Black Order (Sigma Force)
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A sinister fire in a Copenhagen bookstore ignites a relentless hunt across four continents. Arson and murder reveal an insidious plot to steal a Bible that once belonged to Charles Darwin. And Commander Gray Pierce dives headlong into a mystery that dates back to Nazi Germany...and to horrific experiments performed in a now-abandoned laboratory in Poland.
A continent away, madness ravages a remote monastery in Nepal, as Buddhist monks turn to cannibalism and torture. Lisa Cummings, an American doctor investigating the atrocity, is suddenly a target of a brutal assassin. And Lisa's only ally is Painter Crowe, director of SIGMA Force, who already shows signs of the baffling malady.
Now it is up to Gray Pierce to save them both as SIGMA Force races to expose a century-old plot that threatens to destroy the current world order . . . and alter the destiny of humankind forever.
shoulder-checked Ischke from behind. The woman, still slightly off balance from breaking Gray’s hold, flew forward into her brother. Onto his dagger. The serrated blade plunged into her chest. A scream of surprise and pain burst from her lips. It echoed out of her brother. The pistol dropped from Ischke’s fingers as she clutched her twin in disbelief. Gray dove and caught her falling pistol before it struck the ground. Skidding on his back, he aimed toward Isaak. The man could have moved,
result was the same. His fingers tightened on her hand. He had found her. And though they had been through so much together in these past days, they still barely knew each other. Who was she really? What was her favorite food, what made her let out a belly laugh, what would it be like to dance with her, what would she whisper when she said good night? Painter knew only one thing for certain as he sat in his gown, all but naked next to her, exposed down to the level of his DNA. He wanted to
grabbed his pager, dragging his sweatpants up with it. He confirmed her assessment. He rolled his feet to the floor and reached for the phone. Kat sat up next to him, pulling the sheets to cover her bare breasts, as if some manner of decency was necessary to call into central command. He dialed the number for Sigma Force’s direct line. It was picked up immediately. “Captain Bryant?” Logan Gregory answered. “No, sir. It’s Monk Kokkalis. But Kat…Captain Bryant is here with me.” “I need you both
tottering, weak, one side was severely scorched. Gray glanced back to the burning shop. How had the poor guy survived? Gray pictured where he had last seen the dog: blasted by the initial firebombs into the back wall, knocked unconscious. Fiona hugged the soaked brute. The dog must have landed under a sprinkler. She lifted the Saint Bernard’s face, staring nose to muzzle. “Good dog.” Gray agreed. He owed Bertal. “All the Starbucks you want, buddy,” he promised under his breath. Bertal’s
A fifth entered. He looked a lot like the assassin named Gunther. A giant bull of a man, thick necked, a stubble field for hair, silver or light gray. He wore baggy brown pants tucked into midthigh black boots and a matching brown shirt. Except for the missing black armband and swastika, he looked the part of a Nazi storm trooper. Or rather former Nazi storm trooper. He also had the same pale face as Gunther, only something seemed wrong. The left side of his face drooped like a stroke victim.