You see, you’re the kind of person that doesn’t care much about roses and cards.
No, to you the perfect Valentine would be those Boko Haram bastards dead, and the 276 Nigerian schoolgirls they kidnapped back in their homes. And this asshole’s head on a pike is something you’d like to see:
I’d like to add that the main characters – an ‘elite’ Special Forces team led by Sheila Durand, and which will appear in many of my upcoming novels – make their debut appearance in this book. You don’t want to miss this!
Please download a copy this weekend, read the hell out of it, and then write a world-class review.
The others looked to Virgil, and it was clear Sheila’s words weren’t getting through to him. Checkpoints weren’t anyone’s favorite thing, that was for sure, but Virgil just happened to like them less than most. He’d lost four iPhones, two iPods, a Virginia pocketknife, $327.28 and one wallet. It’d been that last that’d stung the most, not because of the money it’d contained – that one had had but $14 when it was confiscated – but because of something else, the last picture on earth that Virgil had had of Patty Lamarrs, the hottest piece of ass that Rotura Central High had ever seen, and the personification to Virgil of the ultimate ‘one that got away.’
It was with great trepidation, therefore, that the others got out of the car and watched as Virgil was brought over to the side of the road. They were watching a man ready to snap, and they all knew it. All, that is, but the guards.
“ID!” the first guard barked out in a heavy Central-African accent, something he’d said to all the others as well.
“Fuck!” Virgil shouted. “You bastards have my ID! You have it the same place you’ve got my electronics and my money and my Goddamn picture of Patty Lamarrs!”
The guard nodded over at two of his companions, men with semi-automatic weapons. They began to walk forward.
“Fuck,” Mathis said under his breath.
“Got your snub-nose?” Sheila whispered to Antoine at her side.
“Think I’m crazy? Of course I fucking have it!” the IT man said.
Sheila laughed. “No, just–”
Her words were interrupted as Virgil shouted.
The others watched in wide-eyed horror as he pushed one of the advancing guards away, kicked the machine gun from another’s hands, then reached for his pocket.
“Fuck!” Mathis said again, this time shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes.
Ahead of them Virgil pulled out his .45 and smiled a wicked grin as he took aim and fired. He hit the guard he’d first pushed, the one with the machine gun still in his hands. The man went down with a bullet in his stomach, squealing like a pig.
Virgil turned his attention back to the man whose gun he’d kicked clean from his hands. The man’s weapon was on the ground, too far away for him to reach. Instead he grabbed the lone grenade strapped to his chest and pulled the pin.
“Virgil, no!” Sheila shouted.
It was too late. Virgil fired right as the man pulled the pin. The force of the bullet sent the man flying back a couple feet, right toward Antoine and Ben. They rushed to get out of the way at the same time the man hit the ground and the grenade went off.
“Aaahhh!” Antoine shouted as he was blown several feet by the blast.
“Fuck!” Virgil said as he lowered his arm from his head.
Ahead of him was a small crater, a few feet from it the torso of the guard that’d pulled the grenade. He couldn’t see the man’s lower-half anywhere. A few feet back was Antoine’s leg, again, no sight of his body either.
“Fuck!” Sheila shouted as she got up from where she’d dove to the ground. She was bleeding slightly from quite a few shrapnel wounds.
“You fucking idiot!” Mathis said, rushing up to Virgil and hitting him across the head.
“Where’s Antoine?” Sheila shouted.
“There,” Murray said from the side of the truck, pointing several feet away. The others looked and saw the uranium plant’s chief IT man lying in a heap, his eyes wide in death.
“Ben?” Mathis said.
“There,” Virgil pointed, and the others looked to see the head Areva representative, or at least the few pieces of him that were discernable.
“Well that’s just fucking great!” Murray said. “Now what the hell are we supposed to do?”
Mathis shook his head. “Get on the phone and tell Washington we’ve got problems, that’s what!”