Mack Bolan: Storm Front [antikvár]

PROLOGUE Sedona, Arizona Winston Grail's war against the United States government began in a fortresslike jewelry store on Madison Avenue. He was two thousand miles away when it happened, performing a ritual chant with a group of white-robed, blond-haired true seekers who'd come to his Sedona, Arizona, retreat for a week of spiritual and physical enlightenment. It was two o'clock in the afternoon in Sedona when he led the latest disciples of his Trans Human Evolution Movement through a guided meditation accompanied by music of the spheres. Streams of light prismed through the stained-glass windows of the desert chapel, illuminating the long blond hair that fell to his shoulders, the strong, angular profile and the piercing eyes that looked from face to face, a warrior in monk's clothing taking their measure. Some looked away. Others locked on to the unyielding gaze of this man who was part Viking, part vicar, hoping to see what he could see. There was a faraway look in his cobalt-blue eyes, but it had noth-