By Tim Kring, Dale Peck
A brand new quality of mystery set on the collision of ’60s counterculture and the increase of darkish forces in global govt. Heroes writer Tim Kring injects heritage with a supernatural, hallucinogenic what-if. Set within the crucible of the Sixties, Shift is the tale of Chandler Forrestal, a guy whose lifestyles is modified ceaselessly whilst he's unwittingly dragged right into a CIA mind-control test. After being given an important dose of LSD, Chandler develops a daunting array of psychological powers. along with his one-in-a-billion mind chemistry, Chandler’s heightened notion uncovers a plot to assassinate President Kennedy. Propelled to avoid the conspiracy of assassination and anarchy, Chandler turns into a objective for lethal forces out and in of the govt. and is pursued throughout a simmering panorama peopled through rogue CIA brokers, Cuban killers, Mafia madmen, and ex-Nazi scientists…all the whereas haunted by means of a stunning girl together with her personal scandalous previous to purge, her personal ranking to settle. Chased throughout the USA, will Chandler have the ability to harness his “shift” and rewrite history? Combining the nonstop sort of Ludlum with the sinister, tangled conspiracies of DeLillo and Dick, and that includes cameos from Lee Harvey Oswald to Timothy Leary to J. Edgar Hoover, Shift is a mystery bound to be equivalent components heart-stopping and thought-provoking.
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Extra info for Shift
Example text
Chandler shrugged. ” Naz made air quotes, although it seemed a fairly ridiculous gesture, given the context. “In my family we didn’t call it politics. We called it service. ” Naz laughed. ” Before Naz could ask him what he meant, he opened the topmost book on the stack in front of him. ” Naz squinted. Not because the image was hard to see, but because it was hard to believe. It showed the motel room—the motel bed, to be precise, on which lay the apparently naked bodies of Chandler and Naz, although most of their flesh was covered by the blanket.
He’d seen the dog but not the sack of meat. He leveled his gun. Melchior was afraid he was going to shoot her. He was five feet behind the guard. He felt the branch beneath the thin sole of his sandal even as it snapped. The guard whirled, which actually made Melchior’s task easier. He aimed his blade for the throat, felt the cartilage of the man’s larynx resist a moment, then the steel pushed through soft tissue until it lodged against the cervical vertebrae. The guard opened his mouth but only blood came out, along with a last wet puff of smoke.
The guard opened his mouth but only blood came out, along with a last wet puff of smoke. Melchior separated the man’s spasming fingers from the stock of his weapon with his right hand even as his left wrapped around the man’s shoulders and, gently, as if he were saving a drunken buddy from a bad fall, eased the guard to the ground. He was still alive when Melchior leaned his head forward to ease the rifle strap around his neck, but he was dead when Melchior set his head back on the ground. As he stood up, he noticed that the bitch was staring at him intently.