The Last Oracle (Sigma Force)

By James Rollins

In Washington, D.C., a homeless guy takes an assassin's bullet and dies in Commander grey Pierce's palms. A bloody coin clutched within the useless man's hand--an old relic that may be traced again to the Greek Oracle of Delphi--is the major to a conspiracy that dates again to the chilly warfare and threatens the very starting place of humanity. For what if it have been attainable to bioengineer the subsequent nice prophet--a new Buddha, Muhammad, or perhaps Jesus? might this moment Coming be a boon . . . or wouldn't it begin a series response that might bring about the extinction of humankind?

very important seconds are ticking quickly away as Pierce races around the globe looking for solutions, one step prior to ruthless killers decided to reclaim the worthy artifact. unexpectedly the way forward for all issues is balanced at the verge of collapse among heaven and hell--and salvation or destruction rests within the palms of exceptional kids.

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Her hair, damp with fever sweat, had parted a little bit in the back of her ear. A glint of metal shone via. the form was once unmistakably almost like the equipment hooked up to the unusual cranium. purely the following it was once on a dwelling topic. What had Archibald dropped at them? As Painter’s brain spun on percentages, Elizabeth hung farther again within the room. She pointed towards the wall. “Come see this,” she stated, her voice quavering with an fringe of worry. Painter retreated to her facet. She pointed to the paintings forming at the wall. From this far-off, what appeared like senseless scribbles had started to take shape. He watched the transformation spread over the process 4 lengthy silent mins. Elizabeth stuttered her amazement. “That’s…that’s…” “…the Taj Mahal,” Painter complete. within the silent ask yourself that undefined, a far off sound reached them. —whump, whump— A helicopter, flying low, coming nearer. grey straightened and reached for the lady. “Someone’s chanced on us! ” 6:02 A. M. Kiev, Ukraine Nicolas rolled off of Elena and onto his again. The resort room fan cooled his sweating physique. His back ached and his shoulders bore deep scratches that also burned. Elena rolled easily to her ft, with a simple swing of her hair, tangled to midback. The curving upward push and fall of her buttocks as she strode towards the bathe got here just about arousing him back. He stirred, yet he knew he had one other interview in a part hour. information of the failed assassination had already unfold everywhere. He will be on each overseas newscast. He’d already realized that the sniper, shot by way of the police, had died earlier than achieving the sanatorium. With the demise, not anyone may suspect that it had all been preplanned. Even the sniper—a mine employee from Polevskoy whose brother were killed in an commercial coincidence final year—never knew how artfully he’d been manipulated into the assassination scheme. It had all opened up with technical precision. Elena had timed her contact completely. A ability of hers. while primed, she may calculate possibilities to the nth measure. Her statistical analyses of commercial spreadsheets rivaled the world’s top economists. And having studied the technical necessities on so much pistols and light-weight fingers, she had in simple terms to determine how a weapon was once held and pointed to calculate its distinctive trajectory. Trusting this, he had placed his existence in her fingers this morning. And survived. At that second, at the back of the rostrum, he’d by no means felt the sort of overall loss of regulate, his very survival on the mercy of one other. After a life of keep an eye on, to unlock that grip even for a second had quickened his pulse. later on, he couldn't go back to the lodge quickly sufficient. Elena stepped rainy from her bathe and leaned bare within the doorway. The lust in her eyes slowly died—trailing the final spark of erotic stimulation from her augment’s neural array. The fiery lioness used to be turning into a sleepy kitten. nonetheless, Nicolas studied that final ember of fire—an arousing combination of want and hatred—but even that may fade to an easy chilly obedience. Such stimulation of her implant was once necessary—not simply to make the coupling excessive, but additionally to set off the right kind physiological reaction to extend the opportunity of fertilization.

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