Sandstorm (Sigma Force)
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The explosive first adventure in James Rollins' bestselling Sigma Force series!
A freak explosion in the British museum in London ignites a perilous race for an earth-shaking power source buried deep beneath the sands of history. Painter Crowe is an agent for Sigma Force, a covert arm of the Defense Department tasked with keeping dangerous scientific discoveries out of enemy hands. When an ancient artifact points the way toward the legendary "Atlantis of the Sands," Painter must travel across the world in search of the lost city-and a destructive power beyond imagining.
But Painter has competition. A band of ruthless mercenaries, led by a former friend and ally, are also intent on claiming the prize, and they will destroy anyone who gets in their way.
Ancient history collides with cutting-edge science-with the safety of the world at stake!
get a good grade.” His smile was sincere if a bit shaky. “I don’t know,” she teased. “There’s always room for improvement.” “Fine. That’s the last time I take a dart in the back for you.” He sighed, staring into the darkness. “There’s a hell of a lot of water down here.” She remembered his fear of the sea, flashing back to a similar chat by the rail of the Shabab Oman. That now seemed like a world ago. Danny stood and stretched. “Coral and I were discussing that. About the sheer volume of
over her shoulder. “Something prized more than blood itself by the ancient peoples of Arabia.” She used a pick to pry a few crystalline chunks of the dried resin onto the table. She could smell the sweet aroma given off by the crystals, preserved throughout the long centuries. It was a scent from a time before Christ. “Frankincense,” Kara said, awe in her voice. “What does it mean?” “It’s a signpost,” Safia answered. “As the blood flows, so do the riches of Ubar.” She turned to her friend.
Part One Thunderstorm 1 Fire and Rain NOVEMBER 14, 01:33 A.M. THE BRITISH MUSEUM LONDON, ENGLAND HARRY MASTERSON would be dead in thirteen minutes. If he had known this, he would’ve smoked his last cigarette down to the filter. Instead he stamped out the fag after only three drags and waved the cloud from around his face. If he was caught smoking outside the guards’ break room, he would be shit-canned by that bastard Fleming, head of museum security. Harry was already on
Her therapist had told her this was a perfectly natural response. She should allow herself to feel this fury. Still, she felt ashamed of her anger, undeserving. She sat straighter. Water splashed over the tub’s edge and washed across the tiles, leaving a trail of jasmine petals on the floor. The remaining petals sloshed around her bare midsection. Under the water, something brushed against her knee, something as soft as a flower, but with more weight. Safia tensed, a rabbit in headlights. The
any of this have to do with them? We’re an archaeological expedition.” Kara answered before Painter could. “The explosion at the museum.” Omaha glanced at her, then back at Painter. He nodded. “She’s right. It was no ordinary blast. Residual radiation pointed to an extraordinary possibility.” All eyes were on him, except Coral, who still had her full attention on Omaha and the gun. “There is a high probability that the exploded meteorite contained some form of antimatter.” Omaha let out an