Forest Park: A Zombie Novel by Jamie Marks Read Free Book Online Page B

shut them when his direct line to Harris began to ring. Ambrose answered the phone. “I’ll come right up,” he said.
     
    Harris didn’t move as Ambrose entered the room. “I have an update for you,” Ambrose said.
    “A friend of mine in the NSA contacted me earlier about the incident in Georgia; he told me a name, one that you might be interested in.”
    Harris didn’t answer him.
    “General Shapinkov. He was in Batumi without authorization, and is presumed dead.”
    It was a while before Harris decided to answer. “Aleksandr was a great man and a good friend. The last time I spoke to him was during a conference in Israel. You attended, but I don’t believe you had the good luck to meet him. It was during that conference that I presented him with a gift, a Desert Eagle; a simple gesture for all the good will he has shown over the many years.” Harris turned to Ambrose. “He loved his guns; all Russians do. He told me he felt like John Wayne with it hanging off his hip.” Harris chuckled to himself. “He was good man. If Aleksandr was in Georgia, he would have been there for a reason. He was a slippery son-of-a-bitch, so maybe it’s best you leave this one to me.”
    “I’m happy to continue to ---” Ambrose started when Harris’s phone suddenly began to ring.
    “Leave it to me,” Harris said before he answered the phone. “Gibson, let me guess what this is about.”
    Ambrose walked out of Harris’s office suspicious and determined to find out all he could.
     
     
     
     
    ISTANBUL
    SULTANAHMET NEIGHBORHOOD
    EMINÖNÜ DISTRICT
     
    Istanbul was a city balancing on the edge of two worlds, linked by the Bosporus, the natural border between Europe and Asia.
    The ancient metropolis, originally founded by Greek colonists, had eventually become the capital of the Eastern Roman Emperors Nova Roma. The city had a perpetually turbulent history, just like the river that passed through it. Change had never been a stranger, and agents of change were never far from her heart.
     
    The sun beat down on Sergei’s exposed head. He could feel it penetrating his skull from the outside- in, as he sat quietly with his legs crossed. He hadn’t been sleeping well; he’d been having dreams --- strange dreams, dreams he couldn’t shake.
    Since arriving in Istanbul, it had been one vodka after another, in celebration and commiseration. However, drinking was not the sole reason for him being there, he was there to do a deal. That was why he found himself sitting hung-over and alone in a small park in between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia.
    God, I’m hungry, he thought, as an old humpbacked sweetbread seller wandered toward him, away from a large group of tourists who were posing for photos across from the Hagia Sophia.
    The man carried his sweet breads in a round wicker basket on his head, jumbled together, one on top of another. The bread looked so inviting and smelled fresh even from a distance. Sergei reached into his pocket and offered the old man some change, a few coins more than a piece of the bread would have cost. The old man snapped up the few extra coins and gave Sergei a generous portion.
    Sergei tore off a chunk of the bread and shoved it into his mouth; it was crunchy on the outside but soft and sweet once he bit into it. After chewing for a while, he reached down between his legs and opened his backpack for a chilled bottle of water. As he took a large mouthful, he closed his eyes.
     
     
     
    THE MEETING
     
    “Sergei, Captain Sergei Bragin? It is a pleasure to meet you.”
    Sergei opened his eyes and tried not to appear startled. He was safe. He was in a public park surrounded by his team who were watching his every move, armed to their teeth and ready to strike if need be.
    The stranger wore a red keffiyeh and a simple white cotton shirt and linen pants, and on his feet were open-toed sandals. Sergei extended his hand and firmly shook the one offered to him.
    “It is a beautiful day to make new