Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Merry Christmas

and a

Happy New Year

 

I’m going to take a vacation from posting on this blog until Monday, January 4^th.  Hope you have a great Christmas and New Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Assssin I Am - A bit of background on Fred's operation.

Today’s excerpt is from Assassin I Am, a standalone action/adventure book featuring new character Fred Dupree and several old friends.  Fred tells Rosemary very little about his background and assignment.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

NOTE:  This book is not yet up on the bellow web site.  It probably will not be until late January as my webmaster is having health issues that will require a stay in hospital.  The book can still be found at Amazon’s Kindle Book Store.

 

“Sorry, classified…except for my Army duty.  I was Special Forces.”

“Oh, that explains a lot.  As I said, just being nosey.  Classified, I can understand.”

Actually Fred had been part of Delta Force…a key senior officer in on nearly all operations of the group.  Against the wishes of his superiors, he led attacks on more than one occasion.  When he had been a major, there had been no problem with him leading missions.  That changed when he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.  Told he could no longer go on missions, he devised a method of doing so anyway—he simply ‘went along to view progress from a distance’.  This, of course, fooled no one, because his idea of ‘a distance’ was often about a foot.  When he was promoted to Colonel, the ‘brass’ put a stop to that.  The stop lasted for two missions, then he found one reason after another to go into the field. 

Within Delta Force he was revered as a no-nonsense, but fair, leader.  In dealing with Islamists, Fred was ruthless—bringing prisoners back was not in his makeup.  But his record of obtaining valuable intelligence and eliminating key figures in the Islamist movements caused everyone to ignore the lack of captured foes to be brought back alive.

On several occasions, he worked with various CIA operatives, and that led to the CIA’s hunger to have him as one of their own.  The Secretary of Homeland Security and the Director of the CIA came up with a plan to utilize Fred’s capabilities inside the United States.  Harvey Puckett, a high-ranking Assistant Director of the National Clandestine Service within the CIA, was approached to run the operation Fred would undertake.

Since the CIA is forbidden from operating within the borders of the United States, Harvey agreed to transfer to Homeland Security.  When Fred was approached with the plan—and it was agreed he could retire a Brigadier General—he was hired directly into Homeland Security, but with the understanding the CIA would be unofficially involved.  His job was to find and eliminate various Islamist terrorists inside America; in short, he was to be an assassin.  No records would be kept, and no credit would be claimed for the dead terrorists—no matter their importance—by Homeland Security or the CIA.  

If any bodies were discovered along the way and other agencies—or even Homeland Security investigators, tried to determine who had killed the terrorist in question—so be it.  The four men who knew of the operation were aware their actions were strictly illegal and all could be prosecuted if it ever came to light what was actually going on.  With that in mind, Harvey was very careful in selecting any support staff (such as pilots) who would assist Fred in any way.  The cover story for him was that he was assigned to track down terrorists and pass the information of their whereabouts on to Harvey, who would contact agencies…such as the FBI…to either monitor or arrest the terrorists once found.  In fact, in some cases, that actually happened when a known terrorist was allowed to move about freely under observation of the assets assigned to do so.  But most often, Fred just captured, questioned, and killed the Islamists.  Where possible, the bodies were disposed of.  Where it wasn’t convenient to do so, he simply left them behind and let other authorities try to figure out what had happened.

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Escape From Mexico (More Books) - Clyde and friends nab guy who put weapons in a friend's car before a trip to Mexico.

Today’s excerpt is from Escape From Mexico, a standalone action/adventure book featuring Clyde Feegle and several old friends.  Clyde and friends catch man red-handed putting arms into Michelle’s rental car as he had done with a friend before she drove into Mexico.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

As they followed her, Ralph dryly muttered, “Well, two down, one to go.  Hope you guys are right about the guy at the service station.”

Clyde and Bob had told Ralph the previous Monday they had a feeling the weapons were probably added to the trunk of Sandy’s car during her stop for gas.  At Ralph’s words, Clyde grunted in reply, “Yeah—me, too.  This is gonna be one hell of a wasted bit of time and energy if we’re wrong.”

Bob mumbled, “I sure hope we don’t have this thing figured out all wrong.”

Ralph joked, “It sure would be the pits to find out Mitch’s sister is a gun runner who just got caught.”

Clyde growled, “Not funny, Mr. Mead.”

“That’s ‘Special Agent Mead’ to you, pal.  And, yes—it was funny…or at least I thought so.”

Those three were still joking around when Michelle pulled into the filling station.  She got out and started filling the car.  As she did, the man on duty at the station came out, looked at her, smiled, and nodded greetings.  She smiled back and continued filling her car as the man asked, “Haven’t seen you before—you from around here?”

“No, just a tourist.  Gonna go into Mexico and wanted to fill up on this side of the border, since I have no idea what the gas situation is on the other side.”

“Good move,” the man replied as he walked around the car, then suddenly squatted down as he spoke.

Ralph in the rear, and Bob in the front—both had binoculars trained on him.  As the man deftly loosened the tire stem to let air out, Bob growled, “Gotcha, you son-of-a-bitch.”

As he spoke, the attendant walked around to Michelle who was putting the gas nozzle back in place.  “Ma’am, you’ve got a low front tire…probably picked up a nail or something.  I better check it out for you.”

“Oh, alright.  Thanks for checking things over for me,” Michelle muttered as she put the gas cap back in place.  “Will it take long?”

“No more than half an hour or so.  Around the corner, first building is a nice café, if you’d like some good grub.  I eat there nearly every day.  Mostly Mexican, but they serve other things—and they’re all good, too.  I’ll come round you up when I’m finished, if you like.”

“Thanks—that’s a wonderful idea…much appreciated.  See you in a while.”

As she talked, Michelle tossed the keys to the car to the man, and headed in the direction he had pointed when telling her about the café.

When she walked off, the man got in and backed the car into the garage bay, onto the rack there. 

Ralph asked, “You see that?  Who in the hell backs a car onto a car lift?”

Bob growled, “No one I ever heard of.  Do have to admit he did a good job of it.”

Clyde joined in the conversation, “Yeah—probably has a lot of practice.”

The three in Clyde’s car watched as the attendant went to the front tire with a tire-plugging kit and jabbed it into the tire, pulled it back, and cut the patching material off at the tire, before he started airing the tire back up to full.

Bob shook his head.  “Hey, asshole—you forgot to take the nail out.”

Clyde and Ralph agreed with the man’s ‘oversight’, while waiting for what they expected Bob to see on his laptop. 

When the trunk came open, Bob reported, “Here we go—bet he loads it up soon.”

And so he did.  Bob watched and relayed to his two friends what he was seeing, as the attendant put a large armload of arms in the trunk.  They continued to wait until he returned with still more, before covering both loads with a blanket.

Bob suggested, “I’m thinking we may as well go bust the bastard, fellas.”

Clyde started their car, without responding verbally.  As he drove to the same pump Michelle had used, Ralph made a call to the men he had standing by a few blocks away.  “Okay, we’ve got him red-handed.  Just pull into the station and go about filling you car, until I give you the high sign.”

Bob growled, “You stay right here in the car, ‘Special Agent’ Mead.  Clyde and I will have a few words with him.  You got your comm set turned on?”

“Yes.  Go.”

Bob and Clyde hurried into the garage bay and charged the attendant.  Both had their weapons out and pointed at him.  Clyde grumbled, “You might want to stand very still if you like living.”

“What?  What?  Who are you?  Cops?”

Bob shook his head.  “Nope.  We’re your worst nightmare.  We’re citizens not attached to the government in any way.  Oh—and we have a nasty attitude.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Monster's Palace (Other Books) - Rescue mission in Costa Rica.

Today’s excerpt is from Monster’s Palace, a standalone action/adventure book featuring new hero Clyde Feegle.  Clyde and team parachute down inside Costa Rica to rescue kidnapped DEA agent.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

When the jet reached the coordinates of the GPS signal—which they were now picking up—Merrill had the plane overfly the site with a very expensive infrared system aboard, showing only six signatures.  Merrill told the pilot to start a long circle around, for the parachute drop.  In was full dark, with very little moonlight.  Even as he went back to the cabin, he knew the jump would be a bit dicey, but only reported, “Six signatures—so we’re only dealing with five guys, if she’s one of the six.”

Clyde nodded, “Let’s get ready to jump.  With only five—or at the worst, six—Mitch, you and Dick with rifles.  Merrill and I’ll go in without them.  George, we’ll see you when you arrive with our transportation.  Bring a stretcher, in case she’s in bad shape.  By the way, what’s her name?”

“Reyna Ballesteros.  Good luck, fellas—and thanks.”

Two minutes later, all four of the jumpers were on their way to the ground.  All were wearing night vision goggles, so managed to avoid getting hung up in any of the trees in the area.  Clyde had a good idea which way to go, but Mitch checked the direction of the GPS signal and led the way on point, while Dick took the rearguard position, with Merrill and Clyde in the middle.  As they neared the small building they sought, Mitch held up his hand.  The others closed on him. They could see one man standing outside, next to a ramshackle car, drinking from a bottle of liquor. 

Clyde muttered, “Oh, for God’s sake—would you look at that idiot?  Mitch, we’ll work our way around.  When I flick my comm set speaker, end his miserable life, please.”

Mitch chuckled.  “You got, it, Clyde.”

When Clyde, Dick, and Merrill were in place at the house—after having determined there was only one door—Clyde gave the signal to Mitch.  Less than three seconds later, the man in front of the building was dead.  Even as Mitch started moving closer to the house, the other three burst through the front door.  Their intent had been to take one man alive, and they managed to take all four.  On seeing three men with weapons pointed at them, all had put their hands in the air. 

One of the men glanced from one to the other two of his men and muttered, “Now.”

The other three died even as they started to reach for their guns.  Clyde was all over the obvious leader of the group in a flash, knocking his gun from his hand before smacking him in the side of the head with his own weapon.  Certain the man was no threat, Clyde growled, “Dick, watch this asshole.  Come on, Merril—let’s look for Miss Ballesteros.”

They found her in a bedroom, tied spread-eagled to a bed, hands and feet tied to the four corners.  Her clothing was mostly torn off.  Clyde noticed her left arm and right leg were both broken.  She had been beaten in several places on her body (including her face), and lastly he noticed semen seeping out of her.  He nearly turned around to go kill their captive, brutally, but kept himself together.  As he pulled his knife to cut her free, he growled, “Merrill, find some clean linen or something to make compresses, then soak them in cold water and come in and work on her cuts and bruises, while I start on her arm and leg.”

Merrill, who was about to throw up, was only too happy to go elsewhere.  After Clyde cut her free, one puffed eye slowly opened and she muttered, “Shoot me, please.  Just kill me.”

“No deal, Reyna.  You’re too good for that.  I’ll do my best to fix you up, then we’ll get you some proper attention.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Back To China (Other Books) - Jim and crew free captives and leave prison compound.

Today’s excerpt is from Back To China, a standalone action/adventure book featuring Jim Scott and friends.  With the two men they came to free (and one more they didn’t know about) in tow, Jim and the rescue team drive away from the jail facility…still not realizing they are surrounded by a large contingent of the Chinese Army.  Enjoy and have a fantstic day.

m.j.

 

While one grumpy general, and a happy one, busy working to make their escape more difficult—even though they had no idea it was so—Jim was busy opening cell doors.  There were ten doors in all.  Jim opened three before he found anyone inside.  The fourth, however, presented a surprise for him.  It held a man, but he was neither Kevin Hogan nor Marlin Walendy.

He asked, in English, “Who are you?’

The man simply tilted his head, then shook it.  On a wild hunch, Jim asked, in Russian, “Who are you?”

He wasn’t really surprised when the man answered, “Dmitry Zhukov.  You are?”

“I are your way out of here if you choose.”

“I choose.”

“Follow me.”

The fifth cell on the side of the room that Jim had started checking was also empty.  By a simple stroke of luck that Jim had chosen that side of the room to start his search, Dmitry Zhukov was no longer cell-bound.  The second and third cells Jim opened on the other side of room held the two men he was looking for.  He found Marlin Walendy first, then Kevin Hogan.  He laughed at the response he got when he opened Kevin’s cell door and asked, “You wanna go home?”

“Took you long enough.  By your accent, I assume you are American.  Did Sir Anthony send you?”

Jim nodded as he hurried to check the other two cells, just on the off chance there were more like Zhukov in them.  While the three men looked at him, Jim spoke in English first, “We’ll have to hurry, because I have a friend who is busy setting charges to blow this place.  Please follow me.”  He repeated the message in Russian.

The friend Jim spoke of was, of course, Hector.  After checking the bodies of the two men shot, to make sure they were dead, Hector had asked, “You want me to rig this to blow the best I can?  If so, should I set it up for four, since Mr. Bigshot is coming along then?”

“No, Hec.  If he shows early, they might find your charges.  Time it for about ten minutes after we leave.  But check back in at some point, to make sure I found our guys out front.”

When Jim neared the front entrance with the three freed men, Hector caught up to him as he milled around, wondering if he should let Hector know to hurry up.  He smiled as Hector just waved at him before going into the second of the two emergency generator rooms he’d found.  In less than a minute, he came out and hurried forward to Jim and the other three.  “Let’s hit it.  Sure hope Billy and Bob have our rides ready—otherwise, we’ll have to run like hell.”

Jim needed no further encouragement as he pushed the main door open.  When all five were outside, Billy drove up in one car, with Bob right behind him.  Jim went around to the driver’s side front door of the car as Billy got out.  Jim pointed to the other car.  “Billy, take our extra passenger and get in with Bob.  He’s Russian, so you’ll have to use Russian for him to understand.” 

Billy did as told, while Hector hurried Kevin and Marlin into the back seat of the car Jim was going to drive, then hopped into the front seat.  As soon as his door was shut, Jim sped away, with Bob right behind him.

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Pool Of Blood (Other Books) - Good guys now know for sure who is behind several bad deeds.

Today’s excerpt is from Pool Of Blood, Book #3 of the Becker Trilogy.  Using the illegal recording system Jim set up at Hoyer’s home, the group now knows for sure he’s behind any number of evil things…including the attempt on Michelle’s life and the legal problems of Lorri’s brother.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

They ignored other innocuous conversations, until Dooley arrived.  The two men didn’t speak until they reached Hoyer’s den. Once there Hoyer offered Dooley a seat, then got right to the point, “I have something I want you to do.  You will be well-compensated…very well-compensated.  Before I get to the new matter, I want to congratulate you on the fine job you did on the Nessing matter.  You more than earned your money.”

With Michelle about to explode as she listened, Hoyer continued, “Now to this new situation.  I want you to find out what court dates Michelle Becker has upcoming.”

As he spoke, Hoyer put a hundred thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills on his desk.

Dooley swallowed.  “May I ask a question?”

“No.  You may do as I ask.  When you bring the list of her court dates here—don’t call—you can have the hundred grand I just put on the desk.  Agreed?”

“Yes, sir.  Since it’s Friday, late, I won’t be able to get that information before Monday.”

“Very well…I will expect you Monday—make it eight that night.  I have other things to attend to before then.  Here’s a bonus for the Nessing job.”

Dooley swallowed as he took twenty thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills from Hoyer.  He thanked him, then left as fast as he could, with no further conversation between the two men.

After he left, Hoyer poured himself a stiff drink and thought about Dooley.  He could tell the man was frightened—or at least upset about getting the information of the Becker woman.  He only hoped he would do as told, without telling anyone.  But he knew if the information led to her death, he might crack.  So he decided he would have to instruct Newton to eliminate Dooley after he took care of Becker…maybe even before.  The more he thought about it, he decided before was the better choice.

For his part, as he drove away from the mansion, Sam Dooley was sickened at the thought of what he knew he would go ahead and do.  He had no doubt Hoyer had been involved in the shooting at the courthouse, because he knew about the case Michelle had won against him.  As much as he knew he should report what he knew to the police, he also knew that eventually what he had done with the Nessing case would come out.  Not only was there the likelihood he would lose his license to practice law, but he might even wind up in jail.  There was also the matter of the money—he wanted it.

Now, as Dooley was drinking himself into a stupor in his house, those in the Becker household were listening to the conversation. When it ended, Jim hit the pause button on his laptop.  He looked at Lorri, who had tears rolling down her checks.  “It’ll be okay, Lorri.  We’ll fix this for you.”

Bob, sitting nearest to Lorri, put his arm around her and stroked her hair.  She shivered, then muttered, “What an awful man.  If he only knew how hard I worked to get him his money…”

Michelle was as angry as she had ever been in her life.  “This bastard is done!  If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll see him disbarred and in prison!  It’s a shame we can’t use this recording in court.”

Jim shook his head.  “No—but we can use it.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Bigfoot Bait (Other Books) - Humor after long drive.

Today’s excerpt is from Bigfoot Bait, Book #2 of the Becker Trilogy.  Nearly finished with their drive from Missouri to Spokane, Washington, Dan calls Jim and those two have a bit of fun discussing the current situation.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

As those two continued to talk as they followed along, Dan and Janet were drawing ever nearer to Spokane.  They had found the station where Biden had filled up for the last time before reaching, then passing through the city.  While Janet drove, Dan was busy doing what he felt would be his final plot.

When he finished, he called Jim.  Jim answered, “We’re trying to get some sleep, here, Dan.  What you got?”

“Sorry about your lack of sleep…like hell, I am.  I ever get in another bed, I may never get out.  Anyhow, I’d bet his next stop after Spokane will be about thirty miles or so past it.  Somewhere around mid-morning.  Spunky and I’ll be pulling into Spokane around ten.”

As Janet shot Dan a dirty look, Jim laughed, “By your ‘Spunky’ comment about Jan, I assume she’s been giving you grief?”

“You might say.  In fairness, she has done a good deal more of our driving, since I’ve been busy plotting the course.  Also, she’s having a caffeine rush from all the coffee she’s consumed.  I’m sorta in the same boat, but am handling it a lot better.”

“Says you, pal.”

Jim chuckled, “Tell her I heard her.”

“I’m sure she knows already.  She said it loud enough to make sure you would hear.  Anyhow, see you in the morning—later in the morning.”

“Yeah, well—if you get in by ten, we’ll still have an hour or so before check-out, so you can use our room for a power nap.”

“Go to hell, Scott.”

Jim was laughing as he finished the call.  Holly—now awake, too—just looked at him before he explained Dan’s side of the conversation.  When he finished, she groaned, “Wonderful.  Can we get back to sleep…please?”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Otgher Books, and More Books - Too Many Women (Other Books) - Bob takes it easy on Terri after goof.

Today’s excerpt is from Too Many Women, Book #1 of the Becker Trilogy.  Everyone expects Bob to raise hell with Terri for nearly getting herself killed while he was gone by not doing as told, but Bob surprises them.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

Back in the kitchen, Bill was finishing the clean-up work.  He glanced over his shoulder as Bob sat down across the table from Terri.  He thought, “Here it comes.”   

Terri thought the same thing before Bob asked, “I take it you have been well scolded by Leo about today?”

Terri meekly answered, “Yeah…and I’m really sorry, Bob.  I mean really sorry—not just saying it.  From now on you tell me to shit, I’ll squat and ask what color.”

Bob shook his head.  “Okay, enough said.  By the way, where’d you come up with your less than elegant phrase?”

After Terri joked, “Ten grand off my bill,” she grinned before she added, “Leo.  He told me it would be my best plan to stay alive and not have him turn me over his knee for the spanking I was about to get.  He also told me if the guy had killed me, he—Leo—would have jumped up and down on my dead body.  He was…understandably…very upset with me, Bob.”

“And, I guess, took your mind off the fact you had nearly died?”

“Yeah, that, too—but I didn’t figure it out until just now, when you said it.  Wow, pretty smart guy, your Sergeant Major.”

“Yes, he is.  You have no idea how much respect I have for him.”

Leo entered the room as Bob spoke.  “Thank you, Bob—didn’t know you cared.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Ancient Rookie (Other Books) - Chet captures killer.

Today’s excerpt is from Ancient Rookie, a standalone sports fantasy book with an action/adventure sub-story.  Chet captures killer then makes sure he won’t run away.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

Chet didn’t reply, he just did as told with the seat belt even as he started the car.  Then he made a U-turn in the middle of the road before heading toward the marina entrance.  He drove right past the guard who held up his hand for Chet to stop.  The two men had already gotten in the car.  The driver was just starting it up when Chet rammed the car in its side, going as fast as he could when he hit it.

The force of the air bag hitting him stunned Chet for a moment, causing him to slump over the receding bag.  The NCIS SUV was just arriving as the two men from the car staggered out of their wrecked car—one limping badly, the other bleeding from several cuts on his face and right arm.  The limping one pulled out his gun.  He was aiming it at Chet when he heard the approaching SUV.  As he turned, Brian shot him in the chest from the window of the SUV.  The other man, nearly blinded by the blood running down his face, nonetheless scrambled to draw his gun as he walked past the front of Chet’s car, toward the approaching SUV that was just screeching to a stop. 

Chet—his senses regained—forcefully swung open the door of his car, smacking the bleeding gunman so hard the man dropped his gun.  In a flash, Chet scrambled out of the car, hit the man with all he had before he jumped on top of him as he half fell.  Just as Chet was getting ready to hit him again, Brian laughed, “I’ve got it…shipmate.”

Chet sighed, got off the man, stood up, then grinned, “He’s all yours.”

As Brian quickly placed handcuffs on the man, he pointed, “The boat.”  He gave a head jerk to his two agents who had hurried up to the scene, one checking to make sure the man Brian had shot was dead.

The female agent, who had told the Coast Guard to have a diver handy in case an attaché case went over the side of the boat, was the first to react.  She sprinted down the boardwalk leading to the boats.  The other agent was right behind her, as was Brian who said, “Keep an eye on this guy, Chet.  He causes you any grief, kick him in the nuts.”

Chet thought, “Why wait,” as he kicked the now-standing man—with his hands secured behind his back—right in the testicles, as hard as he could.  The man crumbled to the ground, screaming before he threw up.  Chet kicked him in the face.  “Quiet, you punk bastard…I saw you kill a good sailor tonight.  I’d just as soon kill you right now.  I’ll damned sure be there when they hook you up to the needle.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - How 'bout Both (Other Books) - Helen target of terrorist plot.

Today’s excerpt is from How ‘bout Both, Book #3 of the Bader Trilogy.  Terrorists try to kill Helen.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

While those cars were on their way, Helen was on her way back to her station, with Walt driving.  She briefly told him she had had a nice chat with Ruth, who she now had even more respect for, but didn’t go into detail about the conversation.  She really liked Walt a lot and didn’t want to hurt his feelings with the subject of her feelings for Elmer being brought up.  

As they approached the station, the car with the bomb-laden woman was parked across the street from the station, half a block down.  It was the normal routine for Walt to let Helen out, then watch her go inside, before finding a parking spot.  He preferred to park in front of the station, rather than the rear parking area because the rear lot offered too many prime locations for a sniper to make a try on Helen.  The front of the building offered much less in the way of sniper sites.  Also, there always seemed to be plenty of parking available.  So it was this time because, even as he stopped in front of the station to let Helen out, he noticed a car was just pulling out of the first space available, down from a three-space no parking area in front of the station. 

That was not all he noticed.  When Helen started to get out, Walt touched her arm.  “Honey, head straight on in—then get away from the door.  Make sure no one else is anywhere near it.  We may be about to have an incident.  Now, hurry along.”

Helen gave him a funny look as she wondered why she was not being offered the normal kiss he gave her when she got out of the car…but did as told.  Even as the car door shut, the young woman, who had been told the woman getting out of the car could help her if she hurried and got to her before she got inside, got out of the car.  She hurried toward the front entrance as Helen was doing so from a much shorter distance. 

The woman had been told Helen’s name.  On seeing she wouldn’t get there in time to be rescued by the woman she had been told was her only hope of getting away, she yelled out, “Mez Blsoe, Mez Blsoe—help.”

By then Walt was already easing his car forward.  He recognized the situation for what it was.  He had seen enough suicide vests in Iraq to know what he was looking at as the serape-covered woman—whose upper body was much too stout for her lower half—hurried toward Helen.  When Walt slammed on the brakes, put his car in park, then got out, he glanced at Helen, who had stopped.  He shouted, “Helen—get the hell inside!  Get away from the doorway!”

He turned and pulled his weapon before he shot the woman in her leg.  As he dove for cover behind the car in front of him, placing himself between it and his car, he snapped off two shots in the direction of the car the downed woman had gotten out of.  His aim was nearly perfect as he hit the driver—who was in the process of pulling the car out—square in the forehead.  He hit the other man in the side of the face, even as he depressed the button, setting off the vest. 

Being totally unfamiliar with the vests, the last thing the driver should have been doing was pulling the car out, until after the blast.  A good portion of the blast hit the car.  It stopped dead in the middle of the street, with two nails and a ball bearing from the vest hitting the man who was still alive, but now unconscious from Walt’s shot.  None of the three projectiles killed him, but all did additional damage to his face.

Meanwhile, Walt was hit in the back of his legs and in his back by several of the nails and ball bearings.  The woman was, of course, killed instantly.  Several people outside storefronts nearby were injured to various degrees but none killed.  Helen, who had done as told, managed to avoid being injured in any way, even though the front doors of the station were shredded. 

After the noise of the blast subsided, she walked through where the doors had once been, to look out.  She saw Walt trying to stand up.  She shouted back inside for someone to call the police and 911 to get an ambulance on the way.  Then she hurried to Walt and, as he sat on the ground, she kissed him.  “How bad are you hurt?”

“Bad enough.  What in the hell are you doing out here?”

“It’s over.  No one is headed this way—everyone is running away.”

Still between the two cars, Walt nodded, “What about the car down about forty feet, just pulling out onto the street?”

“It’s just sitting there.  Looks like both guys in it are dead.  The police and ambulances should be on the way.”

Walt smile.  “Then what are you doing here?  Go be a reporter lady.”

Helen burst out laughing.  “Not this time.  I’m with you until you get hauled away.  We’ve got other reporters.”

“Like hell.  Show your face on screen to let the son-of-a-bitch know he missed again.”

“You sure?”

“Hell, yes.  I’ll be okay—nothing a bit of tender loving care won’t cure.”

“You’ll get plenty of that, pal.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and Miore Books - Horace Goes Home (Other Books) - Horace questions bad guy.

Today’s excerpt is from Horace Goes Home, Book #2 of the Bader Trilogy.  Horace finds out what happened to the second man he shot defending Elmer’s home.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

Meanwhile, in the barn, Horace walked up to Hector.  “Okay for me to ask the one with the bum hand a question or two?”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t kill him in the process—but wait just a few minutes.”

Hector was busy setting up his laptop and hooking it up to a printer.  When ready, he took a portable scanner over to the three men.  He told one of his men to release their hands one at a time, then re-cuff them when he was finished.  He put each man’s full hand on the scanner, pushed a button, then went to the next one.  With the first two, he used the right hand; with the man with the bad right hand, he used the left hand.  When he finished, he looked at Horace.  “Have at it.”

As Hector walked back to his laptop, Horace took the black bag off the head of the man with the bad hand, and ripped the duct tape loose.  “Where’s your friend?”

The man looked hard at Horace.  “Go to hell.”

Horace kicked him hard, in the area of his ankle.  The man all but fell to the floor.  “The next one is to your knee.  Where is he?”

“You killed him, you bastard—and you’re gonna get yours.”

Horace put the duct tape back over his mouth, put the hood back on, said, “Thanks,” then turned to leave the barn. 

As he did, Hector caught up to him.  “Horace, when this is all over, you want a job, come see me.”  Smiling, he handed Horace his business card.

“Thanks—I may just do that.  Thanks for letting me spend a few quality seconds with that jackass.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Whodunit Did It (Other Books) - Some humor amid time out from working case.

Today’s excerpt is from Whodunit Did It, Book #1 of the Bader Trilogy.  With Elmer and his partner spending a few days at the home of Elmer’s third ex-wife to save on driving time while working on a major case, a bit of humor crops up.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

Those calls completed, Elmer drove to Ruth’s home.  He enjoyed a fine salad with her and Alan—then it was on to the workout room.  When he walked in wearing his workout clothing, Alan joked, “Hey, boss—how about I go out…check a few more of those places off our list, rather than do this.”

Ruth laughed, “Like hell, tubby.”

Alan shook his head.  “Ruth, have I ever said anything bad about the way you look?”

Before Ruth could answer, Elmer butted in.  “There is not one single thing wrong with the way Ruthie looks.”

Ruth faked a pout.  “What is wrong with me, Alan?  Not enough boobs or something to suit you?  Or do you prefer blondes?  Or do you think I should wear more make-up…what do you find so offensive about me?  Please tell me.”

Alan held up his hands.  “I surrender.  Not a single thing is wrong with you, Ruth.  If you could be cloned, I’d take the next one off the line, if she would have me.  I was just saying…I wasn’t saying anything.  I give—sorry.  You look great.”

“Okay, you can eat again tomorrow night.  Now let’s get with it.”

Elmer grinned, “You should have quit while you were behind.  I’ve seen this look in Ruthie’s eyes before—man-oh-man, are you in for a workout.”

When they finished the workout, Alan staggered back to his room.  Elmer and Ruth smiled.  Shortly, they were in the shower before making love.  Ruth had just gone to sleep—Elmer nearly was also—when the landline phone on the end table rang.  Elmer answered it, listened a few seconds, then muttered, “Not even close—we’re a Norwegian fish market.”

Ruth wondered if she had heard correctly.  “What was that about?”

“Some gal wanted to know if this was a Chinese restaurant.”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Adios, Amigos (Asps Series, Book #9) - Drew scares man to death.

Today’s excerpt is from Adios, Amigos, Book #9 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Drew scares a man to death and Pepper spray paints a message for the terrorists.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

When Drew and Boris were certain they had gotten all the man knew, though they did find it hard to believe he had no idea his employers were al-Qaida, Boris just nodded.  Drew took out his weapon as he told the man to kneel in front of him.  The trembling manager did as told and Drew told him if he had a God, now would be a good time to pray to him.  When he realized Drew was about to kill him, he sobbed for his life.  Drew shook his head.  “Too late for that.  You made your deal with the devil—now is your last chance to make amends with your God.”

The man shook his head and continued to tremble and cry as Drew pointed the Asp at him.  When Drew started to squeeze the trigger, the man’s eyes grew wide as he waited to die.  Just before squeezing the trigger to the point of firing the weapon, Drew moved it just slightly, but enough so that when the weapon fired, the bullet just grazed the manager’s ear.  Then man shuddered as he fell over on the floor.  Drew cocked his head to one side, then bent down to feel the man’s pulse.  “I’ll be damned…he’s dead.  Now there’s a first—actually scared the poor fella to death.  Hell, I was just planning on turning him.  Wanted him frightened enough he would have no thoughts of informing the terrorists of who we were.”

Boris nodded.  “Yes, I had the same idea.  Refreshing to know we are still on the same page, old friend.  Like you, I have never in my life seen anyone actually die from fright.  He’s actually dead?”

Drew shrugged.  “Yeah.  First time I ever saw someone actually die of fright.  Well, nothing to do about it now.  Pepper, do you have your trusty can of spray paint in the heap of a car Edgar drove?”

“Yup.  Let me go get it.”

Pepper returned with her spray paint.  She asked, “Any druthers on the message?”

“Nada,” answered Drew.

Edgar had taken the entire episode in.  He couldn’t believe what he had just seen, but figured the man was probably better off dead if he was such a coward—and also a fool for not having made any calls after what he’d heard.  As those thoughts were running through his mind, Pepper spray-painted, “Pancho Villa lives.”

Drew asked, “What in the hell is that supposed to mean, Pepper?  Nobody down here will know who in the hell Pancho Villa is after all this time since he lived.”

“Who cares?”

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com

 

Latest from the Janitors, Asps, Other Books, and More Books - Father Mulligan (Asps Series, Book #8) - Bar gets his way with pranks.

Today’s excerpt is from Father Mulligan, Book #8 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Bear gets his wish to leave the clinic and head home after his repeated hijinks get his point home.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

While those two were getting ready for their visit to the edge of the Papoulias estate property, Jeep walked into Bear’s room at the clinic.  “Okay, pain in the ass, your ride to freedom is on the way.  Jim’s coming to pick you up.  Should be here in the morning some time.  Last I heard, he was over the Atlantic.”

“Thank you, kind sir doctor.”

“You do know if I had my way, you’d stay here for at least another week, don’t you?  Wasn’t for all the ruckus you’ve caused, I’d insist on it.”

“What ruckus?”

“Your crabs, for starters.”

“Oh, that.”

Bear, having every intention of becoming such a bother to the staff they would let him go home, had started devising ways to be just what Jeep had called him…a very large pain in the ass.  One of his stunts was to start scratching when one of the nurse’s aides came into his room—as he did, he groaned, “I’ve tried to tell everyone the crabs I picked up in Kenya are driving me nuts.  Can’t you help me out here?”

Soon thereafter, all sorts of attention was being paid to Bear.  He was moved out of his bed, the linen was changed, an on-call doctor was summoned, only to determine—after a thorough inspection of the area where crabs normally existed on a human body—the maddening little critters seemed to be absent.

That performance was followed up with a prank on a new-to-him nurse who brought in his lunch one day.  He looked at the tray before and shook his head.  “Boy, the word sure doesn’t seem to get around.  I’m deathly allergic to rice pudding.  The rice causes me to go into convulsions.  Can’t you do something about putting it on my chart or something?”

Of course, Bear had no such allergy.  After much commotion about the rice “episode,” he quietly asked another nurse’s aide—who was giving him a sponge bath—“Did you bring the medication for my skin disease…whatever the long name is?  I’m told it’s much more contagious the closer I am to my time period to take the pills?”

The aide, who in spite of wearing gloves, dropped the sponge before she hurried out of the room—to be replaced by Jeep a short time later—who raised all kinds of hell with Bear.  Bear simply smiled as he took it all in.  When Jeep finished, Bear totally dismissed the tirade by the doctor.

 

Sponsored by:  www.mikejacksonbooks.com