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Back Vortex Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. Epilogue
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Catherine Coulter
  61. About the Publisher

An older cop came by, pulled them to their feet, and herded them back toward their dorm. Mia said over and over, “Please, Officer, I have to go back. I have to find Serena, she might still be in there. I have to—”

The cop said in a father’s voice, “We’ll get in there as soon as we can and find her, don’t worry. The best thing you can do to help us is get yourselves to bed. It might be smart not to do anything like this again, you think?”

There were no casualties from the frat fire, but the cops couldn’t find Serena. No one could find Serena. She was simply gone.

3

Olivia

Balad Military Hospital

Balad, Iraq

Near the Tigris River

Present, seven years later

Her name was Olivia and she was alive. She could feel her chest rhythmically lift and fall, the quiet pull of her own breath. She didn’t know where she was, but it didn’t seem important. She felt cradled in a thick heavy thick fog that seemed to breathe with her. She knew there was something beyond the fog; she heard disembodied voices speaking above her, and her name. She saw jumbled images, some blurred, some stark, faces flashing by, set and hard, and movement, so much movement. She didn’t resist them, she wanted to absorb each of them, so she let them settle in and roll like a home movie on a scratchy old projector.

She was with her team in Sumar, Iran, a city devastated in an Iraqi chemical attack many years before, desolate still. The few people she saw looked at them with apathy, even though the team was heavily armed. There were four of them, all wearing dark brown fatigues and caps, assault rifles strapped across their backs, magazines X’ed across their chests like banditos, grenades, Semtex, and timers strapped to their waists. She saw three canteens of water hanging from her belt, a sat phone snug in her breast pocket. She knew there were satellites overhead, watching them, always watching.

The film rolled on, jerky, starting and stalling, and there was no sound, only harsh images of a bleak plateau with the Zagros Mountains beyond, overwhelming with their stark, jagged outcrops of rocks spearing into the sky. Her teammates were talking but she couldn’t hear them, couldn’t remember what they’d said.