Today’s excerpt is a SNEAK
PREVIEW of Assassin I Am, a standalone book featuring new hero Fred
Dupree, and assisted by old friends Jim Scott and Hector Garcia. Rosemary finds out Fred very able when it comes to dealing with terrorists. Enjoy and have a fantastic day.
m.j.
NOTE: This book is in the process of being
formatted before being placed on Amazon’s Kindle Book Store. Should be up within the week.
When they
reached the airport, the pilots were already there. After fast introductions, Fred and Rosemary
loaded up their belongings—including one item from the trunk that Rosemary had
not previously seen, but had an idea of what it was. After everything was aboard, Fred drove his
car back to a parking lot. By the time
he returned, the pilots had the engines warmed up and, after he closed the
door, the plane taxied to the runway. As
it started its rollout for takeoff, things started to happen, most of which—in
the short term—were very unfavorable to those aboard the plane.
Five terrorists
on the far side of the runway opened fire.
They had placed themselves there, since they had no idea which plane
Fred would board. They had not opened
fire earlier because, from their location, the distance to the plane didn’t
offer the likelihood of success in taking out Fred, their target.
Two of the men
had been instructed to concentrate fire on the landing gear of the plane, while
two others were told to fire at the cabin area.
The last shooter, the leader of the pack of descendants of the devil, fired
at the cockpit. The two firing at the
landing gear were the only ones to have real success. They managed to collapse one landing gear,
and degrade the other one. The result
was that the plane flopped on one side before the second gear gave way.
Realizing they
were being fired upon—and feeling the plane tilting to one side—the pilots shut
down the engines, but not before the plane spun more than halfway around, and
was facing one of the hangars at the airport.
As it screeched to a stop, Fred grabbed the new-to-Rosemary item, handed
it to her, then picked up his laptop. He
did so on his way to the cockpit to yell, “Hey—you two okay?”
One of the
pilots answered, “Yeah—get the hell off.
We’re shutting down a few things and will be behind you in about ten
seconds.”
Fred went back
to the door and pushed an emergency door opening device that, in effect, blew
the door open and out of the way. He
glanced at Rosemary, who had slung her long-strapped purse over her shoulder
and picked up her own laptop. He pointed. “Run for that tractor-looking thing. Keep the case I gave you in front of you,
chest-high. With luck it’ll protect you
in front—I’ll cover your back by running right behind you. Get.”
Rosemary did as
told, and was running full-speed, with Fred a step behind, when the plane
exploded. They had only gone about
thirty feet by then and were both flung down and forward. Rosemary landed on the case Fred had given
her, and Fred landed on top of her.
After a ‘joyride’ of about ten feet, they stopped. Fred reached to help Rosemary, but she was
already up and running again, so he followed along.
The plane was in
several pieces, none of which landed on Fred as he was covering Rosemary. The rear of the cabin area and the tail flew
in the direction of the shooters. The
cockpit—and very little else—was hurled seventy-five feet toward the hangar it
had been pointed at. Not much else of
the plane was in large pieces, except the outer third of each wing.
Stunned
themselves at what had happened, the shooters missed the chance to fire at Fred
before he was out of range of their weapons.
The leader of the terrorists told his four men to give chase, while he
would get their car, and hopefully circle around behind Fred and Rosemary. The four men charged forward, firing as they
ran. Their fire had no effect, because
they were gaining little ground on their two targets.
Rosemary reached
the tractor-like vehicle (used to tow planes) first and had the case Fred had
given her opened. She was assembling the
rifle inside by the time Fred slid down behind their temporary safe haven. He gave Rosemary a funny look as he took the
weapon and finished assembling it. He
handed Rosemary his handgun and muttered, “Watch our backs. You see anyone, just point at them and fire,”
before he loaded the rifle and turned to fire.
The terrorists
were no match for the sniper rifle—especially in the hands of an expert. It took Fred exactly four shots to kill the
four men running toward him and Rosemary.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the car barreling down at
them. He took careful aim and fired
through the front windshield, killing the last of the terrorists.
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