Gemini Cell (Shadow Ops: Gemini Cell)

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9780425269640: Gemini Cell (Shadow Ops: Gemini Cell)

Myke Cole continues to blow the military fantasy genre wide open with an all-new epic adventure in his highly acclaimed Shadow Ops universe—set in the early days of the Great Reawakening, when magic first returns to the world and order begins to unravel...

US Navy SEAL Jim Schweitzer is a consummate professional, a fierce warrior, and a hard man to kill. But when he sees something he was never meant to see on a covert mission gone bad, he finds himself—and his family—in the crosshairs. Nothing means more to Jim than protecting his loved ones, but when the enemy brings the battle to his front door, he is overwhelmed and taken down.

That should be the end of the story. But Jim is raised from the dead by a sorcerer and recruited by a top secret unit dabbling in the occult, known only as the Gemini Cell. With powers he doesn’t understand, Jim is called back to duty—as the ultimate warrior. As he wrestles with a literal inner demon, Jim realizes his new superiors are determined to use him for their own ends and keep him in the dark—especially about the fates of his wife and son...

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About the Author:

As a security contractor, government civilian, and military officer, Myke Cole’s career has run the gamut from counterterrorism to cyber warfare to federal law enforcement. He’s done three tours in Iraq and was recalled to serve during the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. He recently joined the cast of the TV show Hunted on CBS as part of an elite team of fugitive hunters. All that conflict can wear a guy out. Thank goodness for fantasy novels, comic books, late-night games of Dungeons & Dragons, and lots of angst-fueled writing. Myke is the author of Javelin Rain and Gemini Cell, prequels to his Shadow Ops novels, which include Breach Zone, Fortress Frontier, and Control Point.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AUTHOR’S NOTE

PROLOGUE

“Sarah has been working for four years to get this show.” Though Biggs was his lieutenant, James Schweitzer didn’t call him “sir.” They didn’t stand on formality in his corner of the navy. “I thought we were stood down. This will kill her.”

He glanced over his shoulder at his wife. Sarah had noticed the call but was doing her best to keep the irritation from her face.

“That was before I got word that our ship might be coming in.” Lieutenant Biggs sounded grim. “Now, suit up. We’re mustering.”

“Might be coming in, or is coming in? Damn it, she’s already on her last nerve with the pace of operations. Do you know how hard it is to get an art showing in Norfolk? There are critics here from every paper in the Tidewater. She needs me. I can’t leave unless it’s going to count.”

Biggs was silent a moment. “Still waiting on the intel watchstander. If this is the right one, we’re going.”

“Then call me when you’re sure it’s the right one.”

“God fucking damn it, Jim, I am not—”

“I’m a fifteen-minute drive from Station. I can be there before you finish boat checks. Call me when you know.” Schweitzer killed the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket before Biggs could say anything else.

Schweitzer took a deep breath, willing the knot in his stomach to settle. This was Sarah’s first show in Norfolk, and she was nervous as hell. Hopefully, the watchstander would be slow in confirming the target, or Biggs was wrong altogether. Schweitzer turned, putting on a smile, shaking his head as he walked to where his wife leaned against the art-gallery door.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Biggs dug himself another hole. This is the thing about junior officers, they need us to keep them from walking off a cliff. It’s fine.”

She frowned at him, her dark eyes narrowing beneath her bright pink bangs, the two purple streaks framing her face, so beautiful she still made his breath catch after all these years. “If he needed help, why didn’t he go to Chief?” she asked.

Schweitzer winced internally, struggled to find words.

“Jim.” She spoke as if to a little boy. “Do you know where liars go?”

“To the movies?”

“To the couch for the night. Without getting any.”

“You are a coldhearted woman.”

“I am a beautiful angel who can see through your bullshit like it’s clean glass.”

Schweitzer sighed. Lying to her was a necessity of his job, but he knew better than to think it would ever work. “You need to focus on your opening. We can talk about it when we get home.”

She drew her lips into a hard line and breathed out through her nose. “So, that means we’re going home together. As in, you’re staying for the whole event.”

“We’ve only got the babysitter until eleven. You know Patrick isn’t really going to sleep until you come in and kiss him good night.”

She grimaced. “Oh, right. Let me call before we go in.”

He touched her elbow. “Babe, you called her ten minutes ago.”

She looked up at him. “I did? I did.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, inhaled her rosewater perfume. “You know what you’re doing?”

“What?”

“You’re trying to get your mind off this opening by worrying about something else. That’s fear talking. Mission first. Focus.”

“Mission first.” She was smiling now.

“Mission first,” he said, “and people always. You are a fantastic mother and a better wife than I could ever hope for. I love you so much it hurts. Now, get in there and show them what I see every day.”

“Love you, too,” she answered. Her face composed, the smile smoothed.

They turned together and stepped into the gallery.

The crowd inside applauded as Sarah entered. Her paintings lined the walls, hanging from clear line, looking as if they were floating amid tastefully arranged sprays of white orchids. Schweitzer caught himself scanning the crowd for threats, noting the exits and blind corners. Stop it. You’re not at work. This is for Sarah. Be present.

“Sarah!” squealed a tall woman wearing diamond earrings likely worth more than their car. She stretched her arms to embrace his wife, and Sarah returned the hug with precisely the correct blend of affection and forbearance, turning to Schweitzer as they parted. “Jim, this is Bethany Charles. This is her gallery.”

Schweitzer smiled, extending a hand. “Thanks so much for hosting us.”

Bethany dragged the proffered hand until Schweitzer was wrapped in a tight hug. Her pale neck smelled like oranges and alcohol. He met Sarah’s eyes over Bethany’s shoulder and made a face. Sarah rolled her eyes and grinned.

“Sarah’s told me all about you,” Bethany said when she finally released him. “She says you’re in the navy, but absolutely will not talk about what you do! I’ve been in Norfolk long enough to know how it is with you intel folks.”

Schweitzer let her error pass as she put the back of her hand to her mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. “Your secret’s safe with me!”

A man approached out of the crowd. He wore too-thick glasses and a beard that rivaled Schweitzer’s own. “Ms. Schweitzer,” he began.

Sarah took a step toward him and shook his hand. His smile froze at the close contact. Schweitzer winced internally. Guy was the shy type, liked more personal space. Sarah immediately released his hand and took a step back, smiling as if that was her intended approach all along. “Sarah Schweitzer, nice to meet you.”

The man’s face relaxed, and his smile turned genuine. “Leo Volk, I write for the Virginian Pilot.”

“Oooh,” Bethany whispered to Schweitzer as Sarah and Leo spoke. “That was a good save. He’s not one you want to disappoint.”

Schweitzer shrugged. “She’s a natural. She should have joined the navy. We could have used her in intel.” He smirked internally. No harm in perpetuating Bethany’s assumption.

“Well, one sailor per family is plenty.” Bethany gestured to Schweitzer’s chin. “Don’t they give you grief about letting your beard grow?”

Schweitzer smiled. “I’m on leave,” he lied. “I’ll shave it when I get back to base.”

Bethany followed Schweitzer’s gaze to his wife. “She really is quite socially adroit.”

“She’s had a lot of practice.” It was a gross understatement. The practice was born of years of dedication to her craft and the networking that surrounded it, until it had become as natural as breathing.

Sarah wrapped up her conversation with Leo and headed into the crowd. She looked over her shoulder at Schweitzer, cocked an eyebrow.

You’re good, he mouthed.

I know, she mouthed back, gave an exaggerated wink.

He missed Bethany’s next question, intent on Sarah, circling and smiling and engaging with such ease that you’d never know this was her first big show, her “coming-out” in the Mid-Atlantic arts scene. The stakes were high.

But that was when Sarah Schweitzer locked on. When it mattered. She was a professional.

Like him.

“I’m sorry?” he asked Bethany.

“I was asking if you like art?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘art.’ I like her paintings,” he answered. And I love the painter.

Sarah was speaking to another man now, Schweitzer recognized him as an art critic from one of Sarah’s magazines. She was matching his style effortlessly, leaning in at the same angle, nodding recognition at a point he was making. He laughed like an old friend, put unconsciously at ease by her smooth reading of his signals. Sarah looked lit from within, like she was having the time of her life.

But Schweitzer caught a glance out of the corner of her eye, then another. She was looking to see if he was still there.

He could stare down a gun barrel. He could run until his lungs burst. He could always find a way. But to give Sarah what she needed, he’d have to stay, really stay. And that would mean giving up the one thing that made him as powerful as she was.

Sarah was approaching him now, her hand on the elbow of a man in his midthirties, a mop of Dylanesque curly hair hanging in his face. He wore a corduroy jacket and an expression of cool boredom. “Honey, do you remember the sculptor I was telling you about?”

Schweitzer did, the man made scale replicas of major monuments entirely out of gun parts. His work was amazing. What was his name . . .

Sarah was smiling as the man’s hand came up to shake Schweitzer’s. “This is my husband, Jim.”

The pride in Sarah’s eyes sounded in her voice. She wasn’t just showing off for her husband, she was showing her husband off. Schweitzer blinked.

“I’ve heard great things about you. My name is . . .” the sculptor began.

Schweitzer’s pocket buzzed. The bosun’s pipe ringtone sounded.

Sarah’s expression changed as Schweitzer lifted his phone to his ear, sliding from shock to recognition to hurt to anger and back to composure in an instant.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Schweitzer said as he hit the ANSWER button, his stomach doing somersaults.

“It’s fine,” she was saying, the professional mask already back in place. “Do your job.”

Her big night. The one she had worked four long years to get.

Schweitzer prayed it was a wrong number, or the babysitter calling to say Patrick wouldn’t go to bed.

“It’s our ship,” Biggs said. “We’re going.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah said again, reading Biggs’s words in Schweitzer’s expression.

But it wasn’t fine.

It wasn’t fine at all.

CHAPTER I

An impossible shot, and a risky one. Schweitzer took it anyway.

The small boat rocked beneath him. His target paced the cargo deck of the freighter, rolling with the swells, obscured by darkness and fog. The man was just a speck at this distance, at the limit of Schweitzer’s effective range, with five hundred meters of heaving water to cover.

But Schweitzer’s boat would cover that five hundred meters in short order, and deliver the SEAL team to the target. And that man couldn’t be left alive to sound the alarm before they arrived.

Petty Officer First Class James Schweitzer closed his left eye. The Night Optical Device mounted to his helmet turned the world into a shifting haze of green witchlight. NODs bent shadows, distorted depth perception.

They made it harder to hit what you were aiming at.

He squeezed the broom-handle grip under his carbine’s barrel, and a pencil-thin beam shot across the intervening distance, visible only to those wearing NODs. The boat’s modified engines turned soundlessly underwater. The silence and darkness rendered the craft nearly undetectable.

The distance was too great. The beam diffused far short of the target. Schweitzer breathed deeply and relied on his training. Lead the target. Fire between breaths. Slow, steady squeeze to the rear. Don’t anticipate the recoil. Let the shot break.

The carbine was silenced, but if he missed, there was nothing he could do to stop the noise of the bullet slamming into the freighter’s metal hull, or the side of one of the stacked shipping crates behind the man making his way along the cargo deck toward the superstructure. That noise would inevitably raise the alarm. Up close, the man might look like an ordinary seaman, part of the freighter’s deck crew, but Schweitzer knew that he was a hardened enemy operator. A killer, not so different from Schweitzer himself.

Schweitzer was a professional, a product of years of rigorous training. Shooting people was what he did. But even professionals had to step out on a ledge and take a chance sometimes.

The man stepped clear of the last container. Nothing but open air behind him.

He exhaled, waited half a moment, then pulled the trigger.

His rock-steady frame absorbed what recoil wasn’t already mitigated by the carbine’s padded stock and weighted bolt. The gun barely moved.

The bullet rocketed across the intervening distance, racing toward his target at thirty-one hundred feet each second.

It would be the greatest shot of his career if he didn’t miss. Behind Schweitzer, the four other SEAL operators held their collective breath, straining into their scopes to keep an eye on the bobbing speck that was Schweitzer’s target.

The speck hovered for a moment, stiffened.

Then fell.

SEAL teams were meant for foreign warfare. They could only conduct operations in American waters when there was a qualified terrorist threat. While the “nexus to terrorism” made the operation legal, Schweitzer’s skill made it possible. He’d been a mediocre student, of middling looks. He’d never been a good hand at painting or music.

But out here, he was an artist.

Chief Petty Officer Ahmad let out a breath, the slight shudder in her exhalation the only indicator that she’d been nervous. “Okay, so you can shoot.”

Schweitzer lowered the carbine and allowed himself a moment to face her and the rest of the team. Ahmad never smiled, but Chang’s balaclava looked lumpy at the corners, the black fabric barely concealing his grin. “That was fucking amazing, dude.”

“Secure that,” Ahmad said, glancing down at her watch. “We’ve got another . . . fifteen minutes without air cover. Stay locked on. Watch that deck.”

“I don’t like this vague-ass target,” Chang groused. “Shipping container full of what? Bad guys? Explosives? Aliens? What’s in there?”

“We don’t get to pick the target,” Schweitzer answered. “You’re not the lieutenant, Steve. You want to call the shots, rank up.”

Ahmad jerked a thumb in Schweitzer’s direction. “What he said.”

Chang shook his head and was silent.

Ahmad looked at her watch again. “Fourteen minutes to air cover.”

Even so, they had time before they reached the target. The kill had earned them precious breathing room, taking down the only eyes on the freighter’s starboard beam. The enemy didn’t know the team was coming. Schweitzer’s shot ensured it would stay that way. Chang ceased smiling and returned to overwatch, sighting down his carbine’s thermal scope at the deck. Schweitzer released his carbine and let the sling take the weapon’s weight as he folded down the ruggedized minicomputer mounted to the front of his body armor. Compact and useful, the minicomputer would do double duty slowing an enemy round before the armor’s interceptor plate had to do its job.

Schweitzer propped up his NODs as the screen flashed into low light, showing the specifics of his target. The computer reeled off details of the Body Farm’s operations, from drug smuggling in Southwest Asia to trafficking sex slaves in Eastern Europe. But the vast majority of the hits were the kind that called for Schweitzer and his team, attempts to bring terrorists into the country:

NOV 13—0843z—MINI-CONEX DROPPED BY PARACHUTE (INTEL DRVN.)—CNT. 2 MANPAD ANTIAIR SYSTEMS.

NOV 29—1117z—SCALLOPER WITH HIDDEN COMPARTMENT (K-9 ALERTED)—3 PAX—ALL 3 MILITARY-AGED-MALES (MAMS)—ALL WATCHLIST HITS (CLICK FOR DETAILS).

Intel could never prove that those missiles were meant for those men or what their target might be. Frankly, Schweitzer didn’t care. His last op had been smoking-gun conclusive—terrorists being smuggled into the country. It resulted in a chain ...

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Descrizione libro Ace Books, United States, 2015. Paperback. Condizione libro: New. Language: English . Brand New Book. Myke Cole continues to blow the military fantasy genre wide open with an all-new epic adventure in his highly acclaimed Shadow Ops universe--set in the early days of the Great Reawakening, when magic first returns to the world and order begins to unravel. US Navy SEAL Jim Schweitzer is a consummate professional, a fierce warrior, and a hard man to kill. But when he sees something he was never meant to see on a covert mission gone bad, he finds himself--and his family--in the crosshairs. Nothing means more to Jim than protecting his loved ones, but when the enemy brings the battle to his front door, he is overwhelmed and taken down. That should be the end of the story. But Jim is raised from the dead by a sorcerer and recruited by a top secret unit dabbling in the occult, known only as the Gemini Cell. With powers he doesn t understand, Jim is called back to duty--as the ultimate warrior. As he wrestles with a literal inner demon, Jim realizes his new superiors are determined to use him for their own ends and keep him in the dark--especially about the fates of his wife and son. Codice libro della libreria AAS9780425269640

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Descrizione libro Ace Books, United States, 2015. Paperback. Condizione libro: New. Language: English . Brand New Book. Myke Cole continues to blow the military fantasy genre wide open with an all-new epic adventure in his highly acclaimed Shadow Ops universe--set in the early days of the Great Reawakening, when magic first returns to the world and order begins to unravel. US Navy SEAL Jim Schweitzer is a consummate professional, a fierce warrior, and a hard man to kill. But when he sees something he was never meant to see on a covert mission gone bad, he finds himself--and his family--in the crosshairs. Nothing means more to Jim than protecting his loved ones, but when the enemy brings the battle to his front door, he is overwhelmed and taken down. That should be the end of the story. But Jim is raised from the dead by a sorcerer and recruited by a top secret unit dabbling in the occult, known only as the Gemini Cell. With powers he doesn t understand, Jim is called back to duty--as the ultimate warrior. As he wrestles with a literal inner demon, Jim realizes his new superiors are determined to use him for their own ends and keep him in the dark--especially about the fates of his wife and son. Codice libro della libreria AAS9780425269640

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Descrizione libro Ace Books, United States, 2015. Paperback. Condizione libro: New. Language: English . This book usually ship within 10-15 business days and we will endeavor to dispatch orders quicker than this where possible. Brand New Book. Myke Cole continues to blow the military fantasy genre wide open with an all-new epic adventure in his highly acclaimed Shadow Ops universe--set in the early days of the Great Reawakening, when magic first returns to the world and order begins to unravel. US Navy SEAL Jim Schweitzer is a consummate professional, a fierce warrior, and a hard man to kill. But when he sees something he was never meant to see on a covert mission gone bad, he finds himself--and his family--in the crosshairs. Nothing means more to Jim than protecting his loved ones, but when the enemy brings the battle to his front door, he is overwhelmed and taken down. That should be the end of the story. But Jim is raised from the dead by a sorcerer and recruited by a top secret unit dabbling in the occult, known only as the Gemini Cell. With powers he doesn t understand, Jim is called back to duty--as the ultimate warrior. As he wrestles with a literal inner demon, Jim realizes his new superiors are determined to use him for their own ends and keep him in the dark--especially about the fates of his wife and son. Codice libro della libreria BZV9780425269640

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