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By James Rollins

The explosive first experience in James Rollins' bestselling Sigma strength series!

A freak explosion within the British museum in London ignites a dangerous race for an earth-shaking energy resource buried deep underneath the sands of historical past. Painter Crowe is an agent for Sigma strength, a covert arm of the security division tasked with holding harmful clinical discoveries out of enemy fingers. while an historical artifact issues the best way towards the mythical "Atlantis of the Sands," Painter needs to trip internationally looking for the misplaced city-and a damaging energy past imagining.

But Painter has pageant. A band of ruthless mercenaries, led by means of a former pal and best friend, also are reason on claiming the prize, and they're going to spoil an individual who will get of their way.

Ancient heritage collides with state of the art science-with the protection of the area at stake!

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Yet at the least the prisoner used to be going to cooperate. It was once a victory with which she must be chuffed. The Minister will be happy. nonetheless, bile churned in her abdominal, protecting her temper bitter. The curator had extra power in her than Cassandra had imagined. She started to comprehend Painter’s curiosity within the girl. Painter… Cassandra heaved out a perturbed sigh. His physique had by no means been came across. It left her feeling unmoored. If simply— A knock on the door interrupted her concepts. John Kane driven inside of ahead of she may possibly even flip. inflammation flashed at his blatant invasion of her privateness, his loss of appreciate. “Lunch used to be mentioned to the prisoner,” he acknowledged. “She’ll be prepared at fourteen hundred. ” Cassandra crossed to the desk of digital apparatus. “How did the subdermal functionality? ” “Registering completely. a very good, powerful monitoring sign. ” final evening, after the prisoner have been drugged, that they had implanted a subdermal microtransceiver among her shoulder blades. an identical equipment Cassandra used to be alleged to have implanted on Zhang again within the States. Cassandra chanced on it in particular pleasant to take advantage of Painter’s personal layout during this topic. The microtransceiver may act as an digital leash at the prisoner after they have been at the streets. they'd be capable to song the curator for a ten-mile radius. Any try out at get away will be quashed. “Very good,” she stated. “See that your males are all prepared. ” “They are. ” Kane bristled at her command, yet his neck used to be additionally at the line if this project failed. “Any observe from neighborhood gurus in regards to the ship’s explosion final evening? ” “CNN is blaming it on unknown terrorists. ” He snorted at this final. “What approximately survivors? our bodies? ” “Definitely no survivors. Salvage is simply commencing to verify reason and physique count number. ” She nodded. “Okay, get your males prepared. You’re pushed aside. ” Rolling his eyes a section, he swung away and left the room, pushing the door in the back of him, yet he didn’t shut it thoroughly. She needed to pass over and shove it the remainder of the best way. The latch clicked. simply hold needling, Kane…payback’s a whinge. Sighing her frustration, she moved again to the couch. She sat down, at the part. No survivors. She pictured Painter, remembering the 1st time he had succumbed to her refined advances, her conscientiously orchestrated seduction. Their first kiss. He had tasted candy, of the wine they’d had at dinner. His palms round her. His lips…his arms slowly sliding up the curve of her hip. She touched herself the place his palm had come to a leisure and leaned again into the couch, much less resolved than a second in the past. She felt extra anger than delight after the night’s project. extra edgy. and she or he knew why. till she observed Painter’s drowned corpse, his identify at the checklist of the lifeless dragged from the ocean, she could by no means be aware of with walk in the park. Her hand moved down alongside her hip, remembering. may well issues have grew to become out in a different way among them? She closed her eyes, hands clenching on her stomach, hating herself for even puzzling over the chance. rattling you, Painter… it doesn't matter what she may fantasize, it would’ve ended badly.

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