Pandora's Temple (Blaine McCracken)
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What if Pandora's Box were real? Blaine McCracken finds himself facing this very question--and the greatest threat to mankind--in his long-awaited return.
Rogue special-operations agent McCracken has never been shy about answering the call, and this time it comes in the aftermath of a deep-water oil rig disaster that claims the life of a onetime member of his commando unit. The remnants of the rig and its missing crew lead him to the inescapable conclusion that one of the most mysterious and deadly forces in the universe is to blame: Dark matter, both a limitless source of potential energy and an unimaginably destructive weapon.
Joining forces again with his trusty sidekick, Johnny Wareagle, McCracken races to stop two deadly enemies who want the dark matter at all costs. A powerful energy magnate and the leader of a Japanese doomsday cult both seek the ultimate prize for their own nefarious reasons, and McCracken and Wareagle's mission to defeat them takes the duo on a nonstop journey across the world and thousands of years into the past where the truth lies in the ancient Pandora's Temple, built to safeguard the world's most powerful weapon.
McCracken's only hope to save the world is to find the mythical temple. Along the way, he and Wareagle find themselves up against Mexican drug gangs, killer robots, an army of professional assassins, and a legendary sea monster. The hero of nine previous best-selling thrillers, McCracken is used to the odds being stacked against him, but this time the stakes have never been higher.
need to know is that this New Orleans center is a kind of prototype with enhanced security procedures.” “Meaning?” “Better you see for yourself, McCracken.” • McCracken saw exactly what Folsom had been referring to as soon as the elevator deposited them in a reception area outside the entrance to Homeland’s self-contained floors inside City Hall. A waist-high robot on treads, looking like a minitank, stood vigil outside the glass entry doors. “During the early days of the Iraq war,” Folsom
controlled environment we’ve created at CERN.” Bol was nodding along with Whitcomb’s words. “Releasing dark matter without the necessary safety protocols in place would be . . .” “Would be what, Doctor Bol?” Roy challenged. “It goes back to containment,” Bol explained. “Your oil rig witnessed firsthand the effects of releasing dark matter within an uncontrolled environment.” “Fine,” said Roy, squeezing the back of his chair, “and what if such a controlled environment, a means of containment,
isolate and study something you can’t even keep hold of for more than a nanosecond in any truly measurable quantity? You can see what I’m getting at here.” “Not really. I prefer to leave the tech stuff to the experts,” McCracken told him. “Then kneel before me and listen. We figure out how those ancient flyboys contained dark matter and we can keep what the Venture found from blowing up the planet. That means I’m headed out,” he finished, rising and cracking his knuckles. “Where to, Captain?”
repeating itself as the craft dipped and darted in sudden fits and starts. Sal Belamo felt the craft’s controls bucking in protest as it shuddered and shook in the vent’s concentration of geothermal energy. Then, all at once, the plume was gone and Belamo leveled the Crab off, a new subsurface world around them—a world that was utterly black beyond the limited reach of the Crab’s lighting. McCracken had the sense of being trapped in a jar, the vent above them now serving as the lid. He was
allowed for articulation were ravaged by the squid’s desperate attempts to pull free. “Any ideas, Indian?” McCracken asked as the submarine bucked and rocked precariously. “Just one, Blainey,” Wareagle said, moving toward the craft’s single hatch in the rear of the cabin with the sheath holding his Gerber MK-2 knife in hand. CHAPTER 80 The Mediterranean Sea Wareagle swam out through the pressurized hatch wearing a high-tech, much lighter version of the traditional atmospheric diving