Callsign: Bishop - Book 1 (an Erik Somers - Chess Team Novella) (Jack Sigler Thrillers)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
An Iranian terrorist cell has gotten their hands on weaponized Ergot-B-a compound that causes violent hysteria, madness and death within 24 hours-and plan to unleash the weapon on major cities around the world. Successful deployment would begin a bloodbath, as those exposed would kill everyone they encountered before succumbing to the compound's lethal effects. Erik Somers-Callsign: Bishop, is called in to investigate, but his first discovery shocks him to the core. Dawoud Abbasi, the terrorist leader planning to unleash Ergot-B, is his biological father. Bishop, along with an undercover Delta operator known as Callsign: Joker, race across the unforgiving Iranian desert in search of the Ergot-B. Seeking answers, both professional and personal, Bishop must fight against a private securtiy force, Iranian Special Forces and men driven mad by Ergot-B. With the life of his biological mother in the balance, and countless more people in cities around the world, Bishop must call on all his strength to not only survive, but also stop the man revealed as his father-even if that means killing him.
Bishop watched CJ dart and honk his way through Tehran traffic until they left the city limits, then he steered the car onto Freeway 7. “Are we going to Qom?” Bishop asked, referring to the large city about a hundred miles south of Tehran. “No, just heading south. Our plane is waiting for us in a hangar about 20 minutes outside of Tehran.” “You’ve arranged it already?” “I knew you’d be coming.” “Because of my parents?” The word felt strange on his tongue, like trying to pick up a quarter
jars of every shape and size cluttered the shelves, although many were empty or broken. Some of the documents had been ripped from the wall, and more of the brown stains spotted the room. One of them, in the shape of a hand, sent a chill up his spine. He realized then what the brown stains were: blood. He wondered again what had happened to the people who built the place. But Muhaddar did not seem to notice any of it. His attention was fixed on a large white refrigerator in the middle of the far
And from the sheer quantity of fluid the tanks could hold, it appeared Dawoud meant to poison the entire world. Across the room, on a small metal table, sat Bishop’s things. His Sig Sauer pistol, extra clips, knife and backpack. The bottle of water was just visible under the flap, but the knife would have been the most useful. The straps felt like thick plastic zip ties—the kind used by police to secure prisoners—but he couldn’t see them. Most likely they would be too strong to snap. CJ would
captors and launched himself at Dawoud. Voices filled the chamber as four men swore in Persian. Dawoud had just enough time to turn and fire before both of them fell into a heap on the floor. “Anwar!” Faiza screamed. Bishop watched as the limp body of his biological father fell to the ground. He saw the splotch of blood begin to pool under the man’s chest, and he watched as Dawoud struggled to push the dead weight off of him. As he struggled, Bishop saw Dawoud’s face, glaring at him. Bishop’s
wonder Dawoud knew the truth right away. He turned to look at his mother, Faiza Abbasi, who stood about ten feet away with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Bishop’s own shoulder had been cleaned and bandaged, and his left arm hung in a sling. The woman in front of him looked exactly like the picture. Pretty, in an older woman sort of way. Her dark hair streaked with gray. The only real difference was her outfit. Instead of her black habib, Bishop noticed, Faiza was dressed in blue jeans,