Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Baghdad Butcher, Book #1 of the Janitors Series - Jim and Holly go for a swim...in a car.



Today’s excerpt is from Baghdad Butcher, Book #1 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Wanting his foes to think he’s dead, Jim intentionally drives his bullet-proofed car into to a trap.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

“Thanks.  Okay, Holly.  Here we go.”

That said, Jim handed Holly his Flasher and followed the drug dealer’s car past the semi.  He was not surprised when it started pulling out behind him to close off the only exit available.  In fast order, the lead car raced forward and stopped next to the limo.  As Jim drove up, several armed men jumped up and began shooting at his car.  Nearing the gunmen, Jim swung his car down the pier and slumped over in his seat, pressing the horn as he did so.  Racing the car while holding the horn down, he swerved back and forth as he headed for the left side of the pier, where he could see the small retaining log end was rotted away, as Billy had told him to expect.

Holly meanwhile put the headset in a baggie, put the baggie in the mesh bag, tied the drawstring, then did her best to pretend as though she was trying to grab the steering wheel from the now “dead” Jim.

When they hit the rotted beam at the end of the pier, they received quite a jolt.  Another sound jolt reached them when the car struck the water several feet below at a slight angle to the left.  Due to the extra speed Jim had put on as they raced down the pier, the car was only slightly nose down when they hit, and soon leveled out as they settled toward the bottom.

As the water started pouring into the car, Holly was surprised at how cold it was and also how fast the car was filling up.  Long before they hit bottom, she had her facemask on and was fingering her mouthpiece nervously, forgetting to unhook her seat belt as Jim had told her.

Jim took off his seat belt, put his facemask on, and grabbed the mesh bag.  When the car settled on the bottom, the water was chin high and Jim nodded.  “Okay, Holly, get ready to put your mouthpiece in.  Remember, breath nice and slow.”

Holly said nothing, but with growing dread, she slipped the mouthpiece in and started breathing.  When the water was over their heads, they both opened their doors.  Jim eased out, but Holly, having forgotten to unbuckle her seat belt, started to panic when she couldn’t move.  Frantically she tugged on the seat belt, losing all sense or reason.  The only bit of sanity still left in her told her to keep the mouthpiece in her mouth and breathe.  The more she struggled, the more desperate she became.

Not seeing Holly on the other side of the car, Jim looked back inside and saw Holly’s dilemma. With calm but slightly hurried action, Jim pushed the clasp button on her seat belt and gently pulled her out his side of the car.  Feeling her tenseness, Jim gave her a hug, rubbed her back a bit, and started swimming toward the pier, with Holly in tow.

When Jim felt Holly’s muscles loosen a bit, he turned her loose and she started swimming after him.  Holly, still quite nervous, but back in control, thought to herself, “This is the last time I’m going into the water in a car….ever!  What a stupid idea!  I ought to kill Jim—except, of course, he just saved my life.”

When they reached the pier, they made their way over to the ladder and surfaced.  Both spit out their mouthpieces and took off the facemasks.  Jim climbed up a few steps of the ladder and found it quite solid.  He then eased back down to Holly and whispered, “You okay?”

“Yes…now.  Thanks to you,” Holy whispered back.

Jim patted her on the back, winked at her, and reached into the mesh bag, taking out the baggie with the Flasher.  As soon as he had it on, he said, “Hector.  Report, please.”

“The limo is gone, Billy is following.  Most of the other cars are pulling out as we speak.  Three guys are at the end of the pier, no doubt looking for air bubbles.”

“That’s the nice thing about the re-breathers—no air bubbles.”

“Still a few coming up from the car.   I see you down by the ladder.  If you hold on a sec, all the rest of the cars will be gone.  The three guys at the end of the pier have their backs to you.  As long as air bubbles keep coming up from the car, they will probably keep looking that way.  But when the bubbles end, their attention may divert.  Okay, last of the cars are gone.”

“Thanks for the report, Hector.  We’ll start up now.”

Jim climbed up a few steps, stopped to take out the baggie with the silenced Walther, tossed the baggie, put the gun in his belt, and started up the rest of the ladder.  A step from the top he looked down and saw Holly a few steps below.  He then rose up and saw the three lookouts, with their backs to him.  As he eased up onto the pier, he gently set down the mesh sack and glanced down to Holly.  She had now reached the last step, so he helped her quietly up onto the pier.

Once she was up, she found the baggie with her gun and took it out as Jim slowly started walking toward the three men in front of them.  About twenty feet from them, with Holly about six feet behind and to his right, Jim said, in Arabic, “Okay, gentlemen.  Don’t move or you’ll die.”

Without a second’s hesitation, all three men turned and reached for their guns.  Jim got off three shots from his gun.  The first hit the man on his left squarely in the chest.  Since his bullets were hollow points, this shot blew the man’s heart to pieces and he died almost instantly.  The second shot took the man in the middle in the stomach.  The third shot hit the man on the right in his right shoulder.  That man’s gun fell to the pier and the man grabbed his shoulder, where blood was pumping out at a rapid pace.

Still speaking Arabic as he walked up to the two living men, Jim growled, “I have a helicopter flying overhead.  You can be in a hospital in about five minutes.  If you aren’t, you’re going to bleed to death.  If you think Allah can wait for you a while longer, tell me what I want to know, right now, and you may live.  Where is that limo headed?” 

The man with the stomach wound shook his head and glared at Jim.  Jim looked at the other man and hoped he wasn’t quite as brave.  As he did, the man with the stomach wound sat in a growing pool of blood and keeled over, obviously dead.

Jim tilted his head toward the now second dead man.  “Your time is running out, also.  Where’s the limo headed?”

Before he too died, the man told Jim what he wanted to know.  Since Jim still had his headset on, Hector, who by now was in his car, nearing the end of the pier, heard.  “Know the spot, Jim.  Hold on while I check with my pilot on my other communications set and see if the path of the limo is consistent with what this guy just told you.”

 

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Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Assassin I Am (More Books) - Rosemary gets a grim job.



Today’s excerpt is from Assassin I Am, a standalone book, featuring some old friends, and a few new ones.  Rosemary starts to find out what she’s in for, but understands.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

Inside his office, the imam was led by Fred to the straight-backed, cushioned chair behind his desk.  Fred duct taped his arms to the arms of the chair.  His legs were taped to the chair, which had four coasters.  Rosemary came in at that point and nodded.  Fred growled at the imam, “Stay put—don’t even blink.”

Then he led Rosemary from the room.  “Got a grisly detail for you, hon.”

As he spoke, he took a machete from the sheath attached to his leg.  “I want you to chop off the heads of those five guys and place them on the railing in that big room, where we killed the last three.  I know its nasty work, but Harvey and I came up with a plan some time ago to foster distrust between various terrorist groups—in particular, al-Qaida and ISIS.  Since our new President authorized the ground attack on ISIS, they have been greatly degraded.  But they’re still around, and trying to make a comeback in Sudan.  Those two outfits have never really hit it off, as each wants to be the top dog in the Islamist movement.”

“I get it—you’re gonna blame this attack on ISIS somehow, and cutting off heads is their trademark.”

“Go to the head of the class.  Now I better get back inside, and start working on that jackass.”

Rosemary felt her stomach grumble at the thought of what she was about to do, but she could see the value of it.  Without reply, she turned and set off to do what had been asked of her.  This time she (correctly) didn’t think it was a test—it just needed to be done, to add to the plan.

By the time she finished, Fred was nearly finished with the imam.  It had only taken him about ten minutes to make the man terrified of him, and he was certain that what he had been told was the truth.  Maybe not the entire truth, but most of what Fred wanted and felt he needed.  If nothing else, he had a new lead on the al-Qaida bombmaker, Samir al-Houthi, the person he had come to St. Louis to find in the first place.

Rosemary walked in, put the machete on the desk in front of the imam, and asked, “Has he been a good boy—or do I have to chop off his damned head, too?”

The imam looked at the machete, the blood adorning it, and threw up as Fred answered, “So far—I think.”

 

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Monday, June 20, 2016

Escape From Mexico (More Books) - Another hit team bites the dust.




Today’s excerpt is from Escape From Mexico, a standalone book, featuring some old friends, and a few new ones.  Drug kingpin “Z” loses another hit team.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

When far enough from the scene, to avoid being heard, Clyde whispered, “I’m thinking the one in the tree is Maduro…with rifle.  The guy nearest the road has a rocket launcher; the other one an RPG.”

“Agreed.  My guess is they plan to let the two SUVs pass, then hit ‘em from both directions.  The ones down by Jim and Holly will aim for the first one, while these guys hit the one in the rear.  No problem setting up to take out those two, then making a try at getting Maduro alive.  We’ve got all kinds of questions we should ask him.  You want the one with the RPG, or the rocket launcher?”

“I’ll take the rocket man, Bob—you get the RPG.  Then you hit Maduro in the foot, and I’ll separate him from his rifle.”

“Done deal.  Let’s move on back in and let everyone know when it’s showtime.  No need to bother Lloyd and risk them getting shot up.”

“Just what I was thinking.  If you agree, Jim, give us a thump.”

After Jim thumped his comm set, Bob and Clyde selected good shooting positions.  When they got there, Bob looked at Clyde, who nodded.

Bob whispered, “Showtime, boys and girl,” then squeezed off his killing shot, taking out the man with the rocket launcher. 

All four on the team had silenced rifles.  Clyde shot at the same time as Bob, and Maduro didn’t even know he was now alone in the immediate area—but soon found out.

Before he knew, however, Jim and Holly had been busy, too.  By agreement, Jim took out the man with the rocket launcher in their area, while Holly did the same to the man with the RPG.  The man in the tree happened to be looking down at the man with the rocket launcher as he slumped down in death.  He whispered, “What in the…?”

The word “hell” never escaped his lips, as Jim’s second shot ended his life.  The other man didn’t even hear the few words the partners had whispered, because Holly had already shot and killed him.

Maduro did hear—but as he did, he received a shot in the bottom of one of his feet, while his sniper rifle was hit and knocked from his hands.  Clyde yelled, “Hey, asshole—you’re alone now.  Come on down the tree without nonsense, or you’ll come down dead.”

Maduro heard, but couldn’t see Clyde.  But since his foot hurt and his rifle was gone, he decided his sidearm would just stay where it was.  He yelled back, “Okay, I surrender.  I’m coming down.”

As he started down, he forgot about the wounded foot and put his weight on it on the second limb below him.  He screamed out in pain, lost his balance, and came tumbling down.

Jim growled into his comm set, “We’re done here.”

Bob muttered, “Aw, shit,” then added, “Not directed at you, Jim.  We’re pretty sure the guy in the tree was Maduro…and he just fell all the way down.  Heading toward him now.”

Jim replied, “That situation is worth an ‘aw, shit’, I’d say.  We’ll hang out here, waiting to hear from you.”

Bob hurried to Maduro while Clyde went to check on the other two, to make sure they were dead.  Jim and Holly were also checking on their four bodies when Bob swore, then added, “The bastard is dead—and it is Maduro.”

Jim muttered, “Scratch one potential good source of information.  Tough luck, fellas.  Someone besides me is gonna call Glenn with the news, though.”

 

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Friday, June 17, 2016

Monster's Palace (Other Books) - Jo plans to go on run if needed.



Today’s excerpt is from Monster’s Palace, a standalone book, featuring Clyde Feegle, some old friends, and a few new ones.  Jo Kelly discovers she has been unwittingly helping a drug operation and makes plans to disappear if the need ever arose.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

However, Jo was not ready to forget the situation, nor the potential long-term problem she might have due to it.  Yet that day she started making plans to disappear from sight.  One of her customers was a big-time New York Irish mob chieftain.  He had purchased several of her less expensive pieces for his wife.  While not friends, they had a very agreeable relationship.  Thus, after she closed up shop for the day, she flew her own plane up to New York.

Once there she went to an address she had shipped a few heavier items to for the mobster.  The address was an Irish pub in New York City.  She went there, and was quite pleased to see her customer in a corner booth with three other men.  She approached and waited to be summoned forward, after two men had intercepted her.

When alone with the man, she got right to the point.  “I may have a problem, causing me to vanish.  Can you help me with false papers under a new identity?  I’ll pay the going rate.”

When asked what the problem was, she politely declined to discuss it.  The mobster agreed to help her with the papers, which would include a passport.  He arranged for a picture-taking session with a D.C. photographer, so she would not have to return to New York.  He also told her he would personally bring the completed items to her store.

On her return to Washington, Jo thought about appearance.  She purchased a black wig with a pageboy look, to cover her auburn, nearly shoulder length hair.  To hide her own hair under the wig, she worked on it until it all fit underneath.  Satisfied—if not happy with the look—she put the wig away until time to visit the photographer.

While waiting for the finished papers to be delivered, Jo made two trips out of the country, to arrange things for her “escape plan.”  Her store was open five days a week, Tuesday thru Saturday.  The trips were taken on the next two Sundays and Mondays.

When the Irish mobster delivered her new passport and other items, she was quite pleased, and paid the requested amount, surprised it hadn’t cost more.  While in the store, the mob boss looked at a few items, picked them up, and set them on the counter.  He handed her the money she had just given him. 

Jo took the money, counted out a fair price for the items selected, and handed the rest back to the Irishman.  “Thanks, but fair is fair.  I have an idea what you gave me is more costly than I paid.  Let’s not compound it by you overpaying for these items.  While nice, they are not worth all of what I just gave you.”

“You’re quite a lass, Jo.  I like you—especially with a last name like Kelly.  You are Irish, are you not?”

“Yup, through and through.  I like you, too.  Enough not to overcharge you, even if I did underpay you for the passport and stuff.  At least I paid full price for the pictures, didn’t I?”

“Almost.  As you wish.  I’ll keep the rest of the money, and take my purchases so you can get on with your day.  Before I do, are you sure there is nothing else I can do for you?  I have friends here in the D.C. area.”

“No.  But thank you.”

 

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Thursday, June 16, 2016

Back To China (Other Books) - Jim plans the rescue.



Today’s excerpt is from Back To China, a standalone Jim Scott book, featuring Jim, some old friends, and a newer one.  Jim decides the best way to get two kidnapped scientists back from China is to rescue them by first parachuting out of a B-2 at 30,000 feet.  Enjoy and have a fantastic day.

m.j.

 

While Tony and Hector were making their calls, the President had spoken to the Wing Commander at Whiteman Air Force Base.  He told him he was to take any requests from Jim Scott as having come from him directly.  He also informed the Wing Commander the phone he was using was on speakerphone.

After the Wing Commander reluctantly agreed, Jim got right to the point of the call.  “Sir, I’ve got a couple of questions for you.  Is it possible to bail out of one of your B-2s?  I mean, is it feasible for someone other than the pilots in an abandoning mode.”

“While the A/C wasn’t designed with that in mind, with some temporary modifications in the bomb bay, it can probably be done with reasonable risks—depending on numbers of people and amount of support equipment.  How many and how much do you have in mind?”

“There will be four of us.  Could you accommodate that many in the bomb bay, with the necessary support and survival equipment for a drop from 30K.”

“I suppose it could be done—and before you ask, we could probably keep you from freezing to death before dropping you.  We would also rig communication between you and the flight crew.  Do you mind if I ask why you would take this type of risk?”

Jim explained about the two kidnapped physicists and what they had been working on before being captured by the Chinese, then added, “Timing is of the essence.  It is our judgment that they must be rescued within twenty-four hours, to keep what they know from being bled from them.  What we plan is for the four of us doing the jump to rescue them, then be picked up by a C-130 already in route to the area.  We have GPS on the exact location of the facility where they are being held—it’s in Qinghai Province.”

“Whew.  We’ll make it work, Mr. Scott.  When do I expect you?”

“One member of the team is arriving via car.  His name is Bob Becker.  Please have him met at the front gate and brought to you.  The other three of us will be arriving on the fastest plane available at Andrews.  I hope to leave within the next half hour.  Have a couple more requests.  In addition to the thermal gear you’ll come up with to keep us from freezing to death, we will need black—or black and dark green—camos, with a yellow star on a red field on the left chest.  We’ll also need some sort of Chinese-looking hat with the same logo on the hat.  Can do?”

“We’ll get what you want together, somehow.  Anything else?”

“How are you at praying?”   

 

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Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Pool Of Blood, Book #3 of the Becker Trilogy - Jim thinks he knows who may be behind assassination attempt.



Today’s excerpt is from Pool Of Blood, Book #3 of the Becker Trilogy.  Jim has zeroed in on likely suspect behind the attempt on Michelle’s life.  Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

m.j.

 

Michelle nodded and food was quickly being prepared.  As they all ate, Jim brought them up-to-speed on how his research was going.  “Okay, first off…on Clinton.  I’ve gotten nowhere.  He seems to have vanished into the nether.  On the shot at Michelle, I did further research on the top five guys on my list.  The top one—this Henry Hoyer fella—seems a very likely candidate.  Now the trick is to prove it if it was him.  I managed to get his financials, and there was a nice fat transfer of two hundred and fifty grand into a numbered account on the Caymans.  Took a bit of time to track down whose account it was, but found that it belongs to one Richard Newton. 

“Newton has a past.  Said past includes suspicion of several killings nobody has ever been able to prove up.  Interpol is quite interested in him on a number of those killings.  Nothing here in America that anybody knows about, or even real suspicions.  About all I could find out about him is he’s American, got booted out of the Army, and spent a good portion of his life afterwards in Europe.  No record of him being in the country, as we speak.  Does seem like a good match…him and Hoyer.  Michelle, you remember Hoyer?  Saw him on your list.”

“Yes, I remember him, and the case.  Without going into a lot of detail, the case cost him a ton, and he was plenty pissed.  Gave me a real hard look as he left court with his attorney.”

Jim nodded.  “Okay, let’s concentrate on him…without losing sight of the possibility of it having to do with Lorri approaching you.  Bob, I’m thinking a bit of shadowing him is in order.  I’ve got his address.  What say you and I make a early morning—sometime around two or three—visit to plant some listening and video feeds at his place?”

“Sounds good.  Holly going with us?”

“Only to watch our backs.  She can drive and dump us off, then make sure nobody climbs up said backs.  I’ve got the stuff we’ll need on the plane.  We’ll get it later.  Best alert Bill to what we’re gonna be up to, so he can be alert to watch your home while we’re all gone.”

Michelle grinned, “Bob’s got me trained to man the gun ports.  Between him and Holly, I’ve become a pretty good shot…haven’t I, Bob?”

“Very good, dear.  More thanks to Holly than to me.  So thanks, Holly.”

“You’re welcome.  Glad you’re over worrying about me carrying my own weight on tomorrow morning’s deal.”

Bob sighed, shook his head, but made no comment, as he continued to eat.  On a matter Jim, Bob, and Holly had worked together on (along with others), Bob at first had questioned if Holly should join the other—male—members of the team.  He no longer had any doubts about Holly’s capabilities.

 

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Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Bigfoot Bait, Book #2 of the Beckeer Trilogy - Dan and Janet get some grub for the troops.



Today’s excerpt is from Bigfoot Bait, Book #2 of the Becker Trilogy.  Dan and Janet buy food to take to the others, who spent the night in the forest.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

Janet nodded as she walked off.  She looked around for something to cook what she’d left on the counter.  She happened to look up at two things of interest hanging on the wall, but did nothing about her sighting as she found disposable salt and pepper shakers, as well as hot sauce.  After adding those items to those on the counter, she walked back to the wall where she had spied the two items of interest.  One was an old-fashioned iron skillet; the other was a cutting board.  Janet reached up, took the two items off the wall, and carried them back to the counter.

The old man looked at them and shook his head.  “Those ain’t for sale, young lady.”

Undeterred, Janet reached into the money belt she wore, took out five crisp new one hundred dollar bills, and laid them on the counter.  “How about five hundred for the two of ‘em?”

“I reckon I can do that.  But I gotta tell you—if the young fella who should be workin’ instead of callin’ in sick was here, I’d kick his ass if he sold ‘em to you.  Cost part of that five hundred bucks to repaint the wall.  In case you didn’t notice, they been there a while.  The paint underneath where they were is brighter than the rest of it.”

“Yeah—I noticed.  You own this place?”

“Yup.  But not for lack of trying to sell out, so I can retire proper.  I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I’m nearin’ ninety.  The fella who works days for me wants to buy me out, but the bank won’t lend him the money.  We’re trying to figure somethin’ out, but haven’t yet.”

“Hmmm…I’ve got an idea, but will need to talk to my husband about it.  In the meantime, how much for the rest of this?  Hold on…I forgot to get more thermoses.  Add three of the large ones to this stuff, along with coffee to fill ‘em…and the one my husband will be bringing, if he ever gets here.”

Dan, walking up behind Janet—and knowing she saw him pull the car up in front of the store—just sighed.  “I’m here, twit…with the thermos, I might add.”

Janet grinned, then introduced herself and Dan before the owner introduced himself.  That taken care of, Janet pointed to where the thermoses were.  “Grab three of those, darling.  Might fill all four up, when you have nothing better to do.”

The owner looked at Dan.  “Not only is your lovely wife easy on the eyes, she’s a bit sassy, too.  Sorta like that in a woman—reminds me of mine.”

Dan just grunted as he went to grab three of the new thermoses.  As he did, the owner pointed at a sink near the large old-fashioned coffee urn.  “Might want to rinse those out before you fill ‘em up.”

Dan mumbled to himself as he took all four thermoses to the sink to wash them out.

While he was doing that, Janet paid for everything.  As Dan started taking things to the car, Janet asked for the name of the daytime clerk who wanted to buy the station and store, as well as the phone number of the owner. 

After giving her the information, the owner asked, “You got something up your sleeve besides your arm?”

“Maybe.  I’ll get in touch with you, if so.  By the way…you’re such a nice guy, hold up on the paint job.  When we’re finished with the skillet and cutting board, I’ll wash ‘em up and bring ‘em back to you.” 

“Now that’s a deal I like the sound of.  You pay me five hundred bucks for rental fee.  Hell of a deal.  Gonna have to tell my clerks how much I made extra by cunning salesmanship.  Though I gotta admit, you and your husband eat all those vittles, I might never see you again.  An awful lot for two people.”

“Well, Mr. Nosey, it isn’t for just us.  We’re meeting some friends in the forest.”

“Have a good time.  Don’t let Bigfoot get you.”

As Dan came in for more to take to the car, Janet was roaring with laughter.  She stopped as she looked at her husband.  “I’ll bring what you don’t get this trip.  I’ve just been warned to be careful Bigfoot doesn’t get us.”

 

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