by James R. Hannibal
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
When a suicide
bomber shatters the peace of a winter afternoon on the National Mall in
Washington, D.C., former pilot and undercover Cerberus operative Nick Baron
receives an eerie invitation from the chess app on his phone—a mysterious
figure named The Emissary wants to play.
Nick and his covert
unit—the Triple Seven Chase team—soon find themselves drawn into battle against
an unknown opponent who has resurrected an ancient order of assassins: the
legendary Hashashin. And there is a long-awaited prophecy being fulfilled by a
series of violent attacks which may culminate in a final apocalypse over
Jerusalem.
As the Triple Seven
fight to stop each attack, Nick tries to keep The Emissary on the hook by
playing their digital chess game. The lines between the game and the fight
begin to blur, as every time Nick loses a piece on the board, he loses one of
his men. And if Nick cannot find a way to stop the terrorist mastermind, a
checkmate may kill millions…
Book Links
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
As Nick
pointed out the National Air and Space Museum to his dad, he heard his wife
quietly giggling to herself.
He never
got the chance to ask her why.
Katy’s
laughter became a shriek as an immense blast rocked the Jeep up onto two
wheels. The driver-side windows blew completely inward, showering the interior
with glass. As the vehicle came crashing down onto four wheels again, it veered
left into oncoming traffic. Nick fought the wheel to regain control, swerving
back across his own lane and skidding into the curb with his foot jammed on the
brakes.
The bomb
had exploded ahead and to his left, next to Health and Human Services. The
fireball that first flashed in his vision had become a black cloud. Debris
rained down around them. Something landed on the roof with a heavy thump.
“Are you
okay?” he asked Katy, but she was busy reaching for her son.
“Luke!”
she cried.
Nick
turned with her and found that the toddler had escaped unscathed. Nick’s dad
had acted as a shield, taking the brunt of the flying glass.
“Dad,
you’re bleeding.”
“I’m
fine.”
“Good,
then take the wheel.”
Kurt
Baron furrowed his brow. “What? Where’re you going?”
Nick
didn’t answer. He looked to his wife. She had several small cuts on the left
side of her face, but nothing serious. Katy met his gaze and nodded sharply.
“I’ll be all right. Go.”
He popped
the rear hatch and climbed out of the Jeep, noting as he stepped around to his
father’s door that the object that had landed on his Jeep was a severed hand.
He brushed it off the roof and into the gray-brown slush beneath the curb.
“Dad, get up there and take the wheel. Get them to the hospital in Chapel
Point. The closer facilities will be too busy.”
“You get
back in the car and get us out of here yourself.”
Nick
didn’t have time for father-son competition. The Mall was about to fill with
first responders and rubberneckers, and soon there would be no exit. Even more
pressing, the reaper’s relentless clock had started ticking the minute the bomb
went off. As the ringing in his ears diminished, Nick was beginning to hear the
wails of the dying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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