Book two of Agamemnon Frost
Edgar Mason is ready to embark upon his new life at Agamemnon Frost’s side. But all is not perfect. His Martian overlord, Pandarus, has implanted a dark voice in his mind, a voice that urges betrayal. And though Mason can keep close to Frost, there’s little room for romance under the watchful gaze of the engineers from Station X.
That changes when Mason and Frost reopen their investigation into their old enemy’s whereabouts. Posing as double agents and investigating cryptic rumors of “hollow ships,” they find him impersonating a London banker and worm their way into his confidence.
But their success brings them trouble in spades. Pandarus takes them into the belly of his ships, where he plans to transfigure them into mindless automata. And with Earth on the brink of invasion, Frost’s old flame Theodora reappearing and Pandarus’s brainwashing growing more effective, Mason and Frost will find their bond tested as never before.
See how it all began in Agamemnon Frost and the House of Death.
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Nestor sank back into his chair, the wood and leather groaning under his weight. “We’ve been lucky. Damned lucky.” He wiped a hand over his face, and the strain showed through deep lines and sagging skin. The strain of trying to fight an impossibly powerful enemy. “Chance brought Achilles to me. And capturing the equipment from Holt Hall? More luck than we’ve had in years.”
Frost tutted and pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his dressing gown. He lifted his chin. “Consummate skill, Nestor. Bolstered by the bravery of the English soldier.”
The older man gave a rough laugh. “Of course.”
Frost frowned at the glass screen. “Hollow ships. That’s not a phrase connected to the aeolipile engines. It suggests something bigger than we’ve seen.”
Nestor briefly shut his eyes, and the low mutters breaking from him sounded very much like curses. “We’re insects pricking a rousing dragon. Pandarus has every advantage. Every single one. Weapons unlike any other. Unlike anything man could imagine. We can name only a few of his converted warriors. And Pandarus himself could be anyone. He could stand in this very room, in those unholy shells he creates, and I wouldn’t know him.” He stared at the screen and a vein throbbed in his temple. “But…we need to find these ships. Destroy them. Your charge is to track down Pandarus and stop him. If you don’t, England, the empire, the world will fall.”
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