Sodium Haze

Jonathan Paxton

Description

Sodium Haze is a tense and alarming thriller set around three independent periods of time. However, it is soon realised that in fact the periods are inter-linked by a disturbing revelation.
DI Jack Mitchell excelled at his job like most things in his life, but, this case was to take him to limits both physically and mentally that he had never envisaged. Many gruesome deaths quickly followed:
It seemed every avenue Jack explored within solving the case was abruptly blocked as though someone was inside his mind and remained one step ahead of him
The story continues in a cat and mouse chase through quickly opening and closing avenues of investigation. Jack recounts memories and realises he is not alone and it is the haunting figure from his past that has re-surfaced and is baiting him.
Sodium Haze explores the undiscovered areas of the mind. The magical and mysterious power of the brain. The very organ that only allows us to logically comprehend certain aspects of our being. The organ that surmises the truth and falsities of life. Increasingly situations develop and mysteries unravel that our brain cannot comprehend logically. We dismiss these situations as crazy and as perhaps a one-off phenomenon. What if we were allowed to believe differently? What if this was to change??

Sujets

• Thrillers
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris UK
• Date de parution: 31 juillet 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669890232
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

SODIUM HAZE
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
JONATHAN PAXTON
 
Copyright © 2023 by Jonathan Paxton.
Library of Congress Control Number:
2023913932
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-9022-5
 
Softcover
978-1-6698-9021-8
 
eBook
978-1-6698-9023-2
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
Rev. date:   07/31/2023
 
 
 
 
 
Xlibris
UK TFN: 0800 0148620 (Toll Free inside the UK)
UK Local: (02) 0369 56328 ([phone] from outside the UK)
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854311
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
......The only thing necessary for the triu mph of evil is for good men to do not hing. .....
Edmund B urke:
 
 
 
 
.....Every exit is an entry to somewhere else....
Tom Stop pard:
CHAPTER 1
SS Headquarters, Berlin, 1700 hrs Jan 14, 1941
The soft brown leather briefcase was slowly raised for all to see and gently placed onto the end of the long, dark mahogany table. The case looked old and worn, with an unswept and faded demeanour. Beige, coarse strands of stitching bulged from each of the distorted and tattered corners. It seemed unsuitable in consideration of the occasion and the prize it held within. There was an air of anticipation in the moments of silence that followed. Five men were sat around the table. Two on each of the vast aspects and one isolated at the far end. It was he who broke the silence as his hand gently grasped the case and pulled it towards him. Dressed in full military splendour for the occasion, Colonel Heinz Reichzig, carefully and with assumed pride, flipped open the two metallic buckles that provided minimal security for the consignment within. He briefly perused the contents with a warm, but anxious smile. The anxiety was the produce of hope. He hoped that this select audience would receive and entrust the contents with the same confidence he showed having first been informed of the developments. He removed the case contents and placed the empty leather sheath down beside his feet.
‘Gentlemen.....This is the solution’, he held aloft a bound manuscript.
The report was around thirty pages of standard administrative paper in total and housed within a scarlet red cover. The cover was stamped in the header and footer with bold black lettering, ‘ STRENG GEHEIM’, providing the enclosed material with the classification of Top Secret.
Reichzig continued,
‘This is the key to our inevitable success in making first Europe and then the rest of the world bow down before our beliefs.....the submission that the Fatherland has the power and resources to govern all walks of life is here...in this document...’, the leaves of paper shook under his words.
‘This document details a major scientific breakthrough that will assist with all our goals….In my eyes this..’ he shook the document once more aloft,
‘…is far more valuable than acquiring more advanced aeroplanes, tanks and artillery directives…this will strengthen the very foundations that our war efforts rely upon.’
Reichzig had spent the best part of two days and a long evening perfecting the speech, which he could see, was successful in obtaining the desired effect of both excitement and transience on the faces of his congregation.
Klaus Berthold, dressed in a long black leather coat familiar with the Gestapo was more restless than most. His beliefs, he figured, were stronger than those of anyone he had come into contact with, barring Der Fuhrer of course, who he had met twice, both on social occasions and both times only a few gratuitous words passed His lips. They were enough though to embody enormous respect and loyalty into His beliefs. So strong a presence that Berthold had remembered the feeling of his first meeting. The stern look, power over all those around him including his highly decorated entourage. Berthold could smell the power as He moved passed him. A strange sickly-sweet odour that he could taste in his throat mixed amongst the smell of leather and body odour. He could only describe it closely as similar to that of death. A smell he would encounter often and become very fond of.
He remembered for that split second when their eyes met, it was like looking into the eyes of a loved one, wanting, longing for a touch, but at the same time feeling exposed and frightened like a cornered deer in the crosshairs of its hunter. He became aroused and uncomfortable and felt as though nature had deserted him. He stared down in hope that his arousal wasn’t visible and tried his hardest to remove the urge ...but could not.
Berthold came from a very strict upbringing. His family attended the church at every spare opportunity. As a child he wasn’t allowed games or even to socialise with other children in case they led him astray. Whilst other children skipped, howled, and screamed in the joys of youth, Berthold was forced to read chapters from the Bible, sing Psalms and learn manners and etiquette. His childhood was a reclusive one spent mostly behind closed doors. He was not naturally intelligent and found most school subjects difficult to grasp, apart from religious studies in which he, for obvious reasons, excelled at. His father had little patience with his inability in the other core subjects. He would stare over Berthold’s shoulder and rasp his knuckles with a metal rule at the slightest grammatical mistake in written language or incorrect solution to a mathematical problem. He was a very sad and forlorn child. His mother would occasionally show him her love whenever she was out of the watchful eye of his father, who believed public affection was unnecessary and depraved. Those moments alone were the one’s which he cherished. He was drilled with the morally correct and the rights and wrongs within the world. Feelings for a person of the opposite sex were allowed upon marriage, however, feelings for a person of the same sex was strictly prohibited, even if it were due to strong friendship. His father certainly would not approve of the feelings he felt at that time, but his father’s wishes had long since depleted since he reached adolescence. The only feelings he had on the subject were one’s of complete hatred for the man that helped bring him into the world.
Although in his later years he had rebelled against his early education, he never recalled feelings of a homosexual nature. The whole issue puzzled him and later that night he would remove his frustration on his personal maid. He was convinced that would quell the confusion that spread through him.
He was a huge frame of a man with typically blonde rugged looks. His hair was close cropped with the emphasis on neatness rather than style. His skin had hardened and tanned through exposure to the varying climatic changes. His most redeeming facial features were his squarely defined jawbone and his deep blue eyes. Mysterious, sifting cerulean eyes. The only personal attribute that he himself considered an advantage, was that of physical and mental violence. An attribute that he had mastered very quickly. All those who had come across him had absolutely no doubts as to his masculinity, if they had, they had not lived to regret it. It was the first time he had encountered a situation such as this and he had felt weak and submissive. He had been confused and frightened. He had decided to get drunk and seek his true sexuality.
His maid awoke the following morning with a face that barely resembled the youthful innocent one the night before. She was only 19. Berthold had spotted her whilst serving in Leipzig almost three years ago. She was a volunteer for a local orphanage. A task she had welcomely carried out having resided in the orphanage herself since the age of 10 after her parents were tragically killed in a road accident. She was extremely loyal to Berthold, although she didn’t really have much choice in the matter. She dreaded the ever more frequent occasions when the Master would return intoxicated. As she grew older she noticed him staring at her developing figure. It was a figure to be proud of but one which she desperately tried to hide.
She lay painfully void of all emotion. Several large contusions scattered her jawline, and her nose was contorted at an obscene angle. The rewards for resisting and disobeying her keepers wishes. She had suffered internal bleeding as Berthold bludgeoned her with his sizeable fists as he reached his climax. The maid was left discarded in severe pain. She could barely raise herself from her bed to perform her m