Hailed as “the John Grisham of Wall Street” by the New York Times , Christopher Reich returns to the world he knows so well--the dangerous, dazzling world of high finance and international intrigue. In this ingeniously crafted thriller, the bestselling author of Numbered Account and The First Billion introduces his most complex and engaging hero yet: forensic accountant Adam Chapel--and paints a frightening scenario where terrorism is big business and money is the ultimate weapon of war…
The explosion that shatters the smart Parisian apartment reverberates around the globe. In an instant, a suspected terrorist is dead and half a million dollars has vanished. Within days, the CIA is certain it has found a connection between the dead man and a planned terrorist attack on U.S. soil. Determined to avert another 9/11, they have assembled an elite counterterrorist task force, code name: Blood Money. Its mission: to follow the money trail. Its secret weapon: forensic accountant Adam Chapel. A man who trusts numbers more than people, Chapel has his own reasons for wanting to get the job done-- four of his colleagues were killed in the Paris blast. Now Chapel is thrust back into the line of fire when he teams up with British intelligence agent Sarah Churchill. The two are assigned to hunt down a shadowy mastermind who is moving vast sums of money from country to country, from bank to bank, leaving no tracks--as he prepares for an Armaggedon of his own devising.
As Chapel follows a disappearing money trail from Paris to Munich to the deserts of Saudi Arabia, Sarah uses her elite training to stalk the “shadow” and his elusive network. Meanwhile, their quarry is auditing their every move, laying a twisting trail of false clues and shocking surprises. With the clock ticking down, soon Chapel and Sarah have only days, hours, minutes to avert disaster as a master terrorist plots to unleash the first strike in a brilliantly orchestrated conspiracy--with an almost unimaginable goal.
Hurtling us from the winding alleys of Pakistan to the elite banking houses of Europe, The Devil’s Banker creates an adrenaline-fueled world where following the money has never been more dangerous, and evil has never been harder to unmask.
BONUS: This edition includes an excerpt from Christopher Reich's The Prince of Risk.
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|Title of eBook: The Devil's Banker|
|Release Date: 08-26-2003|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group||Store Sales Rank: 7238|
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|Parent title||The Devil's Banker|
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The Devil's Banker
IT IS DIFFICULT TO WALK CASUALLY WITH FIVE HUNDRED thousand dollars taped to your belly. More difficult still when any of the men brushing past you would gladly slit your throat were they to suspect the king’s ransom you carried.
The man who had chosen the warrior’s name Abu Sayeed snaked through the alleys of the Smugglers’ Bazaar, careful to check his impatient step. He was close now, but he could not hurry. To hurry invited attention. And attention meant trouble he could not afford.
Around him, shopkeepers leaned in open doorways, smoking cigarettes and sipping cups of tea. He could sense their eyes upon him as they studied his bearing, gauging its strength, deciding whether he was a predator or prey. Instinctively, he stood straighter and thrust his chin forward. But all the while he kept his pace relaxed, his face slack, even as the claws dug into him.
The money was divided into fifty packets, each containing ten thousand dollars, each wrapped and waterproofed in transparent plastic. The packets had sharp, cruel corners that chafed and cut his flesh. He had been traveling for thirty-six hours. His chest and back were flayed as if scored by a cat-o’-nine tails. Only by thinking of the operation was he able to continue. The prospect of the infidels’ death invigorated him with the strength of the Pharaoh’s army.
At four p.m., the summer sun was at its fiercest. Dust devils arose on the dusty road, swirled lazily, then spun themselves out. After a brief lull, the bazaar was rousing itself to life. Beneath fluorescent lights, shelves sagged with cartons of Dunhill cigarettes, Toshiba laptops, and Paco Rabanne col