extremist activity.
Zeb works out the killings aren't random. The terrorists are targeting RAW.
But why? And by whom?
The Indian intelligence agency is a close ally and when it comes to friends, Zeb and his team have one rule.
There are no rules.
'An OMG, running-out-of-superlatives, call-in-sick, read-all-night, one-click, auto-buy, series!'
'Zeb Carter in Delhi! That's an explosive combination. Read! You won't regret it.'
Zeb was the last.
He jogged behind his crew who were with the RAW team.
RAW. Research and Analysis Wing. India's secretive foreign intelligence and counter-terrorism division.
He and his team were in the country on a joint training exercise with their Indian peers.
Vikram Kohli and Meera Ranganathan, their close friends, leading the RAW group at the front.
Zeb was in no hurry to join them even though Beth turned back and beckoned at him several times.
He was happy to pound the pavement, bringing up the rear.
New Delhi in January.
The country had just finished celebrating its Republic Day - when it became a constitutional monarchy, breaking all ties to its colonial conquerors.
Streamers on the concrete pavement. Posters and decorations still handing off cables strung between lamp posts.
They were jogging through the historic Red Fort complex, through the lush park surrounding the old building.
Vikram had taken permission for them to train inside the grounds. No other traffic. Jus them in the chilly, early January, morning air of Delhi.
A light fog which wasn't thick enough to block the sun's rays.
A faint smell of cooking wafting on the breeze.
Zeb grinned as he recalled Bwana's expression when Vikram's invitation had landed.
His friend loved visiting the country for its warmth , the sights, sounds and colors ... but also for the food.
He was still smiling when the SUV came up from behind, and sped past him.
Its windows rolled down.
Rifle barrels stuck out.
They opened fire on his and the RAW teams.
Genre: Thriller
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