Read The Einstein Pursuit Online
Authors: Chris Kuzneski
The Einstein Pursuit
Chris Kuzneski
Copyright © 2013 Chris Kuzneski, Inc.
The right of Chris Kuzneski to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
First published as an Ebook by
Headline Publishing Group in 2013
All characters in this publication – other than the obvious historical characters – are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN: 978 0 7553 8654 3
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
Table of Contents
Chris Kuzneski is the international bestselling author of numerous thrillers including SIGN OF THE CROSS and THE DEATH RELIC, featuring the series characters Payne and Jones. He is also the author of THE HUNTERS, the first in a new electrifying series. Chris’s thrillers have been translated into more than twenty languages and are sold in more than forty countries. Chris grew up in Pennsylvania but currently lives on the Gulf Coast of Florida. To learn more, please visit his website:
www.chriskuzneski.com
Payne & Jones Series
The Plantation
Sign of the Cross
Sword of God
The Lost Throne
The Prophecy
The Secret Crown
The Death Relic
The Einstein Pursuit
The Hunters Series
The Hunters
A lab destroyed.
An explosion in Stockholm claims the lives of an elite collection of scientists. Evidence suggests the blast was designed to eliminate all traces of their research. It’s up to Interpol director Nick Dial to uncover the truth about the lab and the attack.
A scientist on the run.
When Dr Mattias Sahlberg learns of the incident, he knows his life is at risk. He turns to the only men he can trust: ex-Special Forces operatives Jonathon Payne and David Jones. Together, they must save Sahlberg from the unknown forces that want him dead.
A miraculous discovery.
As Dial’s case intertwines with Sahlberg’s past, Payne and Jones uncover hidden truths and secret agendas involving the world’s greatest minds. But there are some who are desperate to keep such radical advances in the dark and will stop at nothing to have their way.
The new adrenaline-charged Payne & Jones adventure from the international bestseller.
High-octane action. Brilliant characters. Classic Kuzneski.
It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes a lot more than that to publish a book – especially when the person writing the book is the village idiot. (I figured I’d make the joke before Payne & Jones had a chance.)
Anyway, here are some of the people I’d like to thank:
Scott Miller, Claire Roberts, Robert Gottlieb, Stephanie Hoover, and the whole gang at Trident Media. They sold this project before it was even written.
Ian Harper, my longtime friend/editor/consigliere. He reads my words before anyone else – and then reads them again and again until they’re perfect.
Vicki Mellor, Emily Griffin, Jo Liddiard, Jane Morpeth, and everyone at Headline/Hachette UK. They took my story and turned it into a book. And then they printed, like, a million copies and shipped them all over the world.
All the fans, librarians, booksellers, and critics who have enjoyed my thrillers and have recommended them to others. If you keep reading them, I’ll keep writing them.
And last but not least, my loving family – because they are the ones who have put up with me the longest.
Present Day
Monday,
22
July
Stockholm, Sweden
The lab was packed with many of the brightest minds in their field, all focused on a secret project that would change mankind for ever.
In a matter of seconds, they would all be dead.
Of course, none of them knew why they had been called to the facility in the middle of the night. Most had assumed a major breakthrough had occurred, and they had been brought in for an historic announcement that simply could not wait until morning.
Instead, they had been summoned to their slaughter.
The assault had started hours earlier, long before the researchers were misled. Guards had been killed. Locks had been breached. Specimens had been located and stolen. All had been done with a surgical precision the scientists might have appreciated under different circumstances – circumstances that wouldn’t lead to their deaths.
Dr Stephanie Albright was the last to arrive at the sprawling warehouse. Not because she was running late, but because she had the furthest to drive and was on the verge of exhaustion. Over the past few months she had averaged less than four hours’ sleep per day, a figure that included the naps she took when she was on the verge of passing out in the lab. But she never complained. Neither did the others. They knew how important their project was, and they were willing to forgo food and sleep if it meant reaching their goal a little sooner.
Tonight, they would give up more than that.
They would sacrifice their lives.
Albright rushed into the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor. She was so lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the vacant guard station. And the blank security monitors. And all the other things that weren’t quite right. Most importantly, she overlooked the man in the boat who had watched her every move from the calm waters of Riddarfjärden Bay.
He had waited nearly twenty minutes for her arrival.
It was time to finish the job.
His detonator included a state-of-the-art transmitter. It was capable of igniting multiple devices from up to a thousand meters away. Explosives had been placed throughout the warehouse near load-bearing walls and columns. His goal was to collapse the floors, one after another, with no time for escape. A smoldering coffin of steel and concrete for those trapped inside.
The assassin smiled at the thought.
He had killed many times before, but never so many at once.
This would be his masterpiece.
With the touch of a button, the charges erupted with so much force, he felt it in the bay. Chunks of stone and shards of glass filled the air before crashing to the earth like hail. Columns cracked and walls crumbled as the warehouse screamed in pain. Amplified by the water, the deafening roar forced him to cover his ears, but he refused to cover his eyes.
The show was just getting started.
Acetone is commonly used in laboratories around the world to clean scientific instruments. Most of the time it is stored in polyethylene plastic containers, but this particular lab was equipped with a customized delivery system that would pump the acetone throughout the building to a multitude of cleaning stations. This set-up required large drums of acetone to be housed in the upper floors of the building.
The assassin knew this and used it to his advantage.
To cover his tracks and to prevent survivors, he had rigged the barrels of acetone to rupture from the initial force of the blast. The flammable liquid rained down on the destruction below. Within seconds, the fumes ignited and a flash fire occurred. Flames swept through the warehouse like a blistering flood, killing everyone in its wake. The heat from the blaze was so intense that bodies and evidence literally melted.
Like a crime-scene crematorium.
On most jobs, he preferred to work alone. But that wasn’t the case tonight. This project was far too complex for a single cleaner, even someone with his experience. To pull it off, he needed the help of a local team – men to do the lifting, and the drilling, and the grunt work.
Men to do the things he didn’t have time to do.
Men who were expendable.
He had thanked them for their service with gunfire.
Then he had left them to burn with everyone else.
Interpol Headquarters
Lyon, France
Nick Dial was miserable. Absolutely miserable.
He hated his office. And his desk. And the stacks of paperwork on his desk. He hated going to sleep after midnight and waking up before dawn. He hated the brown gruel the locals called coffee and the miniature mugs they served it in. Worst of all, he hated wasting his days in meetings instead of doing what he did best: finding clues and catching killers.
He was a cop at heart, not an executive.