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Once Al Simmons worked for the government as a cold and efficient assassin. But he wanted something his top-secret agency could never allow: He wanted out. So the people he trusted with his life led him into an ambush—and his life ended in a rush of terrible flames.
Now he has come back—to the street where he once lived. . .to the woman he once loved. . .to the traitors who destroyed his body but not his soul. Al Simmons, though, isn_t Al Simmons anymore. With a new body forged in the flames of Hell, he_s an unstoppable weapon for chaos and destruction. Reborn, relentless, without a master, he must fight the dark objective for which he was resurrected in order to prevent the approaching Armageddon. He is . . . SPAWNBACK FROM THE DEAD
Once Al Simmons worked for the government as a cold and efficient assassin. But he wanted something his top-secret agency could never allow: He wanted out. So the people he trusted with his life led him into an ambush—and his life ended in a rush of terrible flames.
Now he has come back—to the street where he once lived. . .to the woman he once loved. . .to the traitors who destroyed his body but not his soul. Al Simmons, though, isn't Al Simmons anymore. With a new body forged in the flames of Hell, he's an unstoppable weapon for chaos and destruction. Reborn, relentless, without a master, he must fight the dark objective for which he was resurrected in order to prevent the approaching Armageddon. He is . . . SPAWN
AL SIMMONS stepped through the door of the Hong Kong Hilton and casually surveyed the night—the passing traffic, the bustle of pedestrians, the shouts and the honking. The familiar odor of spices mixed with the acrid smells of exhaust fumes and fuel oil. But there was an other smell that reached his nostrils tonight, the faint odor of smoke from a major fire. In the distance, sirens wailed.
He thought he detected a heightened awareness amid the usual clamor of the crowded city. The uniformed doorman seemed to twitch as he looked around. A frown creased his uneasy features when his gaze settled on Simmons. But maybe it was just his imagination. After what he'd just experienced, there was plenty of reason for Simmons to be edgy.
He wore a gray tailored Ruffini suit purchased a couple of months earlier in Rome. A garment bag hung from his right shoulder, and he carried a black leather briefcase in his right hand. The suit helped to disguise the muscular physique. To anyone who noticed him, he appeared to be merely a successful African-American businessman. That was exactly the way Simmons wanted it.
The doorman nodded, then signaled for a taxi. Simmons handed him a couple of Hong Kong dollars, then slid into the backseat. He glanced at his watch. "The airport, please. Chek Lap Kok."
"Oh, it's good you want to go to the new airport, not Kai Tak," the driver said with a Malaysian accent. "Bad things happened there tonight. Very bad."
The driver stuck his head out the window, yelled some thing in Chinese at another taxi, then merged into the heavy traffic. With a population of more than five million, the streets of Hong Kong werecongested at virtually all hours. Simmons had visited the island several times in the past decade, but it only took a couple of days before the pressure of Hong Kong's masses started to make him feel edgy. But tonight it wasn't just the congestion that unsettled him.
"So what happened?" he asked, trying to sound vaguely curious, but not overanxious.
"An army of terrorists attacked." He glanced up into the rearview mirror, then back to the road, and back and forth as he spoke. "They blew up half the airport, killed lots of people. They say it might be the rebels, but I thought they all left the country or were put in jail."
The taxi passed I. M. Pei's Bank of China, one of the island's bastions of capitalism. Since July, the land of silk and money was now under the control of the Chinese. In spite of promises that little would change, there had been a few rallies and several skirmishes between protesters and the police. But nothing as dramatic as the driver de scribed had occurred. For his part, Simmons hoped the rebels didn't get blamed for the massacre. He knew, as no one else knew, that they didn't deserve it.
His thoughts rolled back three hours.
Copyright ) 1997 by New Line Productions, Inc.
Anonymous
Posted November 21, 2004
Once Al Simmons worked for the government as a cold and efficient assassin. But he wanted something his top-secret agency could never allow: He wanted out. So the people he trusted with his life led him into an ambush--and his life ended in a rush of terrible flames. Now he has come back--to the street where he once lived. . .to the woman he once loved. . .to the traitors who destroyed his body but not his soul. Al Simmons, though, isnt Al Simmons anymore. With a new body forged in the flames of Hell, hes an unstoppable weapon for chaos and destruction. Reborn, relentless, without a master, he must fight the dark objective for which he was resurrected in order to prevent the approaching Armageddon. He is . . . SPAWN
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Posted March 14, 2000
This book is really cool and if you have not seen the movie I reccomend that too. Micheal Jai White stars as the title character and John Leguizamo makes an excellent evil clown...
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Overview
Once Al Simmons worked for the government as a cold and efficient assassin. But he wanted something his top-secret agency could never allow: He wanted out. So the people he trusted with his life led him into an ambush—and his life ended in a rush of terrible flames.
Now he has come back—to the street where he once lived. . .to the woman he once loved. . .to the traitors who destroyed his body but not his soul. Al Simmons, ...