Set in Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the United States, The Malacca Conspiracy is a bone-chilling tale of terrorism on the high seas, of political assassination and nuclear brinkmanship. And for Zack and Diane—your favorite JAG characters from Don Brown’s popular Navy Justice Series—a story of hope for a longstanding romance that is now or never. When a dastardly plot is hatched in the Malaysian seaport of Malacca to attack civilian oil tankers at sea, to drive up the price of crude oil futures, and to assassinate the Indonesian president and use fat windfall profits to finance a nuclear attack against American cities, Navy JAG officers Zack Brewer and Diane Cocernian reunite in a sizzling race against the clock to foil the conspiracy before disaster strikes. But as President Mack Williams sends ships of the U.S. Seventh Fleet towards the Malacca Straights to reassert control over the sea lanes, will Navy JAG officers Zack Brewer and Diane Colcernian survive this dangerous and final high-stakes drama of life and death? You won’t be able to put this thriller down until you find out.
|Product dimensions:||5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 1.10(d)|
|Age Range:||18 Years|
About the Author
Don Brown is the author of Thunder in the Morning Calm, The Malacca Conspiracy, The Navy Justice Series, and The Black Sea Affair, a submarine thriller that predicted the 2008 shooting war between Russia and Georgia. Don served five years in the U.S. Navy as an officer in the Judge Advocate General's (JAG) Corps, which gave him an exceptional vantage point into both the Navy and the inner workings "inside-the-beltway" as an action officer assigned to the Pentagon. He left active duty in 1992 to pursue private practice, but remained on inactive status through 1999, rising to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. He and his family live in North Carolina, where he pursues his passion for penning novels about the Navy. www.donbrownbooks.com Facebook: Don-Brown
Read an Excerpt
The Malacca Conspiracy
By Don Brown
ZondervanCopyright © 2010 Don Brown
All right reserved.
Chapter OneOne year later New York Mercantile Exchange
The headquarters of the mammoth New York Mercantile Exchange, located in New York's World Financial Center and fronting the Hudson River, was sixteen stories high and more than five hundred thousand square feet.
From his office on the eighth floor, in the dark hours of the morning, Robert Molster enjoyed sipping cappuccino and watching the lights on the river and the sparkling shoreline across the way in New Jersey. The clear, cold night, even more biting because of the six-inch snowfall that had blanketed the city earlier in the day, leaving mounds of snow piled up along the concrete barricades down by the waterfront, seemed to magnify the lights shining on the other side of the river. A few boats, barely visible under blinking red-and-green navigation lights, glided back and forth along the dark river. Molster shook his head, still amazed that he sat here, in this job, at this very moment.
Two years ago, Molster was finishing his MBA at the University of Virginia's Darden School of Business. He had hoped to land a job with a midsize brokerage firm in downtown Richmond. Any regional firm would do, he had thought at the time, as long as he stayed in Virginia.
He'd already decided that he had no interest in becoming either a broker or a trader. But the thought of being a stock analyst had intrigued him since his days as a junior in college, when a business professor had introduced him to The Wall Street Journal. Becoming a stock analyst would have been prestigious and would have guaranteed excellent pay. Plus, in Richmond he could've bought a decent-sized home, perhaps in the prestigious West End or fashionable Shockoe slip. He had thought he would meet a nice, well-bred, well-mannered young Southern belle from Sweet Briar College, or the University of Mary Washington. Either would do. Then he would raise a family in a town with lots of history, without the hustle and bustle of big-city life.
All that changed one day just before graduation, when a young woman, a recruiter from the New York Mercantile Exchange, appeared on the Charlottesville campus.
"Ever think about being a commodities analyst?" she questioned him.
Commodities had never crossed his mind.
"You'd work the night shift, watch commodities trading on the overseas markets, and feed data to the media, the wire services, and then to floor traders who start work at 9:00 A.M. But-and this is where you'll make contacts that will help you write your own ticket-you'll give a daily briefing to the chairman of the Mercantile Exchange or one of his assistants about overnight trading activities. You'll learn everything there is to know about oil. You can become an analyst for one of the private commodities firms and make so much money you can retire before you're forty."
She reviewed his résumé, and raised a huge selling point.
"I see that you're an officer in the navy reserve. If you're worried about your navy obligations, don't be. Our chairman, Mr. Goldstein, is ex-navy. You'll have no problems doing reserve duty on the weekends or in the summer."
Some high-paying employers were against his naval reserve obligations, which required him to be in Washington one weekend a month and who-knows-where in the world for at least two weeks each summer.
"Lieutenant Robert Molster. What does this J-2 mean?"
"That's the intelligence section of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," he responded. "It's in the Pentagon. I go one weekend a month and help them sort through boring data." He figured that would blow over her head.
"The Pentagon"-a look of awe crossed her face-"Impressive, Lieutenant Molster." She smiled. "Come to Manhattan for an interview. All expenses paid. Overnight at the Waldorf-Astoria."
Three weeks later, he got the job. And he got an added bonus.
The young lady who interviewed him, the intriguing Wellesley graduate named Jane Morgan ... well ... she had accepted his invitation to dinner upon his arrival in New York. Two years later, they were still dating.
A Virginia gentleman and a Connecticut Yankee.
So much for settling down in Richmond with a debutante and a membership in the Country Club of Virginia.
At the Exchange, "Janie," as he later learned that she was called, held the same job that he did. Except Janie worked the day shift. He worked nights. Then there was his time away in the reserves. Sometimes that made dating a challenge.
Somehow, they managed.
Overall, life was good. Plus, he was still able to keep his toes in the waters of the US Navy.
The cappuccino was gone now. His five-minute break was over.
Trading in light, sweet crude oil futures had been halted at 1:00 a.m. due to a limit move upwards of ten dollars in the market. That would slow things down for about five minutes before trading resumed. He had to get back to his screen. Probably, he'd see a big sell-off of profit taking after the move, with prices dropping back down. He'd need to document the data for his morning briefing.
Back to work. He tossed the paper cup in the wastebasket and walked across the hallway to his monitor.
He sat down and a cacophonous buzz rang from his computer speakers. What now?
Limit Alert ... Limit Alert ... Trading in January Light, Sweet Crude Calls halted due to limit move of $10.00. Trading to resume at 130 A.M., EST, 630 A.M., GMT.
A second trading halt in less than fifteen minutes? He'd never seen this before. Somebody would make billions in short order.
What was going on out there?
Should he call the chairman? Would waking the chairman make him look like an overanxious greenhorn?
He flipped out his cell phone and hit "1" on the speed dial.
"Good morning," Janie Morgan's velvety, if sleepy, voice said.
"Sorry to call so early. Something's up."
"Mmm." The sound of sheets fluffing. "What?"
"Crude oil. Two limit moves in an hour. Light, sweet crude. Just got a second trade halt in the last fifteen minutes."
A second passed. "Wow." Janie sounded wide awake now. "Two in fifteen minutes? I've never heard of that."
"No kidding," he said.
"What's going on?"
"Dunno. Think I should call Chairman Goldstein?"
"Hmm. I'm not sure," she said. "Let me think."
"I don't want to look panicky, but still ..."
"Hmm. Know what?"
"I'd call. Better safe than sorry."
That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it confirmed his gut instinct. "I thought you'd say that. I'll call him right now. If he gets hacked off that I ran him out of bed, so be it."
"He won't," she said. "If he does, blame me."
"No chance," he said.
"Call me later. Love you."
Robert hung up, then picked up the phone again. He punched the speed dial ringing directly to the residence of the chairman of the Merchantile Exchange. After two rings, a groggy voice answered.
"Mister Chairman ... Robert Molster at the sweet light crude desk ... Sorry if I woke you ... Yes, sir ... I think we may have something strange going in the futures markets."
USS Reuben James The Strait of Malacca
Two hours earlier
The sun beat down on the slate-gray steel, heating the deck near the bow of the guided missile frigate. From his station at the forward lookout post, Boatswain's Mate, First Class Elliot Cisco swiped perspiration from his forehead, then positioned his binoculars off the port side of the ship.
Out to the left, about a thousand yards from the Reuben James, the tanker SeaRiver Baytown, her belly full of Persian Gulf crude oil, churned low through the blue waters of the Malaccan Straits.
About a thousand yards beyond the Baytown, but not visible from this vantage point, the USS Kauffman, another Oliver Hazard Perryclass guided missile frigate, guarded the other side of the tanker.
If anything went wrong, Cisco hoped it would come from the other side - and that the Kauffman would have to deal with it. Swinging his binoculars out in front of the bow, he knew that wasn't likely.
USS Kauffman was guarding the waters between the tanker and Malaysia.
USS Reuben James, on the other hand, was guarding the waters between the tanker and the Indonesian island of Sumatra.
Naval Intelligence had warned that radical threats to maritime shipping, and thus the world's economy, would likely be launched from the heavily populated Indonesian islands of Sumatra and Java.
Clear seas appeared in the binoculars out in front of the ship. Cisco took in the morning breeze that was whipping in from the southwest. Swiping his right hand across his forehead, he brought the high-powered glasses back to his eyes and swept the horizon to the right, out toward Sumatra. Slowly, he scanned in a clockwise turn, stopping his sweep at the three o'clock position.
Nothing but blue waters and a mountainous shoreline.
Moving his view to the left again, back toward the bow, a flash swept across the seascape.
He stopped the binoculars and angled back to the right. Nothing. Were his eyes deceiving him? That could happen at sea.
What was it? Reflection off glass? The engine of a boat? A whale? Where was it?
Whatever it was, it was too low in the water for the ship's radar to detect.
He readjusted the powerful binoculars.
Nothing but blue water.
The inbound flash bounced off the water, perhaps a mile out to the starboard.
Cisco held the binoculars in place and adjusted the focus ring, bringing the image into focus. The sun was reflecting against the windshield of a speedboat!
He picked up the watch telephone.
"Chief, small craft at three o'clock! Inbound at high speed! One mile and closing, sir!"
Rasa Sentosa Resort Sentosa Island, Singapore
Sweet strains of violin music blended magically with the single cello, filling the air with a classical melody that blanketed the mumbling voices nearby. Swooshing water streams jetted from a half-dozen indoor fountains, muffling the clicks of bellmen's leather shoes traipsing across the expansive marble floors.
Behind the reservations desk in the main lobby, Ashlyn Claire hardly noticed the typical midday sounds of the luxurious Rasa Sentosa, Singapore's only beachfront resort.
At the moment, her agenda was single-minded - to coordinate with housekeeping to ensure that more than fifty rooms were cleared out in time for check-in, which was still two-and-a-half hours away. At a world-class resort like the Rasa Sentosa, nothing could prove more disastrous to the career of an aspiring young hotel management intern than to send a well-paying guest to a room that had not been properly prepared.
A small smudge on an obscure portion of a mirror or a window.
An overlooked thumbprint on a faucet in the sink.
A slight wrinkle on a comforter.
Ashlyn checked the screen again. Still nothing open. Not yet anyway. Except for the block of rooms reserved for the British prime minister's advance team.
Therein lay the problem.
British Prime Minister John Suddath was in Singapore for a controversial summit with the president of Singapore over the future of Changi Naval Base. The Brits and the Americans were pressing Singapore to expand the base to accommodate more ships for the Royal and US Navies to patrol the Strait of Malacca. The Americans would pay for the upgrades. That's what Singaporean television was reporting, anyway.
But Malaysia, Indonesia, and China had protested the deal.
Protests erupted all over the region, and someone leaked that Suddath's advance team was staying at the Rasa Sentosa. Then two days ago, rumors flew that Suddath himself was staying at the hotel.
That rumor ignited the picketers. Yesterday, more than two hundred paraded in front of the hotel, clogging the main entrance and blocking guest registrations.
Last night, the British and Singaporean governments issued joint communiqués that the PM would be staying at Istana Merdeka, the Singaporean presidential palace, during his stay in the city.
That thinned out the picketers. But even this morning, about twenty of them still strutted in an oblong circle, bobbing their signs deriding the US and the UK.
Ashlyn checked her watch. Twelve-thirty. Nothing to do but wait.
A whiff of alluring cologne took her focus off the terminal. A smiling, olive-skinned gentleman stood behind the reservations desk.
"May I help you, sir?" she asked.
"You don't look Singaporean." The gentleman's eyes danced at her. "Australian? South African?"
His friendly expression and sparkling black eyes exuded an immediate, spellbinding charm.
Was he Indian? Pakistani? Middle Eastern? He sported an amazing British accent, wherever he was from. And the white suit enhanced his dark, handsome features.
"I'm British," she said, with pride in her voice.
"That's a brave admission considering those lunatics out there." He nodded toward the hotel entrance, with a dubious half-grin.
"Yes, well ..." She glanced outside at the picketers, then back at the man. "Could I help you with something, sir?"
"I'm Ahmed." He cleared his voice. "Edward Ahmed. Doctor Edward Ahmed. I'm here for check-in."
"Let's see if I can find you, Dr. Ahmed." Ashlyn clicked the Enter key. "Got it." She looked at him. "Do you have a passport that we could copy?"
"Certainly." He handed her his Yemeni passport. The name and photograph matched.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but we don't have any rooms yet. Check-in is at three. I can call you if something opens earlier."
"Fine," he said. "I could take a stroll on the beach. Where may I leave my luggage?"
"The bellman will store your bags here in the lobby area until your room is ready."
"Fabulous." The man's black eyes sparkled. "I look forward to seeing you again, Miss ... I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."
"Claire. Ashlyn Claire."
"Yes, Miss Claire, and may God save the Queen." The man turned and walked off with a smile on his face.
Or was it a sneer?
No matter, Ashlyn had work to do. The first members of the prime minister's advance team were due any minute.
USS Reuben James The Strait of Malacca
Skipper, forward lookout reports inbound craft! Approaching at high speed at three o'clock! Range one mile!"
"Where?" The skipper of the Reuben James moved to the starboard side of the bridge. Junior officers and enlisted crew members on the bridge were pointing their fingers over the water.
"There! I see it!" the executive officer said.
The captain saw it through his binoculars. The boat crashed through the waves, racing toward his ship, or more likely, toward the tanker he was guarding.
"Issue a no-approach warning, followed by a shot across the bow. If she closes within five hundred yards, take her out. Sound general quarters."
"General quarters, aye, Captain." The XO picked up the 1MC, the public address system that broadcast all over the four hundred, forty-five-foot warship. "General quarters! General quarters! Small craft approaching at three o'clock. Possibly hostile. General quarters! Man battle stations!"
Alarm bells rang throughout the ship. Crew members scrambled up and down steel ladders and across the decks to take their positions. The XO's voice boomed again over the loudspeaker, broadcasting simultaneously over the open maritime radio channels.
"This is the USS Reuben James. To the vessel approaching: turn back or you will be fired upon."
"Repeat the warning, XO."
"This is the USS Reuben James. This is your last warning. Turn back or you will be fired upon."
The boat sliced through the swells, straight toward the ship.
"Weps, fire one warning shot across the bow!"
"One warning shot across her bow! Aye, sir!"
White smoke rose from the barrel of the Oto Melara 76/62 naval cannon in the forward section of the ship.
A second later, splash! Water sprayed across the boat's bow. No reaction.
"Fire! Aye, Captain."
This round splashed just in front of the boat. Again, no course change. The roar of the boat's engines could now be heard on the ship.
"That's enough," the captain said. "Open fire! Take her out!"
"Aye, sir." The weapons officer picked up a telephone to the two gunner's mates manning the fifty-caliber machine guns mounted along the starboard side of the ship. "Open fire. I repeat, open fire!"
Like dueling jackhammers shaking and pounding the deck, the fifty-caliber machine guns sprayed a wall of lead over the sea, splashing a straight trail in the water toward the boat.
Flames and smoke erupted. Boom! The sound of the explosion traveled across the water and rocked the Reuben James. The boat, now a flaming hulk, drifted listlessly on the sea.
"Get a rescue party out there," the captain said. "Let's see what we can find."
Excerpted from The Malacca Conspiracy by Don Brown Copyright © 2010 by Don Brown. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
What People are Saying About This
Brown, author of the Navy Justice Series and a former U.S. Navy lawyer, has written a book destined to top Christian fiction lists. A rogue Indonesian general and his army of terrorists attack oil tankers in the Strait of Malacca in order to profit from oil futures and buy nuclear weapons to establish an Islamic superpower. Navy JAG officers Zack Brewer and Diane Colcernian race against the odds and a 24-hour deadline before nuclear attacks hit the United States. Departing from the sea of books barely better than soap opera romance and using the frantic pacing of suspense fiction, Brown glides flawlessly among global hotspots of terrorism--including the United States--and the book's principal settings in Singapore, Indonesia, and Malaysia. The plot surges headlong with energy; characters--from various cultures--are both believable and accessible; rich dialogue flows. A Bible-quoting evangelical Christian president in the war room is over the top, and while evangelical hot-button issues may please some readers and turn others off, Brown has penned another winner. (July) -- Publisher’s Weekly
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
The plot was believable and rather scary and there is a good balance of military details and character development without overplaying it. The not overly complicated plot was suspenseful and complex but easy to follow. Terrorists blow up oil tankers and have access to nuclear weapons which they unleash on the City of Brotherly Love. Navy Jags, Zack and Diane, are enjoying a hot romance and their relationship is a fantastic double storyline with the backdrop that is going on in Indonesia. The plot is thrilling with twists and turns and surprises. The characters and settings are all well-defined and without vulgarity. Just wonderful! This book is loaded with goodies! You won't be disappointed!
Don Brown has the uncanny ability to tell a story which, even though it is fiction, is filled with facts about real geography, real politics, real governments, war, weapons, science, human nature and world religions woven together with such finesse that one learns pertinent details about these varied areas while just reading an awesomely exciting mystery novel. The daring travels of Navy JAG officers, Zack Brewer and Diane Colcernian, continue throughout the US and the world. The gripping and spell-binding adventures have you turning the pages faster than a speed reader because you want to get to the next ship, the next embassy, the next action or reaction of the US President, or another Rambo-type exploit by the Navy SEALS. It is explosive action from page one to page 349. One must surmise that Don Brown during his five years as a young Navy JAG Officer had a pressing desire to run away with a squad of Navy SEALS for a two-month action packed summer vacation on a group of tropical islands in the South Pacific. What an imagination! The book is educational in another important area. Learn about Jesus and our relationship with Him as you attempt to guess the next twist this tale will take. Even if the next twist is not the way you wanted it to be you will see that God can cause good to come from even very bad situations. Bravo! Great job with the Malacca Conspiracy, Don!
The back flap of the book misleads you to think the story will focus on Zack Brewer and Diane Colcernian-two JAG officers from Don Browns' Previous Navy Justice Series. I almost believed this book would come from two points of view, possibly three if you count the enemy, but the book is unique in that it focuses almost totally on The Malacca Conspiracy and less on the personal lives of Zack and Diane. It does not follow along the lines of some formula type stories and the book is well researched. Don Brown served five years in the U.S. Navy as an officer in the Judge Advocate General's (JAG) Corps. He served as an action officer to the Pentagon and left active duty in 1992 to pursue private practice. He remained on inactive status through 1999 and rose to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. He wrote The Navy Justice Series (Treason, Hostage, Defiance, and Black Sea Affair; the last book apparently predicted the 2008 shooting war between Russia and Georgia). The book is broken up by chapter and written in a time line. Several points of view might confuse some, but the time line makes it easy to transition from one point of view to another character's point of view without causing a pause in the action. This book keeps your heart pumping and at times you hold your breath in anticipation or fear. It is believable and possibly conceivable. You fear you might actually see this happen in our time. There are maps, and the conspiracy itself is well thought out. Zack and Diane's story is peppered in between as a subplot. You don't mind that their story is only a subplot because the action does not disappoint. I sat back after reading the last page and could only mutter, "Wow." Book Provided by Zondervan For Review
I had the privilege of interviewing Don Brown, on our radio show "Kingdom Highlights", for his new book, "The Malacca Conspiracy" published by Zondervan. In between Indonesia and Malaysia there is the Strait of Malacca with the idea being that this very important shipping lane is a choke point and if it is bottled up then the repercussions would be disastrous. Don Brown works from the idea that, in the future, there is a general in Indonesia, which is a Muslim country, that feels that the then president of Indonesia is dealing too much with The United States and needs to be removed. The only way, of course, is by assassination and this general also feels that the U.S. needs to be taught a lesson so he goes and gets a few nuclear suitcase bombs to explode in certain cities in America. While this book is not a part of the Naval Justice series that introduced Zack Brewer and Diane Cocernian this book does have them playing a large role in the development and outcome of the story. Don Brown has written a perfect thriller, all the characters are in deadly danger from the first word and continue to be so until the last few pages. "The Malacca Conspiracy" is a work of fiction set in the near future yet it also has the potential of becoming true as terrorism will increase across the planet with those that aid Israel the target of their anger. The Bible clearly states that nations will rise against nations so the events depicted here could become future headlines. We need to read this book for enjoyment purposes, and it is enjoyable, but we also need to have a Biblical mindset and pray for our nations to keep disaster to a minimum. I never had the chance to read the other four books written by Don Brown I will make up for this oversight very quickly, and I look forward to the next book with enthusiasm. I recommend it highly. If you missed the interview for "The Malacca Conspiracy" and would like to listen to it please go to www.kingdomhighlights.org where it is available On Demand. To listen to 24 Christian music please visit our internet radio station www.kingdomairwaves.org Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Zondervan. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."
nice plot, nice characters/ way to much of the author christian beliefs thru out the book. it started to turn me off halfway. i stopped reading the book.
PLEASE KNOW that this book is a thinly veiled (and poorly written) piece of extremest propaganda. If you are a narrow minded reader, extreme born again Christian, or a 13 year old boy you MAY like this book. Being none of those I was bored by its characters, embarrassed by its portrayal of Christianity (my religion,) surprised at its sexism, and shocked at its casual use of mass violence and destruction. That's all. (Thought I'd save some of you from making the same mistake of believing the 5 star "reviews" before me that I did.)
This review is from: The Malacca Conspiracy I've just finished reading the MALACCA CONSPIRACY - a page turner! Right from the start you are on the edge of your seat with all the twists and turns...you are transported to a world - one that we have all become all too familiar with since 9/11...one that shows the US military in a positive light, which is a nice aspect...one that puts you right in the middle of the action, following Zack and Diane through another action packed story! The MALACCA CONSPIRACY will appeal to men and women. The men will enjoy the military aspects of the novel and the women will enjoy the sexual tension between Zack and Diane. A great read can't wait for the next book by Don Brown!
I did love this book! It is packed full of action, faith, mystery and once you start it, you do not want to put it down. Don brings back the beloved charactors, Zack and Diane from his former books, "Treason", "Hostage" and "Defiance"! Everything Mr Brown writes will keep yours attention and each chapter draws you to the next chapter. The end brought tears to my eyes and chills at the same time.
One of my top books from 2014.
I have read all of Don's books so far. This was my absolute favorite. Could not put it down. Fast paced and interesting and always close to what is going on in the world today. Not only is he a great author, I know him and I love to brag about him and his many talents. A must read!!!!
HAVING BEEN IN MALAYSIA AND THE AREA OF INDONESIA, I REALLY ENJOYED THE DETAIL OF THE AREA DESCRIBED IN THE BOO.