Tears And Terrorists, Book #4 of the Asps Series - Dusty and Ike rob a ride to meet the C-130.

Today’s excerpt is from Tears And Terrorists, Book #4 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Dusty and Ike set out to meet the C-130 bringing the rest of the team and friends.  Enjoy and have a great day. 

m.j.

 

Even as that conversation was going on, Jim and Dusty were just finishing their conversation about where Wendy should land, and when.  Dusty felt he and Ike—or one of them—could sneak away from the hotel by ten and, traveling at night, it would take them about two hours to reach the stronghold of the insurgents.  He also told Jim the site he had spotted for Wendy to land was probably two miles short of the camp, and a mile east of the road…more of a path he told Jim.  Jim asked, “What means ‘probably’?”

“Didn’t get a chance to actually go there.  But am pretty sure the way the land lays, there could be a good spot over a ridge, running parallel to the dirt path to the camp.”

Jim just laughed.  “I hope you’re right.  Bear says you’ve got GPS in your head…we’ll see.”

At nine that night, Dusty and Ike went out the back of the hotel and stole a Land Rover they found parked there.  In addition to their Asps, they both brought their night vision gear and another GPS device.  As Dusty drove the Land Rover, Ike joked, “You’re pretty good at stealing cars.”

“This isn’t a car—it’s a Land Rover.”

“Yeah, right.”

“We learn all manner of things in the SEALs…including how to improvise transportation if things go in the dumper.  Didn’t think it was a good idea to rent something that might be known to our ‘new employers’.”

“Oh, I agree—but just the same, you sure were slick getting into this thing and getting it started.  I missed that part of Boris and Drew’s training.”

“Wasn’t them.  I told you…SEALs.”

“The Army didn’t teach us in Special Forces anything about stealing cars.”

“Probably figured everyone in the Army could steal a car without being shown how, once they were in.”

“Oh, you’re real funny…squid.”

Once well away from the capital city, they pulled off the road, disconnected the lights on the Land Rover, and put on their night vision gear.  Then drove on until sure they were about two miles from the camp.  Both men had watched the countryside carefully as they drove back and forth, and both were sure where they were.  Dusty pulled off the side of the road and pulled into the only real vegetation in the area.  He set out on foot, leaving Ike with the Land Rover.  Ike’s story, if discovered, was he was there to check on how the sentries he’d placed were doing, and had stopped where he was to go forward on foot.

Dusty went over the ridge he had told Jim about and could see a nice flat, barren place for Wendy to land.  He called Jim and told him he was at the new ‘International Airport of Namibia’ and Wendy could follow the GPS signal right on in.  He gave Jim the code of the GPS device.  After that, Jim told him they were already in the air and would probably be there within the hour.

Dusty smiled at the timing.  Had he and Ike waited until ten, they would have timed it almost perfectly, but he had decided there was the small matter of transportation and he didn’t count on having said transportation within ten minutes of exiting the hotel.  He walked back to Ike to inform him of when the C-130 would be landing, then went back to the top of the ridge.  As an afterthought, he went back down to the Land Rover and rooted around in the back, until he found three roadside flares.  He took those and headed back to his designated landing strip.  Ike just laughed when he saw what Dusty was doing, but said nothing.

 

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Fido, Book #3 of the Asps Series - Harry to the rescue!

Today’s excerpt is from Fido, Book #3 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Harry rescues a damsel in destress…who is to become his wife in time.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day. 

m.j.

 

His observation made, Harry finished his drink and ordered another.  In the midst of drinking the second drink, a burly, rather obnoxious man began pestering the small lady, to the point of causing a disturbance in the bar area.  Harry looked at the bartender, who just shrugged.  “None of my business.”

Finally, when the lady said for the third time, “Please, just leave me alone,” Harry decided intervention was mandated.

He walked over to the table.  “Say, pal, the rest of us in here are trying to enjoy our drinks without all this disturbance, and I have clearly heard this lady ask you to split three different times.  So why don’t you play nice, and take a walk…at least away from this table.”

The drunken man then made a terrible mistake.  Though he was as tall as Harry—at six feet, two inches—and outweighed his two hundred and ten pounds by over fifty pounds, the punch he threw at Harry would be his last mistake for the next portion of his life.  Harry caught the potentially offending fist in his hand and quickly had the man’s arm behind his back.  During the process of getting the arm to there, Harry broke it, between the wrist and elbow.  Also in the process of getting the broken arm behind the man’s back, Harry noticed he was wearing a shoulder holster.  With the man in pain and basically helpless, Harry deftly reached in and took out the gun which had been in the holster.  As he shoved the man to the floor, Harry asked, “I presume you have a permit for this, don’t you?”

The man said nothing, so Harry glanced at the bartender and growled, “While it has been established this is none of your business, how about being a nice guy and calling the police…NOW, DAMMIT!”

The hard ice in Harry’s voice convinced the bartender to do as asked.  Harry then stood over the man on the floor, until the police arrived.  When they did, he handed the gun, butt-first, to the first officer on the scene, and told him what had happened.  The officer looked at the man on the floor, then glanced around the bar area.  Several people there nodded agreement with what Harry had said, with two of those people and the lady who had been disturbed saying so verbally.  It took nearly twenty minutes for the police to be totally convinced of Harry’s story, discover the man did not have a permit for the gun, and lead him away.  Harry’s CIA identification helped the process along, with Harry telling the police he was on vacation and didn’t really want to press charges on the man for the swing he took.

As the police led the man off, the small lady stood up and looked at Harry.  “Thank you.”

Harry smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

“I saw your identification.  You really on vacation?”

“Yeah…about two or three days’ worth.”

“I guess the least I can do is buy you a drink, for rescuing me from an uncomfortable situation.”

Harry laughed, “Sounds good to me.  My place or yours?”

“I was thinking here.”

“I guess it’s too late for me to say I might have meant at your table, or at the bar?”

The lady laughed.  “Yeah.  But had you asked that, I’d have said at my table, because if I sit at the bar, my nose barely goes over the top of it.”

Without a word, Harry held out her chair, then sat down across from her.  “I’m Harry Chickamunga.  And you are?”

“Patty Tagget.  What kind of name is Chickamunga?”

“Damned, if I know.  It’s a long story.”

A waitress had reached the table at that point and, after they had both ordered, Patty smiled.  “I’m not going anywhere until I finish my drink.  So I’d say we’ve got time for the long story you mentioned.”

“Well, let me shorten it a bit.  A long ago relative was shot in the head during the Civil War and couldn’t remember who he was.  The doctor who operated on him hung ‘Harry Chickamunga’ on him.  If he ever remembered his real name, he never told anyone.”

“Oh.  I bet you could make it a better story if you told me the long version.”

“No doubt…but I’m sort of sick of tellin’ it, to tell you the truth.”

“What do you do at the CIA?”

“Kill people.”

“No, really.”

“A bit of this and a bit of that.  Sort of a trouble shooter.”

“You’re not gonna to tell me, are you?”

“Nope.  How about you?”

“I’m a pilot…commercial.”

 

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The Zimo Hunt, Book #2 of the Asps Series - Three Asps thumb a ride in Pakistan.

Today’s excerpt is from The Zimo Hunt, Book #2 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Dusty, Bear and Kye get a ride.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day. 

m.j.

 

At about the same time Bruce spoke, Bear was walking up to a truck which had stopped as he waved at it.  Dusty, Bear, and Kye had decided when any vehicle came along, heading in their direction, it would be flagged down by Bear and Kye, with Dusty standing a distance from the vehicle, with his back turned.  Bear had a skin tone of the area, as did Kye.  Both had substantial Hispanic blood, though neither was full-blooded Hispanic…Kye being half, and Bear three-quarters.  Once they had reached the road they were looking for, and their plan hatched, they simply waited until a truck came along, with Dusty riding in the back and not showing his face, therefore giving lie to the three of them being either Pakistani or Afghans.

When the driver of the truck looked out his window at Bear, he was greeted politely in Urdu.  The man shrugged and replied in Pashto, saying he understood Urdu, but spoke it poorly.   Bear acknowledged that and replied in Pashto, “I am grateful, for I have trouble with Urdu myself.  I wonder if my friends and I could get a ride in your direction?”

The man nodded.  “Yes, of course.  But there is really only room for one of you in the front.”

Bear smiled, and gave words of thanks, then added, “I will ride in the front.  The others can ride in the back.”  In a louder voice, he ordered, “In the back, your two—we don’t want to keep this kind man waiting.”

Dusty, who had ambled to the rear of the truck, and Kye, who was standing near Bear but further away from the cab of the truck, were soon climbing in the rear.  Kye situated herself so the driver would have trouble seeing past her to look at Dusty, who sat with his back to the cab, with his legs hanging off the back of the truck.  Bear, meanwhile, hurried around the truck and climbed in alongside the driver.

The driver glanced through the rear window.  “The lady is very attractive.  Is she your wife?”

“No.  My sister, and is engaged to the man in the back with her.”

“Pity.”

 

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Birth Of The Asps, Book #1 of the Asps Series - Dusty and Kye joke around before going to the al-Qaida camp.

Today’s excerpt is from Birth Of The Asps, Book #1 of the nine-book Asps Series.  Dusty and Kye have some fun while making sure there are no terrorists around before heading to the al-Qaida camp through the rear access.  Enjoy and have a great day. 

m.j.

 

Since the rest of the team had to walk some distance to the tire tracks, Dusty at that time was pulling the truck to a stop, where he had parked his car on two previous occasions.  The windows were down and he raised the speaker of his headset and did the same for Kye.  He leaned over and whispered, “Make sounds like you’re getting turned on with love making.  After a bit, you might fake an orgasm.”

Kye whispered back, “What makes you think I know how to do that?”

“All women do.”

“Ha!”

Knowing the subject would be revisited at a later time, Kye nonetheless soon started moaning and groaning, helped along by fantasizing something she knew she should feel guilty about fantasizing, but didn’t.  She added a bit of jarring to her performance by bouncing up and down in her seat.

Meanwhile, Dusty scanned the area with his night vision gear.  After about three minutes of Kye’s act, he reached over and touched her.  He whispered, “Okay, I don’t see anyone around.  You can stop.”

“I was just getting into it.”

“Yeah, yeah—come on, Whatawaste.”

 

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Sedona Chip, Book #9 of the Janitors Series - French spy gets bum dope.

Today’s excerpt is from Sedona Chip, Book #9 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Joyce, a retired actress, passes phony information to a French spy as part of the Sedona Chip ploy.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day. 

m.j.

 

While the Janitors rested, Joyce Bettencourt was approached by the French spy who had recruited her for information.  He thought himself suave, and a ladies man.  Joyce routinely drove to work in her own car, and normally wore very casual clothing.  She wanted to appear like a real person, not the very rich lady she was.  She had swept floors, cleaned toilets, and done other mundane things at the main Bettencourt Industries plant.  She had learned the business, literally, from the ground floor up.  Steve was very proud of her for that, and the employees all loved her and her attitude.  When the spy had first noticed her, he figured her to be a secretary, or something of the kind.  In fact, he still didn’t know she was co-owner of the plant with her husband.

When his efforts to lure her into bed failed, he offered her money, to find out what secrets she could.  On his first approach to her, she became suspicious, in part, because she had been warned repeatedly by Steve that such attempts might be forthcoming.  All employees had been so warned.  After the first attempt to make inroads with her failed, she mentioned the contact to Steve.  He immediately called the FBI and they soon set up a program for her to go along with him for money.  The information she had given the spy over the last three years had all been incorrect.  Close enough to be believable—but enough to mess up a French company trying to duplicate the work done by Bettencourt Industries.

She was not surprised in the least when the contact was made.  In this case, the plan of what to give the spy had already been figured out.  He was told that Bettencourt Industries only made some component parts and tools for a secret weapon project.  The parts were for assembly of a satellite.  Joyce told him there was no way to give him more information, because the government had taken all copies of the plans and specifications for the parts and tools, and molds used in the production of the material had been destroyed.

The excited spy gave Joyce five-thousand dollars for the information, and raced off to call Maurice Lambourne, who was very pleased to get the report, and was soon calling Claude Basset.  Of course the entire conversation had been video-taped and, when shown in the White House—and finally reaching Jim and the Janitors a few days later—had them in stitches as they watched.

Jim had a case of fine non-French champagne sent to Joyce, with a note that read, “Nice acting job, for a toilet cleaner.”

 

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Devil's Brew, Book #8 of the Janitors Seris - Drew helps mob boss escape justice

Today’s excerpt is from Devil’s Brew, Book #8 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  After mob boss gives Drew information on an arms deal, Drew helps him make good his escape from justice.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day. 

m.j.

 

“Good.  I have a favor to ask that will get you in the soup if ever found out.”

“Me, but not you?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Sure, Drew—for you, anything.”

Drew then reached into his pocket and pulled out the plane’s call-sign he had written down when Angelo’s pilot called it to him.  He read it off to his friend and then added, “The plane is carrying someone I want to remain anonymous.  I just want it to land, get filled up, and leave without any contact—except for landing instructions—with anyone on board.”

“Done.  When do I expect the plane?”

“It’ll be leaving Andrews Air Force Base in the next twenty minutes or so.  And Red, thanks a bunch.”

“You ever get down my way, you owe me a steak.”

“More like the whole damned cow.  See ya, pal.”

“So long, Drew.”

Drew then went over to a writing table in his room and wrote down coordinates he still remembered, even though he hadn’t used that particular facility in over ten years.  He got up, walked over to Angelo, and handed him the piece of paper.

Angelo took it, looked at Drew as he stood, and held out his hand.  As they shook hands, Angelo asked, “Why, Drew?”

“Because we’re really not all that different, Angelo.  And I happen to like you for some reason.  Plus which, I owe you.”

“No, you didn’t, Drew.  But thank you.  We were a little concerned with our planned fuel stop.  You have more than solved that problem for me.”

Drew patted Angelo on the back, took his empty glass, set it down, and headed for the door, sure he would never see Angelo Calabrese again.

After he’d seen Angelo off, Drew pulled Jim aside and briefly brought him up to date.  Both men agreed that it was best to wait to inform John Engle—until Drew had word that the Calabrese plane had left its refueling stop in Florida.  Jim neither asked “why” nor admonished his father-in-law.  He understood the lines between good and evil were sometimes blurred.  And he realized the information given them was vital, even if a number of the weapons to be delivered had been rendered useless.

 

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Dead Silent Calm, Book #7 of the Janitors Series - Janitors add new team member.

Today’s excerpt is from Dead Silent Calm, Book #7 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  On the way to China, the Janitors get a new member for the team.   Enjoy and have a great day. 

m.j.

 

After Jim had Rodney alter course for that area of the coast and informed the rest of those aboard the Dog Pound II that all was well, they settled into a routine aboard the boat.  With another day and night still remaining before they approached the coast of China, the coming night was spent sitting around and talking about nearly everything under the sun.

Out of the blue, Rodney casually asked, “Uh, Jim, what would be the chances of…er…me joining your team?  My wife has subtly asked on more than one occasion if we were ever going back to the mainland.  She’s from Boston, and I was originally from Sioux Falls.  We just went to Hawaii to nose around and wound up settling down there…for a few years while I tried to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”

Jim glanced at Billy and Hector, then, after two shrugs, grinned.  “From what we know about you in Desert Storm, I know you’re not lacking in guts.  But, uh, can you shoot very well?  I don’t mean when you’re right on top of some guy like you were in that building you ran into gun a blazin’.”

Rodney shrugged.  “I haven’t had much practice from any kind of a distance.”

Jim laughed and stood up and walked over to where he had slung his shoulder holster with his silenced Walther in it.  He took the gun out, picked up an empty plastic jug and walked to the stern of the boat.  Everyone else, including Rodney, followed him.

Jim pushed the safety to the off position and handed the gun to Rodney.  Rodney took the gun as Jim tossed the jug overboard.  He fired four times without coming close to the jug.

Jim laughed as he reached over and took the gun.  One shot later, the jug was filling with saltwater.  As they all walked back to where they had been, Jim asked, “How are you with languages?”

“Awful.  My wife says I have trouble with English.  Speak a little bit of a few of the local languages, Hawaiian, Japanese and a tiny bit of Chinese.  But have trouble with long sentences…except Japanese.  That one I’m pretty good at…well not great.”

Jim sighed.  “How about computers?  How are you on them?”

“Awful.  Hate ‘em.”

Jim looked at Dan, then Billy, the women, and finally Hector.  “Well?”

Dan sort of flipped one hand in the air, as he grinned.  Billy shrugged.  Hector grumbled, “Why the hell not.  Guy can’t shoot, can’t speak and is worse on computers than Dan.  What’s not to like.  Hell, we might get someone shot somewhere along the line and could use a pro to patch us up.  Far as I’m concerned, he’s in.”

“I’ll say,” joked Janet, “now I’ll be outta washing dishes all the damn time.”

That drew a round of laughter from the Janitors.  Part of Jim’s training of the Janitors included target practice, ending with firing at grapefruits at a mile.  Worst shot had to wash dishes until the next round of target practice.  Janet had become more or less the permanent dishwasher.

Jim looked at Holly, Suzan, and Jessica.  “You three have anything to add?”

Holly grinned.  “He’s in.”

Jessica just nodded.

“Guy takes care of his Marines the way he did, gets my vote,” Suzan replied.

 

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The Saltwater Connection, Book #6 of the Janitors Series - Jim and Boris question bad guy.

Today’s excerpt is from The Saltwater Connection, Book #6 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  After capturing the Muslim men who came to buy the kidnapped women, Jim and Boris start questioning one of them.   Enjoy and have a fantastic day. 

m.j.

 

Jim and Boris turned their attention to the prince.  Boris roughly sat the man in the chair at the desk and Jim grumbled, in Arabic, “Okay, here’s the drill.  You’re going to give me your numbered account numbers and the access codes.  I’m taking a million dollars from you.  Then, after we have liberated a like amount from your friends, you’ll be left here to fend on your own.  Your plane—or whoever’s it is—will be damaged slightly, so it won’t fly without minor repairs.  You’ll have to dispatch someone to the nearest town for parts.  We’ll leave the other vehicles in working order for that.  You fail to comply with my request for your account numbers and access codes and I’ll blow off your right kneecap, just like I have your left one.  If you’ll still not convinced, my next shot will be between your legs.  Do you understand?”

The prince looked at Jim with hatred in his eyes and spat.  Boris backhanded him and split a lip.  Jim took out his silenced Walther and shot him in right knee.  Just then, one of the freed women came in carrying two plates of food.  She looked at the carnage, with shock showing on her face.  Another of the women followed her in—also carrying two plates of food—and had much the same reaction.

Boris smiled.  “This gentleman came to buy you into his harem.  Would either of you like the next shot?”

One of the women softened her expression.  “Yes, now that you mention it, I think I would.”

The other one grinned.  “Me, too.  Sorry if I looked startled at first.  I nearly forgot how I got here and the treatment I’ve been subjected to while here.”

Boris nodded.  “Fully understandable.  What you are witnessing is the Jim Scott direct method of questioning.”

 

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The Tickleton Affair, Book #5 of the Janitors Series - Bomber's car found.

Today’s excerpt is from The Tickleton Affair, Book #5 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Dan, Mark, and John find the bomber’s car.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day. 

m.j.

 

Janet sat around in Nancy’s office for nearly an hour, waiting for her return, idly talking to Marty, who had joined her in the office.  Finally, she decided to call Dan on his cell phone.  He had been bouncing around in John’s jeep for nearly two hours when she called and didn’t answer until the second ring, due to the jostling.  “Orf.”

“Orf lesser here.”

“Hi, honey.  I can barely hear you.  Must be a far piece from a cell.”

“Yeah, you aren’t coming through too well either.  I’ve got bad news.  Two of the ‘things’ we have insured—that we don’t know what we have insured—are missing.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“Nancy—Miss Knight—is looking for them…has been for over an hour.  She is convinced they’re still here—somewhere.”

“Okay, keep me informed.  I’m gonna go ‘cause you’re breaking up something awful.”

“Okay.  Bye, dear.”

“So long.”

As Dan pushed the “end” button, John grumbled, “With a ten-speed, there’s no telling how far he rode after parking his car.  Do you want to go further out?”

Dan shook his head.  “He wouldn’t have gone too far.  He had to get back and get gone.  How far are you from Buchanan’s house now?”

“About three miles.”

“Keep looking.”

Twenty minutes later, at a time that John was about to give up the search as hopeless, the sun caught the driver’s side outside mirror of a hidden car and flashed a beam across John and Dan in the front seat of the jeep.  John glanced at Dan, who was looking at him as well.  Without saying anything, John drove the jeep deep into the underbrush, right up to within five feet of Harold’s car.

The three men hopped out and went to the car.  There they pulled off a number of branches that Harold had carefully placed on the vehicle.  Dan muttered, “Well, no sense in worrying about fingerprints,” as he tried the door and found it locked.

Mark shrugged his shoulders, picked up a rock, and smashed the driver’s side window.  After he reached in and opened the door, he grinned.  “A trick we learned in cop school.”

Dan laughed and helped Mark search the car.  They found nothing but the car rental contract—until Mark popped the trunk release button.  There they found more than they really wanted.  In a briefcase were pictures of Arnold and Nancy, whom they had never seen, pictures of Arnold’s two houses, and Nancy’s, a picture of the Buchanan Industries plant, with descriptions and notations on all the pictures, and a notation that Arnold would be in Sedona for the weekend drew a few conclusions for Dan and Mark.

Dan put all the items back into the briefcase.  “Well, no doubt now that his job was to eliminate both of them.  And, it appears, they were getting some pretty good information from someone.  What do you think, Mark?  Phone tap or traitor somewhere?”

“I’d bet against phone tap, but possible.”

“I agree.  Back to town, John.  And thanks for doing a good job of finding this thing.”

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Toboggan, Book #4 of the Janitors Series - Dan and Mark still snowed in and not liking it.

Today’s excerpt is from Toboggan, Book #4 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Snowed in, Mark and Dan are getting grumpy…but funny grumpy.  Enjoy and have a great day. 

m.j.

 

With the snow coming down even more furiously than it had for two days, Mark looked out the window in the motel’s bar.  “Damn, Dan.  We may never get to see if we’re right about that lodge being their hideout.”

Dan nodded his agreement, but remained silent.

Mark looked at his friend.  “A penny.”

“Oh, just thinking ‘bout that poor girl stranded up there, somewhere on that stinking mountain.  I sure hope that guy Newman has a clue.”

“Well, from what we heard, he’s not stupid.  Trying to find a stream to follow downhill.  Not sure I would have thought of that.”

“Oh, hell, yes, you would have.  Don’t try to humor me, Yomo.”

“Okay, sorry.  I got an idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Why don’t you call Pat and tell him I died of boredom.  That way he won’t call me again.”

“The snow’s getting to your brain.  God, Mark, settle in and brood with me.  Don’t try to be funny.  I want humor, I’ll go talk to that waitress we had this afternoon for lunch.”

Mark laughed.  “If she had laughed or called one of us ‘honeybunch’ one more time, I would have strangled her, right there in front of God and everybody.”

“No you wouldn’t.  Pat told you to behave.”

“Oh, yeah.”

 

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Dog Pound, Book #3 of the Janitors Series - Sergeant Yomo on the job.

Today’s excerpt is from Dog Pound, Book #3 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Sergeant Yomo meets Billie Jo Lane’s manager and FBI Agent Morehead early on after the kidnapping.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day. 

m.j.

 

Sergeant Yomo looked at Agent Morehead.  “Sounds like a professional job, and it sounds like they have one helluva good plan put together if they’re so casual about it.”

Agent Morehead nodded his head. “Sounds that way.  Do you wanna fill me in on where it took place and what kind of information may be forthcoming from that?”

Sergeant Yomo answered, “At a popular nightclub called the Suicide Prevention Center.  Not in the best of neighborhoods, but a nice place nonetheless.”

Morehead nodded his head again.  “Yes, I know it.  Have been there socially.  There’s a lot of daytime-only businesses—lawyers, dentists, and so forth—in the neighborhood, so there probably weren’t many witnesses.”

“None, would you believe it?  Not one damn person saw a thing ‘til a guy and his wife came out of the place and saw her two bodyguards lying unconscious on the sidewalk.  So we don’t even have an accurate time.”

“How are the bodyguards?”

“The hospital says they’ll be okay.  Just drugged with something pretty potent.  I can just imagine what kind of useless descriptions they’ll give us.”

“The car?”

Sergeant Yomo snorted and answered, “Used their own car—ah, Miss Lanes’ car.  The car she was brought in.  We found it a few blocks away.  Again, no witnesses.  Guess they had their own car sitting there.  Must’ve walked to the scene.  The car’s downtown getting a thorough going over.  Bet they don’t find a damn thing.”

“Sergeant, I’d say you have one fine mess on your hands.  My guess is you’ll score at the money drop, or strike out and just have to pray you get her back alive.  Mr. Wallace, there’s nothing for me to do, really.  I’ll just run along.  Sergeant, give me a call if you need me.”

Agent Morehead handed his card to Sergeant Yomo and gave another one to Lloyd, then took his leave.

After he left, Sergeant Yomo sighed.  “Mr. Wallace, I want you to know we’ll do everything we can, but I think Agent Morehead was right.  It’ll be all about the money drop, unless they make a mistake I don’t really expect them to make.  Are you going to have any trouble coming up with the money?”

“I don’t think so.  On that subject, should I get small unmarked bills?”

Sergeant Yomo shook his head and answered, “No.  Get hundreds.  Even with hundreds, five million dollars is going to weigh a ton.  These guys know that.”

“Should I have them marked somehow?”

“No.  I have a hunch when we get their instructions, we aren’t going to like them.  Count on being told to get old non-sequential bills.  We’ll scan ‘em, of course, so we’ll at least know the numbers of all the bills and put them on a hot sheet.  But these guys are gonna have a plan to combat that.  Maybe already have a money-laundering operation set up somehow.  In addition, I bet they have a dilly of a money drop planned.  That’s our best hope of getting them, though.”

“Since he told me we had time, I guess I better head back to Los Angeles tomorrow and make arrangements for the money.”

“If you’re going to leave, I better put someone in your room to answer the phone.  Since these guys didn’t even waste breath any saying not to contact the police, they won’t get out of sorts if a policeman, or policewoman, answers the phone.  We won’t be cute about it.  If they call, I’ll have my person here tell them who they are and why they’re here.”

“Makes sense.  So you think the kidnappers are real professionals then?”

“Yes.  They didn’t come up with any of the crap you see in the movies…uh, sorry.”

“No offense taken.  I understand what you mean.”

 

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Back To Iraq, Book #2 of the Janitors Series - Billy takes out four terrorists.

Today’s excerpt is from Back To Iraq, Book #2 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Billy Longbow takes out four terrorists.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day. 

m.j.

 

Hector was already walking toward Jim’s Humvee as the pilot signed off.  Billy and Jim got out, soon followed by the others in both Humvees.  Hector sighed.  “Sounds like we have company coming.”

Jim nodded.  “Okay, who volunteers?”

Hector looked at Billy.  Billy looked at Hector and grumbled, “Indian scout take first shift.”

That drew a few chuckles as Billy went to get out a silenced rifle, checked it out, and put on a communication set that was locked in on a channel that matched the sets of everyone else on the team.  Next he checked his sidearm, a silenced Walther pistol identical to the ones used by all members of the Janitors, looked at his compass, and headed off across the sand and up a dune that was only a few feet from where they had stopped.

After his first few steps, Jim called out, “Uh, Billy, no prisoners.  That team General Bradley sent out reported these guys are terrorists of some stripe.  We sure as hell aren’t leaving any live terrorists behind to come blow up more of America…and we aren’t taking them home.”

Billy nodded as he headed off.  As he did, the others all put on their communicaton sets.  Those sets were quite small, similar to those worn on the sidelines by NFL coaches, but smaller and much lighter.  They were transistorized, but had a range sufficient for the job at hand, as Jim had no intention of anyone getting anywhere close to out of range, as he didn’t want anyone to risk getting separated from the team.

All members of the team were already wearing night vision goggles, an item that gave them vast superiority during the night to anyone not wearing similar gear.

 About five minutes later, Drew blew out a mouthful of air.  “I’ll follow Billy.  When I think we’re far enough out that you can start up again, I’ll holler.”

Hector shook his head.  “I can do that, Drew.”

“No.  I’m not so damn old that I can’t pull my weight.”

“That’s a lot of weight to pull, old man,” joked Boris.

Drew just gave Boris a dirty look and headed off in the tracks Billy had left.

The remainder of the Janitors just stood around the Humvees or sat in them for what seemed a lifetime before Drew contacted them.  “Okay, start up.  If I can hear you, I’ll let you know.”

Jim got into the lead Humvee and replaced Billy as the driver.  He started up and waited to hear from Drew.  When he heard nothing, he started driving ahead.  Hector soon had the second vehicle started and followed.

After about fifteen minutes, Drew called a halt.  “Can hear you.  Shut them down.”

Jim and Hector both immediately stopped their vehicles and turned them off.  Then Jim grumbled, “Billy, we aren’t more that ten miles from the target.  You should be about half that close.”

Billy didn’t reply, but Drew did, “He’s onto something.  I can tell by his body language.”

The “body language” Drew spoke of saw Billy dive to the ground and sight in on the nearest of the four men who had just come over the crest of a sand dune.  He waited until all four men were halfway down the dune before he re-sighted, this time on the man who was the longest distance from him, in the back of the fanned out procession. 

His shot took the man in the throat, just above where neck joined torso.  The man was dead before he hit the ground.  The second shot took out the man next furthest from Billy.  By now, the other two realized they were under attack.  Both dove to the ground.  One died on the way down, the other seconds later.

 

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Baghdad Butcher - Book 1 of the Janitors Series - Jim and friends take down Iraqi drug operation.

Today’s excerpt is from Baghdad Butcher, Book #1 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Jim, Hector, and Billy take down a drug operation, while Holly watches from a distance.  Enjoy and have a great day. 

m.j.

 

All three men chuckled as Jim watched the obvious leader of the Iraqi contingent, Aras Alwash, carry two very heavy-looking suitcases over to the pilot, who had already opened a panel in the fuselage that covered a large storage area.  The pilot started removing suitcases from the plane, as the Iraqi set down his two. 

When the other three men from the car started carrying suitcases toward the limo, Jim nodded.  “Okay, fellas, follow my lead.  Let’s go out the back.  You two go around the building to the left, I’ll go to the right.  Oh, by the way…no Arabic, just English and Spanish.”

Without a word, first Jim, then Billy, gave their Flashers to Holly and the three men left her behind as they circled the building and slowly started walking toward the plane and limo.  About halfway there, one of the Iraqis noticed them and dropped the suitcase he was carrying.

Quickly, Jim wiggled his gun.  “Don’t move, any of you!”

The four Iraqis saw the rifles pointed in their direction and decided to do as told.  The pilot, on the other hand, broke for the cockpit of the plane and tried to start it.

Jim shook his head in disgust.  “Oh, hell.  Would you look at that?”  He quickly followed those words with three fast rounds into the engine of the plane and one in the tire nearest him.  As the plane settled with a slight list towards Jim, Billy, and Hector, one of the Iraqis reached for his gun.

Billy shot him in the knee, nearly blowing off his kneecap.  As that man screamed out in pain, another made a move Hector didn’t like and got much the same treatment, only Hector’s shot took him just above the knee and blew away a good portion of his thigh bone.

While Aras Alwash stood quite still, the third of his men also went for his gun.  Billy grumbled, “Enough” and blew the top part of his head away.

 When the dust cleared, the pilot got out of his ruined plane with his hands up; Alwash stood still as Jim, Billy, and Hector walked up to their five captives, one of whom was dead.

Jim walked over to the two suitcases that Alwash had carried to the plane and opened one.  It was loaded with currency—big bills, mostly hundreds.  He whistled softly.  “Check those four for guns…the limo, also.”

In Spanish, he said to the leader, “You sit by the back wheel and don’t move a muscle.  Yo, pilot,” he added in English, “park your ass on one of those suitcases with drugs in them.” 

The sulking pilot did as told.  “You bastard…you killed my plane.”

“Should have killed you for that dumb-ass stunt you tried to pull.  I will, too, if you give me any little reason.”

Billy and Hector gathered up guns from all four Iraqis—six in total—and checked the car for more, but came up dry.  Without waiting to be told, they set about making the car as useless as the plane.  Only then did they check on the two wounded men.  Seeing that neither would bleed to death, they walked over to Jim.  Billy quietly asked, “What now?”

“Tie the pilot to his plane.  Make darn sure he doesn’t get loose.”

Usama bin Laden’s lead man Aras Alwash sat and thought, “I cannot let my leader down.  My mission cannot end like this.”

Just as Billy asked, “How about the other one,” Alwash reached up under the back fender of the limo and started to pull out a gun.

Jim saw him and got off a snap shot with the rifle.  The bullet entered just below the half-sitting man’s knee and traveled up his thigh a foot or so.  He screamed in pain and dropped the gun.

Jim walked over, picked it up, and looked at Billy, “He’s not going anywhere. But now that I think of it, one of these bozos might crawl over here and untie our friend from the friendly skies, so go and see if our watchdog in the shed perhaps has some handcuffs.  He’s always playing around with the damn things.”

Picking up on the “He’s,” without saying anything, Billy headed for the shed where Holly waited and asked through the window hole, “Do you have any handcuffs?”

As Holly reached behind her for the handcuffs she always kept tucked under her belt, she whispered, “That didn’t go too smoothly.”

Billy took the offered handcuffs, grunted, and headed back to Jim and Hector.  Once there, he handed the cuffs to Jim, who cuffed the pilot’s hands around the landing gear.

Hefting one of the bags, Jim nodded to the other.  Hector picked it up and followed Jim and Billy back to the shed.  As they went, the pilot yelled, “You can’t just go off and leave us here.”

Jim answered, “We’ll send help.”

As they walked away, Billy glanced back.  “Uh, Jim…not gonna question that head guy?”

“No.  Least ways not now.  Think I’ve got a better source of information…we’ll see.”

 

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