Tracker: A Short Story Exclusive (Sigma Force Novels)

By James Rollins

From New York Times bestselling writer James Rollins comes a stirring tale of a soldier and his army warfare puppy who're drawn right into a darkish secret tracing again to international struggle II and a misplaced treasure tied to the bones of the dead.

Off the streets within the medieval center of Budapest, Captain Tucker Wayne and his battle puppy, Kane, rescue a mysterious girl fleeing 3 armed males. the key she holds will unencumber a negative treasure, one steeped in blood and treachery, tied to a criminal offense going again to the autumn of Nazi Germany and a history of anguish and soreness that reaches out from the prior to wreak havoc at the present time. In a last showdown within the depths of a misplaced cemetery, truths might be unearthed, treasures uncovered, and the destiny of all will leisure upon the shoulders of 1 guy and a puppy whose braveness is past measure.

Included with this exciting tale is sneak peek at Bloodline, the place the additional exploits of Tucker and Kane could be revealed.

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That modified this present day. After a protracted, heated name, Kenny had agreed to come back out at this serious juncture. With their father being affected by advancing Alzheimer’s, the surprising loss of life of his spouse despatched him right into a downward spiral. He’d spent the earlier 3 weeks in a memory-care unit, yet he’d come domestic final evening. and through this transition, grey wanted an additional pair of palms. Kenny had accrued adequate holiday time on the way to pop out for an entire weeks. grey meant to carry him to it this time. grey had taken a month off from paintings himself and used to be due again at Sigma headquarters in per week. prior to that, he wanted a number of days of downtime to get his personal condo so as. That’s the place Kenny got here in. His brother hauled his baggage out of the convertible’s trunk, slammed the lid, yet stored his palm at the chrome bumper. “And what approximately Dad’s motor vehicle? we would besides promote it. It’s unlike he can force it. ” Gray pocketed the keys. The vintage Thunderbird—raven black with a purple leather-based interior—was his father’s delight and pleasure. the guy had long gone to painstaking ends to revive it: tricking it out with a brand new Holly carburetor, a flame-thrower coil, and an electrical choke. “It stays,” he acknowledged. “According to Dad’s neurologist, it’s very important to maintain his setting as strong and constant as attainable, to keep up a well-known regimen. in addition to, no matter if he can’t force it, it’ll provide him anything to tinker with. ” Before Kenny may possibly determine what else to promote of his father’s property, grey headed towards the door. He didn’t hassle to provide to hold his brother’s baggage. He’d had sufficient luggage to accommodate in recent years. yet Kenny wasn’t performed. “If we’re alleged to preserve every thing the same—to fake nothing’s changed—then what am I doing the following? ” Gray swung towards him, balling a fist and tempted to take advantage of it. “Because you’re nonetheless his son—and it’s excessive time you acted love it. ” Kenny stared him down. Anger burned in his brother’s eyes, additional reminding grey in their father. He’d visible that fury all too frequently in his dad, in particular of overdue, a belligerence born of dementia and worry. now not that such anger used to be new. His father had regularly been a difficult guy, a former oil employee out of Texas till an business twist of fate took such a lot of his left leg and all of his delight, turning an oilman right into a housewife. elevating boys whereas his wife went to paintings were tough on him. To compensate, he had run the family like a boot camp. and grey, as obdurate as his father, had continually driven the envelope, a born insurgent. until eventually eventually, at eighteen years of age, he had easily packed his luggage and joined the military. It was once his mom who eventually drew all of them again jointly, the proverbial glue of the kinfolk. And now she used to be long past. What have been they to do with out her? Kenny ultimately hauled up his bag, shouldered previous grey, and mumbled phrases he knew would narrow like rusted barbed twine: “At least I didn’t get mother killed. ” A month in the past, that gut-punch might have dropped grey to his knees. yet after needed psychiatric sessions—not that he hadn’t neglected a few—his brother’s accusation basically left him iron-hard, momentarily rooted in position.

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