Storm Rising

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by Ronie Kendig


  A burst of gunfire chased her into the hall—who had been shot?

  “Don’t move, Peych.”

  Hearing Hristoff was still alive quickened Iskra’s pace. She ran as fast as she could, forbidding Bisera from lifting her head. She did not want these images burned into her daughter’s mind.

  The presence of Leif’s team cocooned her as she reached the kitchens, but a quick glance revealed Leif wasn’t there. She stopped.

  “It’s okay,” Mercy said.

  “Do it,” came Leif’s growl from the bedroom. “Give me a reason.”

  At the corner of the corridor, Mercy and Baddar nodded and escorted Iskra out through the halls. She was stunned at the way the guards allowed her to exit without resistance. The team led her to the servants’ entrance.

  Iskra shook, each step an effort. Each breath treacherous—would she really make it? Was this really happening? She hadn’t dared hope. Hadn’t believed it possible.

  A shout from behind made her look back. Leif was there, a shadow against the glare of the hall lights. Weapon pointed up, he shouldered open a door, his back to them, eyes on a threat she couldn’t see. He arched forward, taking aim. Fired.

  “C’mon,” Mercy whispered, luring Iskra out into the side courtyard. She hustled to a white, nondescript van.

  Leif jogged to them, yanking open the vehicle door. “You okay?”

  With a nod, Iskra climbed in, still forcing Bisera to keep her head down. The others filled in around her. Leif last. He tugged the door closed.

  “Iskra!” Hristoff roared from the front stoop, aiming a gun at the van as they careened around the house.

  She sucked in a breath, tucking her chin against Bisera’s hair.

  But then Hristoff tripped and tumbled to the ground. And didn’t get up.

  “What . . . ?”

  “A little Devine intervention,” Lawe murmured as the van tore down the long drive and barreled to safety.

  Epilogue

  UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, ITALY

  The team had holed up at a safehouse. Eaten. Rested. Showered. Caught up on badly needed sleep. Iskra was in the back room with her sleeping daughter. Leif and the others were talking with Cell, who’d brought supplies and bad news.

  “What we know is that, despite the blow we delivered to ArC, they aren’t slowing down. We might’ve destroyed the devices, but the fear they unleashed and the damage they did were enough to force local governments to lend at least one ear to Botha. They’re determined to bring about Armageddon and establish their caliphate.”

  “Bring about Armageddon,” Culver snorted. “That is some messed-up thinking, there.”

  “They don’t believe the Christian Bible, but they do believe in the End Times. So, to them, if they can set up this caliphate, they prove the Bible wrong.” Cell shrugged. “But I’ve been going over the scroll, working overtime to piece together the corrupted pieces.”

  “Any luck?” Leif asked.

  “Not really.” Cell sighed. “And while we’d like to say we have some downtime before the next war, I’d be lying.”

  Leif pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Give it to us.”

  “Has anyone heard of the Neiothen?”

  “They’re just legend, myth,” Lawe countered.

  “What legend?” Saito asked.

  “A story conjured on the backs of vets who returned from Afghanistan and Iraq changed.” Lawe scoffed. “Congress tried to accuse the DoD of experimental procedures. It all turned out to be a hoax.”

  “It’s not a hoax.” Wrapped in the shadows of the darkened hallway that led to the bedrooms, Iskra hugged herself. “I’ve been looking for my brother for over ten years. He was part of a black ops super-army.”

  “Super-army.” Leif lifted his chin, recalling when she’d brought that up at the facility. He sat forward. “You said the Pearl of the Antilles is in the book.”

  She nodded.

  “And that it was the location of a super-army.”

  Another nod. “That is what I was told. I have been unable to find proof of that, which is why I so wanted to find that book. Vasily was a language expert, and he deciphered it. He said the super-army was mentioned there.”

  “What’re you thinking, Usurper?” Cell asked.

  Leif frowned, then shook it off. Sat back, tapping a pen against the table. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. But a super-army . . .” Why did that word feel like the electrical charges of the dome? “How do you know your brother was with them if he was MIA?”

  “A friend told me to find the book, that it would help me find Mitre.” She hunched her shoulders. “When I found it, Vasily verified they are mentioned in the scroll.”

  “But they’re not,” Cell said, confused. “Not as far as we’ve been able to translate or decipher—which is why I’m here. In that other section Harden and I were able to piece back together—and granted, it’s a bit messy because the level of corruption was high”—Cell pointed to the screen—“there’s a mention in the fourth war John wrote about. Let me find it. Here.” He nodded to his screen. “Actually, we weren’t sure if it was a fourth war or part of another. A chunk is too corrupted to tell.”

  “Yeah. Corrupted.” Leif waved his hand in circles. “Tell us.”

  “Okay, here goes. ‘. . . garbed in authority lost their lives, breath snuffed like lamps doused. Rage in the right hand, vengeance in the left, there was naught but blood upon the lands. Kingdoms shifted. Countries collapsed. Chaos seized and reigned in answer to the summons of the enemies of kings. Upon those from below is marked the quest that tethers their soul in darkness . . .’”

  “If that’s not ominous, I don’t know what is,” Mercy said.

  “This sounds like some twisted Humpty Dumpty,” Culver said. “I mean, are we seriously going to try to stop another war that hasn’t happened—one involving kingdoms? Not sure I’m ready to get burned again.”

  “So, the next war,” Leif said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “is kings falling.”

  Ronie Kendig is the bestselling, award-winning author of over twenty novels. She grew up an Army brat, and now she and her hunky hero are adventuring on the East Coast with their grown children, a retired military working dog, VVolt N629, and Benning the Stealth Golden. Ronie’s degree in psychology has helped her pen novels with intense, raw characters. Visit Ronie online at www.roniekendig.com.

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Books by Ronie Kendig

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  PART ONE 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  PART TWO 18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Pages

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