Synopsis
  The Touch of God is the story of Mark Pittman, a 22 year old mechanic from Canterbury, Kent. Whilst walking home during a powerful storm Mark collapses in the street and is rushed to hospital with a suspected epileptic seizure.
    When he comes around he meets a beautiful nurse named Leona but Mark has enough problems to deal with in his own life, mainly his racist drunk of a father who thinks nothing about taking his anger out from life on his entire family.
    So Mark quickly checks himself out of hospital and tries to put the whole ordeal behind him. But as the days tick by, Mark struggles to put it out of his mind and begins to realize that something isn’t quite right.
    Unknown to him he’s become the primary target of a top secret C.I.A operation dating back to the early 1950’s and a covert military operation into Bolivia that had tragic consequences. Now the mysterious professor Lewis, a hero of the Korean War and legend in the CIA’s science and technology department, closes the net in on Mark who’s beginning to make startling discoveries about himself, discoveries that could change the course of human evolution forever.
    Mark eventually learns that he isn’t alone. A long time ago there was another ..the Bolivian Mendoza Pardo. Can Mark outrun his destiny, or will he be forced to succumb to the task nature and the U.S government have selected for him?

Sample - Chapter 20
   Mark grimaced for a moment as he struggled to bring up the bitter-tasting lump that was stuck in the back of his throat. Succeeding, he grimaced even more at the foul taste of the drug before trying to swallow it down again. He struggled to snort yet another line. His nose had literally had its lot, having consumed the best part of a gram within the last two minutes.

    Much to Mark’s disappointment it seemed to go on strike all of a sudden.

    Clenching his teeth and roaring off the drug, he gripped the edges of his coffee table, struggling not to look at the sight of his father dead on the floor only a few feet away.

    Taking sharp breaths, Mark half expected to drop down dead himself. He’d never taken so much in such a short space of time. Strangely, the thought of collapsing and OD'ing didn’t bother him. At least it would be a way out. What bothered Mark was the not knowing, so many questions lay unanswered, his mind ticked over with thoughts at so fast a pace he was having trouble even consciously registering them.

    Why all of a sudden did he have this ability? What happened to him when he’d collapsed last weekend? Had the government used him as a lab rat for some mind altering drug? Was he just going mad and it was all a delusion? Who were they outside? How would it all end?

    The thought of Leona burst into his mind, just her face smiling at him, and he had to force it away. Why hadn’t he met her a few years earlier? He’d only known her a few days but he was in love with her and was sure of that.
    Suddenly, Mark heard a noise from out in the street pulling him back to reality. Jumping up from the sofa he glanced out of the front window and down at the street at a sight that took his breath away. Black-clad soldiers were swarming around in the road wearing gas masks. He noticed several in the windows, level with him, across the road. It was such a surreal sight that he had to shake his head to make sure that it was actually happening. Spinning around, he glanced at Tony Montana on the Scarface poster and in his drug-fuelled state he felt a deep alliance with the fictional character. A crash filled the air and something smashed through his bedroom window and rolled along his laminated floor. It was smoking, and Mark instantly recognized it as a gas canister. They were smoking him out.

    Within a fraction of a second, the canister flew up out of the window smashing a new hole in the glass. Mark was stunned that he’d made it happen in such an instant, almost before he’d even thought about it himself. He hadn’t needed to concentrate at all and the sheer extent of his capabilities scared him a little, it was like it had no boundaries or if it did, he certainly hadn’t reached them.

    With a new wave of confidence he heard himself muttering Pacino's classic line ‘You want to play? Lets play,’ as he moved towards the window.
                                                                                   ***
    Tarquin watched in horror as the gas grenade flew back out of the window and landed in the road just past the SUV’s. He’d half-expected it but even he hadn’t figured on how swiftly Mark would act. Tarquin had been expecting trouble after the incident with the SUV earlier. The armoured vehicle weighed more than two tons fully loaded and Mark had picked it from the ground and tossed it through the air like a Frisbee. The target’s power was unbelievable. Mark Pittman is a formidable enemy, the warrior inside, Tarquin thought. The canister landed and began emptying its contents which the soldier had hoped would have disabled the target for long enough for his team to enter the house and fully sedate him. But that wasn’t meant to be. Instead, the gas just clouded the street with smoke creating a spooky atmosphere. A crash filled the air as one of the snipers from an upstairs window was dragged forward through the glass, landing with a thud on the concrete twenty feet below him.

    His body armour had done him little good and a pool of blood quickly built up around the injured soldier’s head. Tarquin looked up at the target’s window and caught a glimpse of Mark looking pale and scared through the broken glass at the chaos in the street below him. Tarquin instinctively brought his rifle up, shouldered it and fired a shot. What the soldier witnessed next echoed what the Professor had been trying to warn him about. Firepower was of little use against someone of Mark’s abilities; it just provided him with more ammunition to use against them.

    Tarquin had been more than confident that his special ops could disable Mark. He’d personally led them on missions all over the world; they were the best of the best. Mark Pittman was just one man but he was about as armed and dangerous as they got.

   Tarquin watched speechless as the dart he’d fired stopped dead a few feet in front of the target. It hovered in mid air and was joined by half a dozen more that had been fired in the last few panicked seconds by his fellow troops. Everything went quiet and all that could be heard was the radio buzzing feedback as Tarquin waited for the outcome of his actions. Suddenly, in a flurry of movement the darts shot off in half a dozen different directions. Most bounced off body armour with just one lone dart hitting the spot, sending a dose of instantaneously paralyzing sedative into a soldier’s neck. It landed in the tiny gap between his chest plate and gas mask; he barely took another step before he collapsed in a heap on the floor barely conscious and unable to move.

    Tarquin had seen enough.

    “Gas the entire house out,” he ordered into his radio as he backed away towards the entrance of the cul-de-sac. A moment later, canisters were launched through most of the windows, it would take only moments for the gas to fill the downstairs and reach the target’s bedroom.
                                                                                          ***

    Mark heard several crashes, followed by the hissing sound of canisters discharging, a moment later he saw the fog of gas creeping up the stairs. He glanced at the door to his bedroom which slammed shut instantly under his gaze but Mark knew that it wasn’t enough. Snorting another thick line from his coffee table he racked his brain for a way out as sweat ran down his face.

   His options were running low now, he was aware of that and his survival seemed unlikely. If he could get out of the house he could go on the run, he’d be ok for cash, all he had to do was escape.

    A thin layer of gas was creeping underneath the door causing him to cough and splutter. Time was running out. Suddenly an idea sprung to mind. He peered out of the window at the chaos in the street. The black-clad troops had fallen back a little, waiting for the gas to render him unconscious as he knew it inevitably would if he didn’t act quickly...

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