Spore

by Dave Eberhart

Copyright ©2004
ISBN: 0-87714-901-1 eBook edition
ISBN: 0-87714-328-5 PB edition

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

THE AUTHOR

A native of Washington, DC, Dave Eberhart earned a Journalism degree from the American University. Before getting underway in a writing career, however, he elected to serve as an officer in the United States Marine Corps.

After three years as a line officer, he was selected for the Funded Excess Leave Law Program, graduating from the University of San Diego School of Law.

Following a career as a trial lawyer, both in and out of the military, Mr. Eberhart returned to writing, and during a five year expatriate period penned five novels while repeating the travels of author F. Scott Fitzgerald through Europe.

After a stint as an editor with APB News in New York City, he became the veterans' affairs editor and later the news editor of the domestic edition Stars and Stripes, the nation's oldest military newspaper.

Presently, he is a writer and editor for NewsMax.com magazine and Web site.

After three years as a line officer, he was selected for the Funded Excess Leave Law Program, graduating from the University of San Diego School of Law.

Presently, he is a writer and editor for NewsMax.com magazine and Web site.

THE BOOK

Following clues that lead them around the world, a pair of investigators traces a mysterious ships' cargo to the bottom of the world. Bringing with them high-level biohazard facilities, scientists from the evil Friedman Enterprises have set up camp on the ice of the Antarctic Peninsula. They are tampering with something so dangerous and provocative that an arsenal of terrible weapons protects it.

EXCERPT

As he entered the inner chamber, Felton found that he was unconsciously holding his breath. Bulky in his two protective suits, he shuffled toward a cabinet twenty feet away. The metal cabinet was the only fixture in the room.

Testing the latch, he found that the cabinet was not locked. Again came the nettlesome feeling that it was all too easy. The double doors swung open easily, revealing racks of sealed glass tubes containing a black substance. Removing one, he held it in front of the eyepieces of his mask and dipped it one way then another. It appeared to contain fine powder. Clutching the tube to his breast, he felt a surge of elation and power. He began filling his nylon bag with the tubes.

After he had emptied the cabinet, he turned to retreat to the hatchway.

He tasted something funny in his mouth-metallic and bitter. Then without warning, a powerful fist of pain squeezed at the base of his neck. At the same instant, a strident alarm went off throughout the complex. Panicking, he dashed like a madman through the exit. Not bothering to close the hatch behind him, he stumbled to the second sealed door and spun the wheel wildly.

He pushed opened the heavy door and reeled into the corridor. Running toward him were two security men dressed in black uniforms. He watched fascinated as the pair hit an invisible wall. Their steps became exaggerated and loose, like puppets dancing on strings. Their knees pumped in slow motion as if they were submerged to the waist in molasses. In mid-stride they collapsed to the floor, limbs quivering and jerking as wild electric signals sent every muscle in their bodies into spasm.

Felton ran over the first stricken men. Blind with fear he somehow found his way outside and to his car. In a whirl of flying hands and elbows, he tore off his mask, bio-suit and chemical suit, leaving them strewn by the car. Carefully placing the bag on the passenger seat, he jumped

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