These are the untold stories that never made it into my book, Exile on Front Street. Are you interested in fiction built on facts, check out Marked. Available October
MARKED SNEEK PEEK...
A story of lies, loyalty, betrayal, and brotherhood
Sometime in the 1970s.
Early summer in the high desert of the Southwest.
Several hours had passed, and he had used the night landscape to occupy his time. The layers of the sun began revealing themselves as each second passed. It was one of the most beautiful sunrises he had seen in this lifetime, maybe in any lifetime.
The beauty of the desert is an experience that can change a man. The red hues of the rocks and cliffs, sculpted over millions of years. The big barrel cacti take the outline of bodies as the heat waves ripple upwards off their twisted forms.
The elements were starting to affect his body. The coolness of the evening was slipping away, replaced with that unforgiving oven that would bake for the next sixteen hours.
Thoughts swirled in his head. Jack knew a flash flood could change the landscape in one afternoon. What power nature had over Earth and man. But he also knew what power he held. He’d learned that fact after dispatching his first target as a U.S. Marine scout sniper. When this afternoon was over, he would have demonstrated it once again.
Jack was lucky; the layout allowed him to position himself on top of this old barn, so that the glass in the scope would not reflect off the rising sun. The rifle itself was good, but not outstanding. Nothing like a military sniper rifle you can draw from an armory.
In this type of operation, you don’t get that familiar with the gear. That’s because it wasn’t really an operation, it was a murder. You get your tools where you can and, if you’re smart, once they’re used, you get rid of them. As quickly as you can, and you do it yourself.
Jack took satisfaction in the fact that he had built the silencer himself. It was crafted out of tubing, washers, and steel wool, with a threaded spacer on one end to secure it to the barrel. He hung onto that thought and contemplated whether he had become a sociopath—proud that he had created this tool to aid him in destroying another human being.
His mind drifted to his parents, may they rest in peace. How they had insisted on his getting a higher level of education. If they hadn’t made such a fuss, there was a good chance he wouldn’t even know what a sociopath was.
But Jack pushed these ideas out of his head as fast as they entered. He knew the heat could put strange thoughts in a man’s mind, and that gave him some comfort.
"Marked" is my next book. A fictionalized account of my adventures. Here is a synopsis. Available: Preorder special, first 100 get a signed book and classic photo all for $15. Personalized upon request...