The world was on fire.It didn’t matter who started it……only who ended it.In the 2030s, the era of Putin and Xi ended, not with a bang, but in a poisoned whisper. In their place, new leaders emerged — charismatic, technocratic, and unflinchingly bold. As Russia and China purged their past, crushing the oligarchy, an alliance for future control emerged.Rare earth minerals had become the currency of the 21st century — whoever controlled them would dominate the future. From energy to data centers, microchips to autonomous weapons, all the world powers raced to see who would come out on top.World War III had already begun……even if no one realized it yet.Angola, Svalbard, Palawan, and Taiwan were more than just names on a map. They were the frontlines to a proxy war to control the means of production. These pawns on the chessboard would determine the technology of the future.The Portuguese President was killed in Angola. A Dutch warship was sunk near the Philippines. A Chinese vessel sabotaged undersea cables near Gotland. NATO was forced to respond.Would the newly formed Eurasian Defense Economic Pact reshape the world?Could the US and NATO extinguish the flames of war before it was too late?Find out what happens next in The Gotland Deception, a chillingly plausible technothriller thriller from the international bestselling authors of The Monroe Doctrine series and Battlefield Ukraine.
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Disclaimer: Although the story is based on events that could happen in the world, the story is entirely fictional and should be treated as such. This is a work of
No company, government agency, or defense contractor has sponsored, endorsed, or contributed to the development of this book. The inclusion of specific weapons systems, autonomous platforms, unmanned vehicles, software systems, or commercial entities is for fictional and narrative purposes only. The scenarios depicted represent the author’s creative interpretation of how such technologies could be employed by US, allied, or adversarial forces in a future, hypothetical conflict.
Nothing in this book should be construed as reflecting actual plans, capabilities, or endorsements by any military, governmental, or corporate entity. All opinions expressed are solely those of the authors.
The cold bit deep, settling into Pan Min-jae’s bones. He knew this was a dangerous game, but he had played it for years, slipping in and out of places men like him were never meant to be. But tonight was different. Tonight, he had witnessed men of power rarely seen together — Kuznetsov, Zhang, Sokolov.
Pan moved with haste after leaving the restaurant, his hands buried in the pockets of his wool coat. He turned the phone on, waiting for the familiar buzz in his hand to let him know it had connected to its satellite cellular network. His thumb twitched, cigarette trembling as he dragged deep, nicotine steadying his nerves. With a casual tap, he synced the parabolic mic in his glasses, the fifty-meter range capturing every whisper from the Shelby’s back room.
Next, he toggled to the encrypted messaging app on his phone to attach the photos and a short message to go along with the pictures of the men present at the restaurant —
There were more details to share, like the audio files the parabolic mic had captured, but these were much larger files, so he sent the photos first. He’d let the messaging app work on attaching the audio files after he’d retreated to his safe house, where he could take time to think about the meeting, the various men who were present, and what it all meant. If he was lucky, the camera built into his glasses might have recorded most of the meeting before he’d left.
Something about this meeting hadn’t felt right, and the longer he stayed at the restaurant, the more his instincts were screaming at him to run. As he continued to walk his countersurveillance route, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.
There was a shift in the air right before he heard the scrape of shoes. Pan perceived the low hum of a man flirting in Russian, and the subtle but unmistakable pull of someone moving in tandem with him.
Pan turned slightly and caught a glimpse of a couple laughing, swaying in the glow of streetlamps dotting the sidewalk. Then he thought he caught a momentary glint of light reflecting off the steel edge of a knife.
Just as Pan was reacting to the danger of a blade, pain lanced through his back, sharp and burning. His breathing locked. His legs buckled. A second thrust went deeper. Pan’s phone clattered to the pavement. His vision blurred, the darkness curling in as he clawed for the device, fingers trembling.
With all the strength he had left, he tried to reach for the phone — tried to transmit his intel. But a boot slid forward, pressing heavily against the device. The audible crunch of glass and plastic shattered his last hope of sending the message.