Racing Orion (eBook)

Zach Franz (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
308 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-0983-7914-8 (ISBN)

Infos

If you've longed for a spy thriller that delivers maximum action and suspense without sacrificing intelligence or emotion, you've found it. 'Racing Orion' is a gripping international adventure about a pair of unlikely allies who must save the world from a disaster it doesn't know is coming. Within the shadows of present-day Europe, two scientists have developed a horrific virus capable of decimating human life wherever it is unleashed. They call it Orion. The only hope to stop the strain is Jeremy Kent, an undercover CIA agent at the end of his rope. Miraculously escaping from a Russian prison, Kent must cross the continent with a pack of deadly assassins on his trail. Complicating matters, he soon runs into Allison Shaw, an American nurse caught in the crossfire. Against both of their wills, Kent is forced to take her with him. From bustling streets in Austria and France to Alpine foothills and the halls of Buckingham Palace itself, Kent and Allison trek westward, racing to stop Orion before it seals the fate of millions.

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If you've longed for a spy thriller that delivers maximum action and suspense without sacrificing intelligence or emotion, you've found it. "e;Racing Orion"e; is a gripping international adventure about a pair of unlikely allies who must save the world from a disaster it doesn't know is coming. Within the shadows of present-day Europe, two scientists have developed a horrific virus capable of decimating human life wherever it is unleashed. They call it Orion. The only hope to stop the strain is Jeremy Kent, an undercover CIA agent at the end of his rope. Miraculously escaping from a Russian prison, Kent must cross the continent with a pack of deadly assassins on his trail. Complicating matters, he soon runs into Allison Shaw, an American nurse caught in the crossfire. Against both of their wills, Kent is forced to take her with him. From bustling streets in Austria and France to Alpine foothills and the halls of Buckingham Palace itself, Kent and Allison trek westward, racing to stop Orion before it seals the fate of millions.

Textauszug

8

They were at the edge of the clearing when Berger’s right hip began to buzz. Squeezing the shovel between his arm and side, he snatched up his cell phone. “Yes?”

“Pull out your gun and check Kent’s pulse.”

“What?”

“He may be—”

Neither Berger nor LeRiche heard another word. They still possessed all their faculties, but their attention was quickly diverted. It wasn’t everyday a dead man came back to life.

Planting numbed heels into the snow like a stubborn zombie, Kent pushed off with shaky legs, sailing in front of his captors. He passed LeRiche’s inside hip and freed a 9mm Beretta from its holster. Swinging his arm right, he pulled the trigger. The Frenchman’s shocked face barely changed as a slug tore into his chest. Still airborne, Kent swept the barrel left and fired a second round.

At the mercy of a rapid decision, Berger forsook his own gun and gripped the shovel. He swung the spade head toward his chest like a pendulum. It intercepted the bullet just before impact, the deadly projectile ricocheting into the trees.

Kent saw this and squeezed the trigger again, but the gun failed to fire. The shock of his bruised body colliding with the frozen ground kept his finger from pulling back completely. Another chance never came as Berger, still in motion from blocking the bullet, violently flung the shovel toward his exposed attacker. The tool whirled forward like a helicopter blade. Kent desperately threw his legs up to block.

Arriving like a frozen hatchet, the spade hacked into Kent’s improvised barrier. He’d tried to lead with his heels, which were still numb, but the shovel also made vicious contact with both shins. He grunted in agony and raised the Beretta for retribution. Berger was already too close and chopped the gun from his hand.

Ryov and Tanaka bolted for the door before the first gunshot sounded over the phone. Gaining the entryway, the Russian quickly spun and pointed at the monitors. “In case he doubles back.”

Tanaka complied as his counterpart raced up a narrow stairwell and threw open the hatch. Scharp approached with his pistol out and a half-burnt cigarette dangling between his lips. “Gunshots?”

Ryov slammed the hatch down. “Kent’s alive. Follow me.”

Picking up the trail of footprints, both men broke into a frantic sprint.

Straddling Kent’s midsection, Berger reached down and clenched a pair of bear-like hands around his opponent’s throat. Kent immediately felt his vision begin to blur. He tried to pull the heavy arms off but knew it was an impossible task.

He balled his right fist and lunged for Berger’s jaw, but fell short as the German swiftly cocked his head back. The mighty hands regained their leverage, and Kent felt his neck continue to constrict. Darkness began creeping past the edges of his sight. Berger’s goal was simply unconsciousness—they still needed information from him. But there was no escaping a second time. Capture was the same as death.

Kent feverishly clutched the snow for some kind of weapon: a stick, a rock, anything. Instead, he found only white powder. The German leaned forward, putting the full weight of his torso onto his opponent’s already-bruised larynx. Kent’s entire upper body throbbed in pain as the shapes before him lost definition.

He grunted through the choke hold and pushed the cloud of unconsciousness back for one more second. Twisting his torso to the left, he brought his right hand up in a final attack. Berger maneuvered as before, but this time Kent’s arm was on a straighter trajectory. At its fullest extension his fist plowed into the German’s jaw. Each knuckle howled in pain, but Berger’s grip loosened. The darkness began to recede.

Kent felt a flurry of hope. He sent his left arm surging into Berger’s stomach. Dazed and sucking air, the German released his hold. The window widened further as Kent connected with another right cross to the face before kicking Berger off into the snow.

His gasped in some cold breaths, his vision rapidly clearing. He spotted the Beretta to his right and lunged for the handle. Instantly it was in his grip, the trigger close. He swung the gun around, but failed a second time to fire as Berger cut his shovel through the air like a sword. The spade head smashed into Kent’s right hand with a dull roar and the pistol flew from his grasp.

Ignoring a pair of freshly broke fingers, he waited on Berger’s follow-through and dove for the German’s right hip. He snatched an exposed Glock, then somersaulted ahead and brought it around. This time he didn’t even get turned halfway.

The shovel arrived like a sledgehammer. Kent toppled to his knees as the spade rammed into his bare back, just missing the spine. He tried to yell but choked on the pain. One more hit like that and it was over.

Berger obliged, bringing the steel head down once more. Kent sensed the blow and rolled to his right. The shovel bit hard into the ground inches away. Fumbling the Glock, an idea flashed in Kent’s mind and he tossed it into the air.

The move surprised Berger, who instinctively relaxed his grip on the shovel and reached for the gun. In the same motion Kent pulled the spade free and swung it north. The German had just enough time to feel the Glock’s handle before his left temple exploded with a concussive thud. Both eyes quickly rolled back as his thick frame toppled to the frozen ground.

Kent was already there, breathing heavily through cracked ribs. For a moment his gasps were the only sound; the forest was quiet. Feeling the cold seep into his pores, he fought the urge to shut down completely. It would have been so easy. But you won’t be the only one dying.

Besides, they were coming. Planting his palms in the snow, Kent pushed to his feet and retrieved the Beretta. He wanted to put a bullet in Berger’s forehead, but couldn’t afford to give his position away. He scanned the two prostrate forms before grabbing LeRiche’s shoes and forcing them on. Then came Berger’s jacket, and he darted off through the trees.

Seconds later Ryov and Scharp broke into the clearing, guns up. Both were breathing heavily from the extended run. The Russian pointed to the prone bodies without taking his eyes off the forest beyond. Spotting a pair of footprints, he crept toward the tree line like a lion on the prowl.

Kent raced through the maze of evergreens in fleet desperation. He didn’t know where he was headed, other than away from his enemies. He had to put as much distance as possible between himself and the clearing. Careful not to snap any fallen twigs, he nevertheless winced each time his boots crunched into a patch of wet snow.

Then it hit him.

He’d heard the pistol’s report but was in full stride and unable to attempt anything evasive. Arriving with surprising force, the slug tore through his newfound jacket and dug into his left side just above the waist. He spun forward, barely sidestepping a thick tree and spiraling toward the snow. Stay on your feet! The time interval between the gun’s firing and the bullet’s impact was miniscule; they were close. If he fell he was finished.

The space between his chest and the ground rapidly diminishing, Kent at last extended his left leg and planted it in the snow. He pushed off with phantom energy just before another shot sounded. The round coursed through the wooded maze like a miniature missile. He flinched as it exploded into a patch of bark inches behind his flailing jacket. He managed to keep his balance and continued sprinting forward.

His side shuddered in pain, cold blood wetting his back. Were any organs hit? For the next two minutes, it didn’t matter.

Then he saw another clearing. Less than a hundred meters away, it was larger than the one before. Much larger. In fact, it was the clearing—the end of the forest. Its expanse of white snow glowed like light at the end of a tunnel.

Kent pushed his exhausted frame forward. He had to increase the lead he had on his pursuers. The area ahead was his best chance of escape, but was looking more and more like an open field that offered no cover. If his hunters could shoot him through a maze of trees, they’d have no trouble doing so in the clear.

Fifty meters. No further shots, but he couldn’t risk a look back. Ahead the space began to take shape. The woods in which he ran painted the edge to his right and far beyond. The left side held a house. One-story, simple wood exterior. Smoke puffed from a small chimney. Kent knew it was his best option. Despite the long stretch of untouched snow in between, if he could round the corner of the house without being hit he might have a chance.

He forced himself through the last few meters. The gunshot wound had gone numb, but continued to bleed freely. His right shoulder, through its patch, burned sharper with every new stride. The rest of his body was freezing, any sweat it generated turning to ice on his raw skin.

He finally burst into the clearing and veered left. His prints would read like tracking lights in the snow, but there was nothing he could do.

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Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.10.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-10: 1-0983-7914-4 / 1098379144
• ISBN-13: 978-1-0983-7914-8 / 9781098379148