Chapters (95)
- Cover
- Also by
- About the author
- Fortress
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- Chapter 88
- Epilogue
- Extract from State of Emergency
- Glossary
The shot slammed into the cabinet door he had just been leaning against, narrowly missing his shoulder. A cloud of wood chippings erupted and scattered over Jefferson’s body. No more negotiation. Tom’s reflexes took over and his shot burst a hole in Kyle’s forehead as he collapsed in a heap in the doorway.
Tom didn’t move for several seconds, struggling to absorb what had just happened. He had killed a man who had once saved his life. But he had been left with no choice. Whatever Kyle had signed up for, it didn’t take account of friendship. The only other sound apart from his heaving chest was the chorus of cicadas outside. He reached forward, and pulled Kyle’s corpse further into the trailer.
Mullah Zuabi – who the fuck was he? How did he fit into Oryxis’s agenda? Too many questions were mounting up.
Tom knew he needed to get the hell out of there before anyone came looking, but the opportunity to search the place for more information about what Jefferson was up to was too good to pass up. He reached over Kyle and closed the door. Then he pulled him over to the seating area and folded him as best he could under the table. He wouldn’t be entirely hidden but was at least less obvious if someone were to peer in. Then he pulled up the blinds to let a little more light in. He ducked while a pick-up rolled past, blaring Johnny Cash, a couple of dogs perched on the deck, then began his search.
He didn’t have much time. Eventually someone would notice that Kyle hadn’t shown up, and as for Jefferson, even neo-Nazis looked out for their own. Luckily, since he was definitely a minimalist in the furnishings department, there were very few places to look. On the table was a yellow legal notebook. He flipped it open and read the large, childlike handwriting.
Today, according to the latest U.S. Census – only 23% of the American population under the age of 18 is WHITE. Already, four U.S. states are MAJORITY NON-WHITE, and 10% of all counties in America are MAJORITY NON-WHITE. World-wide, white women of child-bearing age comprise only 3% of the earth's population. Do these FACTS disturb you . . .?