By James Rollins
From New York Times bestselling writer James Rollins comes an exciting brief tale that delves deep underneath the town of Paris to a dismal necropolis, the place the one ability for break out is…The Skeleton Key.
Seichan is ripped out of the Sigma sequence for an event all her own—but can she live on? the attractive and elusive murderer wakes in a lodge in Paris with a dangerous digital collar mounted to her throat. Joined by way of a boy who's equally threatened, she needs to rescue the son of a hated enemy, who has fallen less than the sway of the nefarious chief of an apocalyptic cult. to outlive, she needs to enterprise into the darkish global underneath town of lighting, into the notorious catacombs of Paris. stuck among enemies, she needs to struggle for her life…while time ticks down towards a fiery apocalypse. yet in the dead of night, surrounded by means of the moldering bones of the useless, even luck doesn't equivalent survival. finally, the one actual wish for the area lies in a gorgeous act of betrayal.
Included with this brief tale is a sneak peek on the first 70 pages of The satan Colony, the place a clue unlocked by means of The Skeleton Key will play a key role.
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Additional resources for The Skeleton Key: A Short Story Exclusive (Sigma Force Novels)
She slowly stretched a kink out of her left leg. yet her again endured to pain. It wouldn’t be for much longer, she promised herself. She’d been hiding right here because the break of day. of her acquaintances, pretending to be inebriated and disorderly, had lured the guards a couple of yards clear of the cave front. utilizing the distraction, she had ducked out of her hiding position and slipped into the tunnel in the back of them. It were a problem to creep silently into place. yet at merely eighteen years of age, she was once lithe, skinny, and knew tips on how to dance via shadows, a ability realized from monitoring along with her father seeing that she used to be knee-high to him. He had taught her the previous ways—before being shot whereas riding a cab in Boston. The reminiscence spiked a flare of bone-deep anger. A yr after his loss of life, she were recruited through WAHYA, a militant local American rights team, who took their identify from the Cherokee notice for “wolf. ” They have been fierce, crafty, and prefer her, they have been all younger, none over thirty, all proudly illiberal of the groveling of the extra verified corporations. Hidden at nighttime, she enable that anger stoke via her and hot away her fears. She remembered the fiery phrases of John Hawkes, founder and chief of WAHYA: Why may still we need to wait to be passed again our rights by way of the U. S. govt? Why bend a knee and settle for bread crumbs? WAHYA had already made headlines with a number of small occasions. They’d burned an American flag at the steps of a Montana courthouse after the conviction of a Crow Indian for utilizing hallucinogenic mushrooms in the course of a spiritual rite. basically final month, they’d spray-painted the places of work of a Colorado congressman who sought regulations at the state’s Indian casinos. yet occasions right here, in response to John Hawkes, provided an excellent better chance for publicity at the nationwide degree. Drawn by means of the talk, WAHYA could pop out of the shadows and take concerns into its personal arms, mount a company stand opposed to executive intrusion into tribal affairs. A shout drew her eyes towards the deeper tunnel. She tensed. Earlier—before the 2 new arrivals obtained here—a crash had echoed out of the again cavern, through a livid bout of cursing. anything had basically long gone flawed. She prayed that it didn’t pose an issue for her challenge. particularly after ready right here goodbye. Kai shifted her weight to her different leg, looking endurance, expecting the sign. She reached out and rested one hand at the backpack jam-packed with C4 explosive, already embedded with instant detonators. It shouldn’t be for much longer. 11:46 A. M. “What did you do? ” Hank requested, his voice booming around the small cavern, jam-packed with outrage. Maggie positioned a soothing hand on his shoulder. She famous the matter instantly as she stepped into the again cavern. alongside the some distance wall were stacked a pile of stone bins, all exact, each one a cubic foot in measurement. She had tested one the day before today. It had reminded her of a small ossuary, a stone field used to carry the bones of the useless. yet till she acquired permission from the local American delegation of NAGPRA, not one of the containers will be opened.