had taken off the moment the Pantheon had returned with the research and flown through the night to report.
When the large walnut doors opened, Dr. Wells headed inside. The office was an ode to minimalist design with only a small seating area composed of a collection of sleek Scandinavian furniture and a long streamlined desk. The floors were a dark hardwood and floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall.
Standing at one of the windows was a muscular man in a grey European suit. The white in his salt-and-pepper hair shined as the morning sun rose in the distance. He casually carried a crystal, lowball tumbler filled with a deep amber liquid in his hand as he looked pensively on the bustling city below.
“Good morning, Dr. Wells,” the man said in a strong, deep voice. He turned from the window and walked to his desk.
“Good morning to you, Mr. Harper,” Dr. Wells replied. Before continuing, he stood awkwardly on the hardwood, waiting for Drake Harper to sit in his chair and give a signal for him to commence with his report. “We were able to retrieve all the stolen materials for Project Herakles.” Dr. Wells handed Mr. Harper the file he held in his hands. “Samples and all. But there was another breach. Our operatives were ambushed when they entered the compound. They knew we were coming.”
“Who knew of the operation?” Mr. Harper asked.
“Just Verne, myself and the operatives,” he replied. “Given the recent incidents and the sensitivity of this project, I thought it wise to only involve the pertinent parties.”
“Yet still they know of our approach.” Mr. Harper drew a long draft of the amber liquid from his crystal glass. “It would appear, Dr. Wells, that we have a mole in the organization.”
“Yes, it would appear so.” Dr. Wells spoke with trepidation.
“Any idea who it might be?”
“Not at this time. But I’ve already alerted our best Sentry and we should know who the traitor is shortly.”
“Very good, Harold.” Drake Harper rose from his chair and strutted back to the window. As he walked along his desk, he slid the project file across the wood with his hand before picking it up. “And what of the Wicker boy? Have you gotten any closer to determining his limits? We need to know what kind of results we can expect if we are to proceed with Project Herakles.”
“Landon has greatly improved since beginning the Pantheon training regimen, but we have yet to adequately gauge the limits of his anomalous strength.”
“We need to push him harder, Harold. We must understand the full extent of his abilities if we are to replicate them.” Mr. Harper began to pace along the window, sliding the file folder delicately between his fingers.
“And what of his parents?” Dr. Wells asked. “Have we seen any results from them?”
“No. The mother proved to be very uncooperative, so we’ve had to sedate her while the scientists work.”
END OF BOOK ONE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
If you asked me two years ago, I could never have dreamed of coming to this place, and looking back I know it would have been impossible were it not for the love and support of my friends and family and the business acumen of my colleagues. I especially have to acknowledge my parents and siblings, who support me no matter what endeavor I decide to pursue; my friend, Katie Benson, who has been my soundboard and confidant; my friend Jeffrey Mulcock, who’s talked me off many a ledge and has supported me wholeheartedly; Maurice Becnel, who I am sure is tired of hearing about this book; Alex Walford, who encouraged my writing; and Bonnie Garcia, who always knows what to say to cheer me up and seems to expect greatness from me even when I don’t. I also have to thank Pam Langsam, author of the Vegas Dazzle series, who has helped me navigate this crazy world of publishing; and Collin Earl and Chris Snelgrove, authors of the Harmonics series, who have been irreplaceable as I worked through the technical and legal aspects of publishing. Finally, a special thanks to Michael Webber, my illustrator; my early readers, Jessica Turon and Liz Wortley; and to everyone else who has supported me in the process.
Special Preview of Book 2
CHRONICLES OF LANDON WICKER:
THE PRINCES TRAP
CHAPTER ONE
GETTING IN
THE WAY
“No!” Landon struggled to pry open the thick doors of the Nitranos Industries vault with his bare hands. The alarms deafeningly sounded overhead. “Castor and Atalanta are still inside!” he yelled back to the others.
Landon stepped back and tried