Queen shook her head and stepped back. “Sorry, kid.”
Fiona stepped to King’s bed and climbed up into it. Laying next to King, her wiry body dressed in pink sweatpants and a Powerpuff Girls T-shirt, Fiona looked more fragile than ever. But they all knew she was strong. She had proven that when she had faced down a one-hundred-foot-tall golem and saved all their lives.
“Remember, he can hear what we’re saying,” Fiona said. She turned to King’s face and said, “I love you, Dad.” She snuggled into him and felt a hand on her back, squeezing her tight.
She opened her eyes slowly as the realization of whose hand was holding her set in. George Pierce stood on the other side of the bed, his face smiling, his eyes wet. Then King’s other arm reached up and wrapped around her. She buried her face into his chest with a sob.
King was alive.
Her father was alive.
King opened his eyes. He saw Pierce first and grinned. “I heard what you said. Alexander won’t be happy if he finds out.”
Pierce shrugged. “What’s he gonna do?”
King surveyed the room, seeing Knight and Queen. Then he looked over at Bishop and eyed his mass of bandages. “No more regeneration?”
“No more regen,” Bishop said with a smile. “It’s gone.”
“And Rook?” King asked, looking at Queen.
“No word,” she said with a frown.
As he ran his fingers through Fiona’s hair, he asked her, “You’re okay?”
She just squeezed him in response.
“The docs gave her a clean bill of health this morning,” Knight said.
King’s eyes drifted around the room again, looking beyond the group. “Where are my parents? Do they know?”
“We haven’t been able to reach them,” Knight said.
As egocentric as it was, King knew his parents would be waiting by the phone for news. His mother always did when she knew he was deployed. And with them knowing exactly what he was up against and who he was fighting for, she would have—
A burst of panic made King feel queasy. He sat up straight. “Do I have any clothes?”
Fiona grinned. “I made them bring some. Just in case.” She pointed to the dresser across from the bed. On top sat his signature jeans and black Elvis T-shirt. He began to get out of bed.
“What are you doing?” Queen asked. “You just came out of a coma.”
King stood, steady, tall, and healthy. “Whatever he gave me has me back to normal. A little better than normal, actually, and I need to leave.”
King lifted his leg and unbuckled the liquid cast. After it fell to the floor, he wiggled his ankle. The apple seed was like a single dose of regeneration. He stood and bounced his weight on his legs. Never better.
“Where are you going?” Pierce asked.
“It’s likely there are other Ridley golems out there. If they know about my parents—”
He didn’t have to finish. Queen stepped out of his way. “I’m coming.”
“Me, too,” Knight said.
King turned to Pierce as he took his clothes to the bathroom. He motioned to Fiona and then to Bishop. “Keep an eye on them.”
Thirty seconds later, King was dressed, leaving the hospital and a string of stunned doctors and nurses behind him.
Twenty minutes later, Knight pulled his car into the parking lot of the hotel in which King’s parents had been hidden away. He pulled into a space and turned off the car. “They’re in two-twenty.”
Knight and Queen took out their sidearms and chambered rounds. “Have an extra?” King asked.
“Glove compartment.”
King opened it and found a Sig Sauer.
They exited the car and vaulted up the stairs to the second floor. King quickly led the way to room two-twenty. He paused outside the door, letting Knight and Queen take positions on the other side, just in case.
King knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again. Harder. Followed by, “Mom. Dad. It’s Jack.”
He tried the doorknob and found it locked.
“I’ll do it,” Queen whispered. She stood across from the door and slammed it with her foot. Wood shattered from the powerful blow and the door swung inward.
King moved in. Weapon raised. Prepared for anything.
Except what he found.
There were two queen-sized beds in the room. On each lay a blood-soaked human body.
King launched forward and flipped over the nearest body, dead for days. But the man was not one of his parents. Nor was the other body. Both men held weapons. And both had been shot through the head. King remembered the story his mother had told him, about shooting the man who had come for them. It now seemed all the more believable.
But the fact that these men were dead didn’t supply any hope. There was no way to know how many assailants there had been. And his parents were gone, perhaps dead, dying, or on the run.
King and Queen checked the bodies for identification, Knight searched the bathroom.
As Queen rifled through the dead man’s pockets, she spotted a necklace poking out from under one of the beds. She picked it up and looked if over—a silver chain and cross. The cross design was simple and held a small black stone in the middle.
King saw it dangling. His eyes widened as he reached out for the necklace.
She handed it to him. “Recognize it?”
“Yeah,” King said. “It was Julie’s.”
As he looked the necklace over, memories of it around his sister’s neck came back to him. It had been a gift from their father. After she died in the plane crash, his mother wore it. Every day. He’d never seen her take it off. But here it was, on the floor.
King unclipped the chain, wrapped it around his neck, and refastened it. With the necklace hidden beneath his shirt, he turned to Queen. “Call it in.”
Queen nodded, switched on her cell, and left the room.
“King,” Knight called from the bathroom. “Check this out.”
The bathroom looked normal until Knight stepped to the side, revealing the sink. A board had been placed atop the basin, serving as a workspace. The makeshift countertop held several small electronic components, spools of impossibly thin wires, miniature microchips, a magnifying glass, soldering tools, and pill-sized capsules. Knight picked up one of the completed devices and handed it to King.
A mixture of confusion, anger, and sadness filled King as he looked at the tiny device that perfectly matched the tracking device he’d found hidden in his pocket. His chest ached as the memory of his last good-bye with his parents returned. His mother’s firm embrace. The slow slide of her hand against his side as they separated.
His mother had bugged him.
Betrayed him.
“What do you think?” Knight asked.
It pained him to say it, but he couldn’t deny the evidence. “My parents are still Russian spies, and they almost got us killed.”
As his mind raced to put together any missing pieces, anything he’d missed, something else nagged at him. Some other unanswered question. Then he remembered. Turning to Knight, he asked, “What happened to Ridley?”
EPILOGUE
Somewhere
THE TEN-FOOT-SQUARE CELL was empty, save for a single chair and its occupant, a prisoner, and his interrogator. The man in the chair was gagged—jaw spread wide holding a red ball gag. He was strapped to the chair around the chest and waist. There was no need to bind his arms and legs because he had neither.
His interrogator walked around him in lazy circles. “This can end whenever you want it to.”
The man’s shouted reply was muffled and distorted, but the tone was defiant.
The interrogator chuckled and jabbed a finger into the open wound where the man’s shoulder should have been.
The man wailed in horrible pain as the interrogator twisted his finger deeper into the flesh until it struck the man’s rib cage.
“Whenever you want it to end…”
; A sucking pop filled the air as the finger was quickly extracted from the meat.
The man screamed again.
“You’re probably wondering how this is possible?”
The man made no reply other than his heavy breathing.
“The Hydra can’t regenerate without a sufficient supply of water, which it can leach from the air itself on a humid day. You were given enough water for your torso to regenerate, but without more, you will remain a quadruple amputee. The pain you’re feeling is your dry cells screaming out for fluid. You can’t even bleed. As you’ve probably noticed, the air in this cell is not only hot, but also very dry. Your wounds will remain open indefinitely. Your bones will not heal. Your mind will not rest. The pain will never dull.”
The interrogator crouched before the legless torso, looking at the fragment of femur protruding from the man’s partially formed thigh. He grasped the bone with two fingers and wiggled it.
The prisoner’s breathing sped up.
“You will tell me everything about the language of God.”
The interrogator quickly slid his finger inside the bone, pushing hard, compressing the marrow.
A fit of spasms shook the prisoner. His voice became a high-pitched shriek. But when the finger was removed, his face twisted with rage. He shouted a string of muffled curses.
The interrogator simply smiled and stood. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the arms of the chair. He looked the prisoner in the eyes. “Perhaps you haven’t fully grasped the situation, Mr. Ridley. I am not who you believe me to be. I am not who your enemies believe me to be. And I can do this until the end of time, can you?”
ALSO BY JEREMY ROBINSON
The Didymus Contingency
Raising the Past
Beneath
Antarktos Rising
Kronos
Pulse
Instinct
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
THRESHOLD. Copyright © 2011 by Jeremy Robinson. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.stmartins.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Robinson, Jeremy, 1974–
Threshold : a Jack Sigler thriller / Jeremy Robinson. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-312-54030-2
1. Terrorism—Prevention—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3618.O3268T47 2011
813'.6—dc22
2010042215
First Edition: April 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-6833-1
First Thomas Dunne Books eBook Edition: March 2011
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraphs
Prologue
Lost
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Seek
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Found
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Epilogue
Also by Jeremy Robinson
Copyright
Threshold Page 39