By James Becker
One guy, one girl. One likelihood to reveal the truth.
Angela Lewis and Chris Bronson go back in a high-adrenaline flight throughout Europe in pursuit of an old and world-shattering mystery, chased by way of a band of fearsome assassins.
For millions of years we guarded it. yet now it's been came upon. this is able to be the top — for us; for our enterprise; for the area. you need to break it, and people who have taken it.
An item is came across in a Cairo souk. A marketplace dealer is tortured to dying. A tantalising request for assistance is despatched to British Museum historian Angela Lewis. She and policeman Chris Bronson commute to Egypt, the place they turn into ambitions of a ruthless Masonic inn. merely they've got the main to the key. Their in simple terms challenge is decoding it ahead of their time runs out. every little thing they suspect to be actual is fake. everybody they belief has to be distrusted.
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Additional info for The Lost Testament (Chris Bronson, Book 6)
He pointed past the edge of the umbrella at the eaves of the mansion. If the wind comes too fast from the south, it whistles in the eaves. It can keep you awake nights. The explanation should have quieted her nerves, but it did not. That cry seemed too filled with emotion to be made by something inanimate. Suddenly, she remembered things that she should have asked Richard. Why had he been late? Why did Catherine, the waitress, fear him so? What was this curse that Aunt Cora talked about and which he called a psychiatric problem"?
He was watching her over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee. Unexplainably, she remembered that he had opened her suitcases upon placing them in her room. She had still not been able to decide whether or not he had been snooping, whether such a gesture was only meant as a final courtesy. But this very direct gaze of his seemed to pry at her own eyes, to peel back her brain and seek for secrets. She didn't like that at all. �My room is wonderful, she said. I'm anxious to explore the grounds and do some riding.
Later that night, Cora came to Jenny's room. She was dressed in a lovely yellow lounging robe which contrasted with her dark beauty and her cultured dignity to make both those qualities even more evident. Jenny secretly hoped that, when she was Cora's age, she would look as feminine and sophisticated as her aunt. If I reach her age, she amended. And immediately, she wondered why she always had to have such negative thoughts. �I'd like to talk to you about Freya, Cora Brucker said. She sat on the edge of the bed.