Callsign: King (Jack Sigler) (Chesspocalypse #1)

>>>Recent events have not compromised operational efficiency.

Maybe not for you. But I need to be very discreet. Everyone is under suspicion now.

>>>There is no cause for concern. Key network personnel have been positioned to minimize the consequences of this investigation. However, no external action is demanded of you, General.

What then?

>>>Information about the man who caused the recent disruption. I want to know everything about Jack Sigler.

Sigler? I didn’t realize he was behind all this. It makes sense now.

>>>You are familiar with him?

I am. Look, it’s not safe for me to do this right now, but I’ll put some information together. Contact me in a week to set up a dead drop.

>>>There is a 93.9% probability that Sigler will pursue further action against Brainstorm. The need for this information is urgent.

I’ll get it to you.

Graham Brown read the text message reply. He deleted it without responding and put his smartphone away.

A week after the destruction of the facility site in Algeria…a week after Jack Sigler had showed up to ruin the most audacious enterprise he had ever conceived…he found that he still could not keep the anger and desperation from creeping into his Brainstorm communiqués. He had spent decades cultivating the myth that Brainstorm was something larger-than-life; a sentient, even omniscient computer, and not just an ordinary—well, maybe extraordinary—gambler from Atlantic City with an uncanny ability to accurately assess the probabilities of almost any event.

“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,” he muttered.

Like the Wizard of Oz, his real power wasn’t his genius, but the illusion that he was something more than human. Maintaining that illusion required him to behave like a computer, to be logical and emotionless when interacting with the men and women whose service and loyalty he had surreptitiously purchased over the course of thirty years.

That kind of clinical detachment hadn’t been a problem for him until Jack Sigler entered into the picture. Fortunately, there was an easy solution.

Kill Jack Sigler.





# # #





ABOUT THE AUTHORS


JEREMY ROBINSON is the author of eleven novels including PULSE, INSTINCT, and THRESHOLD the first three books in his exciting Jack Sigler series. His novels have been translated into nine languages. He is also the director of New Hampshire AuthorFest, a non-profit organization promoting literacy. He lives in New Hampshire with his wife and three children.

Click here for a sample of Robinson’s novel, THE LAST HUNTER

Visit him on the web, here: www.jeremyrobinsononline.com



SEAN ELLIS is the author of several novels. He is a veteran of Operation Enduring Freedom, and has a Bachelor of Science degree in Natural Resources Policy from Oregon State University. He lives in Arizona, where he divides his time between writing, adventure sports, and trying to figure out how to save the world.

Click here for a sample of Ellis’s novel, DARK TRINITY - ASCENDENT

Visit him on the web, here: seanellisthrillers.webs.com





—SAMPLE—




THE LAST HUNTER by JEREMY ROBINSON



Available for $2.99 on Kindle: Click here to buy!



DESCRIPTION:



I've been told that the entire continent of Antarctica groaned at the moment of my birth. The howl tore across glaciers, over mountains and deep into the ice. Everyone says so. Except for my father; all he heard was Mother’s sobs. Not of pain, but of joy, so he says. Other than that, the only verifiable fact about the day I was born is that an iceberg the size of Los Angeles broke free from the ice shelf a few miles off the coast. Again, some would have me believe the fracture took place as I entered the world. But all that really matters, according to my parents, is that I, Solomon Ull Vincent, the first child born on Antarctica—the first and only Antarctican—was born on September 2nd, 1974.



If only someone could have warned me that, upon my return to the continent of my birth thirteen years later, I would be kidnapped, subjected to tortures beyond comprehension and forced to fight...and kill. If only someone had hinted that I'd wind up struggling to survive in a subterranean world full of ancient warriors, strange creatures and supernatural powers.



Had I been warned I might have lived a normal life. The human race might have remained safe. And the fate of the world might not rest on my shoulders. Had I been warned....



This is my story—the tale of Solomon Ull Vincent—The Last Hunter.




EXCERPT:





12


My foot rolls on a bone as I kick away from the bodies. There’s so many of them, I can’t make out what I’m seeing. It’s like someone decided to play a game of pick-up sticks with discarded bones. I fall backwards, landing on a lumpy mass. My hands are out, bracing against injury. Rubbery flesh breaks my fall, its coarse hair tickling between my fingers. I haven’t seen the body beneath me, but I know—somehow—that it’s dead.