Pulse (A Jack Sigler Thriller)
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Imagine a world where soldiers regenerate and continue fighting without pause, and where suicide bombers live to strike again. This is the dream of Richard Ridley, founder of Manifold Genetics, and he has discovered the key to eternal life: an ancient artifact buried beneath a Greek inscribed stone in the Peruvian desert.
When Manifold steals the artifact and abducts archaeologist Dr. George Pierce, the United States Special Forces Delta operative, Jack Sigler, callsign King, and his "Chess Team"―Queen, Knight, Rook, Bishop and their handler, Deep Blue―give chase. They must save Pierce and stop Manifold before they change the face of genetics―and human history―forever.
he could. "Take me to it." Ridley laughed and looked at Maddox. "He's as ambitious as you." He turned back to Pierce. "I'm afraid that's not possible right now." "Why not?" Ridley pointed to the side wall. "You have a window. Look for yourself." Pierce stood and balanced himself against the wall. The floor had shifted beneath him. He looked through the small oval window and held his breath. The ocean sparkled far below. They were in an airplane. Ridley clapped him hard on the
possibly highly decorated. Other than that, they knew nothing about the man except that he was their lifeline, their eye in the sky, and could seemingly mobilize every branch of the military at a whim. King knew the faces of every general who fit the bill and not one of them matched the silhouette on-screen. Of course, King knew, it could easily be a body double. "You sound confident," King said. An image appeared on-screen, covering Deep Blue's form. The satellite image showed three small
been pitch-black before. He was even more aware of the water's rising temperature. If he didn't drown, he'd soon be boiled like a lobster. King gained on Queen thanks to the swim fins. They were fifty feet from the exit, which stood out as a dim, moonlit circle. King pointed to his feet and reached a hand out to Queen. She saw the fins, nodded, and took his hand. They kicked together, increasing their speed. Twenty feet from the tunnel exit, King saw a thick drip of something sinking through
tossing Rook into the ocean had continued as neither man spoke to the other. A rift was growing on the team and that usually meant bad things. If someone didn't get injured as a result, someone would end up quitting. If they weren't reconciled by the mission's end, King would be forced to send one of them packing. The alternative was to risk all their lives. For now, the two would be separated. King spoke to Deep Blue in private, arranging the break. On top of all that, Pierce showed no signs
more Eu ro pe an than he did. Too much "backwoods and flannel in you," she'd explained. Unsure of where to begin their search, they took a "tour the rock" taxi, which drove them to all the local sites, starting with downtown Gibraltar. The city, being property of the United Kingdom, was a mix of British pubs, shops, and bright red phone booths better suited to a London street corner than a Mediterranean city. But the population density of the city made finding any kind of clue as to the