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Skinner--known by the name of the psychological experiment that fostered his emotionless brutality--founded his career in "asset protection" on fear. To touch anyone under Skinner's protection was to invite destruction. A savagely effective methodology, until Skinner's CIA handlers began to fear him as much as his enemies did and banished him to the hinterlands of the intelligence community.
Now, a cyber-terrorist attack on the US power grid is about to end that long exile. His asset is Jae, a roboticist with a gift for seeing the underlying systems violently shaping a new era of global guerrilla warfare.
At the root of is all is a young boy, the innocent seed of a plot grown in the slums of Mumbai. Brought to flower, that plot will tip the balance of world power in a perilous new direction.
A combination of Le Carre spycraft with Stephenson techno-philosophy, SKINNER is the triumphant novel that delivers a new kind of thriller for a new kind of world.
Erasing All Signs of Death and The Shotgun Rule, the Henry Thompson trilogy, the Joe Pitt casebooks, and several titles for Marvel Comics. He lives with his family in Los Angeles. charliehuston.com Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital. To receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest ebooks and apps, sign up for our newsletters. Sign Up Or visit us at hachettebookgroup.com/newsletters For more about this book and author, visit
impales a wedge of strudel. “A protocol.” “It looked for indications of alienation. Political. Social. Emotional.” Skinner contemplates the food on his fork. “An algorithm? Behavioral?” “Yes. It looked for emerging complexities in the behavior of a subset of field personnel. If it found those complexities, it measured them. If they tipped into the red, it triggered a set of responses. Proactive. Unilateral. Preemptive. Someone hatched a protocol meant to ameliorate a certain kind of risk.
opportunities to try to hide the fact that he’s killed someone. Changing the tense, from Terrence liked the future to Terrence likes the future. This is not something on which to hang your fucking hat when assessing whether the person you are traveling with has killed a friend. I miss him. What he also said. Well, shit, she misses Terrence, too. And she can’t stop thinking about Haiti. The satellite photos she had looked at on the plane, coming in with a team of American emergency responders.
occupied. “Yeah, okay. Little overloaded. But okay.” She takes a drink from the bottle, then points it at the protesters. “What the fuck?” Skinner nods. “Yes.” He looks down at Twig-Beard and the runaway boy, Mohawk. They’ve untangled their limbs and scooted themselves away from Skinner’s feet, half under the table that supports the cell phone collection and the three radios. Twig-Beard is working one of the newsprint plugs from his right nostril. “They follow us from lunch.” His English
it doesn’t seem possible, so he does an image search and looks at pictures of Kalki instead. Rain starts to fall, hitting the tarps overhead like little bombs. When the deluge comes they have to raise their voices to be heard inside the shed, becoming louder and louder, until they are all yelling. Urgent to be heard and understood. lonely house NIGHT TRAIN TO Copenhagen. First stop at the Hellsten. Jae repacks her essentials in her backpack, making room for Skinner’s laptop and the two