SIGMA FORCE SERIES EPUB
Crash and Burn: A Sigma Force Short Story · Crash and Burn: A Sigma Force Short The Eye of God: A Sigma Force Novel · The Eye of God: A Sigma Force. SIGMA Force (Series). James Rollins Author Klaus Berr Translator (). cover image of The Doomsday Key and The Last Oracle with Bonus Excerpts. His Sigma series has been lauded as one of the "top crowd pleasers" (New York Times) and one of the "hottest summer reads" (People Sigma Force (Series).
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In the race to save one of their own, Sigma Force must wrestle with the deepest spiritual mysteries of mankind in this mind-expanding. Download The Bone Labyrinth: A Sigma Force Novel (Sigma Force Series Book 11) Download at: wildlifeprotection.info?book=B00OP1K6GS. Description The explosive first adventure in James Rollins' bestselling Sigma Force series! A freak explosion in the British museum in London.
The Demon Crown: A Sigma Force Novel (Sigma Force Novels)
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Map of Bones: Description The bones lead to ancient mysteries and present-day terror. To follow them means death. During a crowded service at a cathedral in Germany, armed intruders in monks' robes unleash a nightmare of blood and destruction. But the killers have not come for gold; they seek a more valuable prize: Though only into her third decade, she now needed Tabor's strong back and arms to help her move, even to slip her linen robe back over her head. As they set off away from the confluence, Sabah watched the sandstorm roll inexorably toward them, laced with lightning born from the roiling clouds of dust.
She could sense that energy flowing across the desert.
She smelled it in the air, felt it stir the small hairs along her arms. With God's will, those same blowing sands should help cover their handiwork, to bury it under windswept dunes. But first they had to reach the distant hills.
She concentrated on putting one foot before the other. Still, she feared she had waited too long at the river. By the time she and Tabor reached the deep cleft between two hills, the storm had caught them, howling overhead and scouring any exposed skin with burning sand. Carried now, she felt her toes brushing the ground, scribing the sand underfoot with indecipherable glyphs of beseechment. I must not fail. Then they were through the dark doorway and hurrying down a long, steep passageway to the greater wonder sculpted out of the sandstone below.
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Torches lit the way, flickering shadows all around them, slowly revealing what was hidden, what had been created by artisans and scholars working in tandem for over seven decades. Tabor helped her over the arcade of large stone teeth and across the sprawl of a sculpted tongue, carved in exquisite detail. Ahead, the chamber bifurcated into two tunnels: It was the latter route they took now in great haste.
As Tabor helped her, she pictured the subterranean complex beneath these hills. It had been dug out and fashioned to model the interior workings of a featureless figure in repose, one whose body lay buried under these hills.
While this sculpture had no exterior-for the world was its skin-all of the internal details of the human body had been meticulously carved out of the sandstone, from liver and kidney to bladder and brain.
Tracker: A Short Story Exclusive
Beneath the hills, her order had created their own stone God, one large enough to make their home within, to use its body as a vessel to preserve what must be kept safe. Like I must do now. Tabor led her to where the ridge-lined passageway split yet again into two smaller tunnels, marking the same division of airways found in her own chest.
He took her to the left, requiring that they duck slightly from the curved roof of the smaller passage. But they did not have far to go. Torchlight grew brighter ahead as the tunnel ended and opened into a massive space, seemingly supported by stone ribs that arched up to the carving of a mighty spine overhead.
In the room's center sat a stone heart, rising four times her height, again rendered in perfect symmetry, with great curving blood vessels that fanned outward. She glanced to the handful of other Nubian servants, all on their knees, who awaited her in the chamber.
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She stared over to the colonnades of curved stone ribs. Between those ribs, fresh bricks had been used to seal the many alcoves hidden there. They marked the tombs of her brothers and sisters of the order, those who had preceded her into the future.
She pictured them seated or slumped on their chairs, their bodies slowly finishing their transformations, becoming vessels for the blessing. I am the last. She turned from the walls to face the stone heart. A small doorway opened into one of the chambers, a place of great honor. She shook free of Tabor's arm and took the last steps on her own.
She crossed to the doorway, bowed her head low, and climbed inside. Her palm felt the cold stone as she straightened. A silver throne awaited her inside, equally cold as she sat upon it. To one side rested a bowl of carved lapis lazuli. Water filled it to just shy of its silver-embossed brim. She lifted the bowl and let it rest on her thin thighs. Tabor leaned toward the opening, too pained to speak, but his face was easy to read, full of grief, hope, and fear.
Matching emotions swelled within her own breast-along with a fair amount of doubt. But she nodded to Tabor. The other servants came forward and began sealing the entrance with dry bricks of mud and straw. Darkness fell over her, but in the last flicker of torchlight from outside, she stared down at the bowl in her lap, recognizing the dark sheen to the water.
It was colored a deep crimson. She knew what she held.
It was water from the Nahal, from when the river had been cursed and turned to blood. The water had been collected ages ago and preserved by their order-along with the blessing held at its cursed heart.
As the last brick was set, she swallowed hard, finding her throat suddenly dry. She listened as a fresh coat of mud was smeared over the bricks outside.
She also heard the telltale scrape of wood being stacked under the base of the heart, encircling it completely. She closed her eyes, knowing what was to come. She pictured torches igniting that bonfire of wood. Slowly came confirmation as the stone grew warm underfoot. The air inside the heart-already stifling-did not take long to become heated. Any moisture dried away, escaping up the flue of the sculpted vessels. In moments, it felt as if she were breathing hot sand.
She gasped as the bottoms of her feet began to burn. Even the silver throne became as hot as the scorched lip of a dune under a summer sun.
Still, she kept quiet. By now, those outside should have exited this underworld, sealing the way behind them. They would leave these lands under the cover of the storm, vanishing away forever, letting the desert erase all evidence of this place.
As she awaited her end, tears flowed from her eyes, only to be dried from her cheeks before they could roll away. Through cracked lips, she sobbed from the pain, from the certainty of what was to come.
Then in the darkness came a soft glow. It rose from the basin on her lap, swirling the crimson water with the faintest of shimmers. She did not know if it was a mirage born of pain, but she found solace in that glow.
It granted her the strength to complete her last act. She lifted the bowl to her lips and drank deeply and fully. The life-giving water flowed down her parched throat and filled her knotted stomach. By the time she lowered the empty bowl, the heat inside the stone heart had intensified to a blistering agony.
Still, she smiled through the pain, knowing what she held within her.Be the first to like this. She did not know if it was a mirage born of pain, but she found solace in that glow. Last, of course, a special acknowledgment to the people instrumental to all levels of production: It was colored a deep crimson.
Then they were through the dark doorway and hurrying down a long, steep passageway to the greater wonder sculpted out of the sandstone below. We use your LinkedIn profile and activity data to personalize ads and to show you more relevant ads.