You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card authors are:
and the book:
B&H Books (July 1, 2012)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Jeff Struecker was born in Fort Dodge, Iowa. At age 18, he enlisted the US Army as an infantryman and retired as a Chaplain with over 22 years of active federal service. He currently serves as Associate Pastor of Ministry Development at Calvary Baptist Church in Columbus, GA. Throughout his career Jeff has attended numerous professional military schools and has received many awards and commendations. His combat experience includes participation in Operation Just Cause in Panama, Operation Iris Gold in Kuwait, Operation Gothic Serpent, in Mogadishu, Somalia, and multiple tours in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, and Operation Iraqi Freedom. Jeff holds a Master of Divinity Degree from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky, a Bachelor of Science Degree and Associate of Science Degree from Troy University in Alabama. Jeff and his wife, Dawn, have five children: Aaron, Jacob, Joseph, Abigail and Lydia.Visit the author's website.
Alton L. Gansky is the author of 23 novels and 7 nonfiction works, as well as principle writer of 7 novels and 2 nonfiction books. He has been a Christie Award finalist (A Ship Possessed) and an Angel Award winner (Terminal Justice). He holds a BA and MA in biblical studies. He lives in central California with his wife.
Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Amelia Lennon no longer wears a uniform or carries a weapon. An Army trained Foreign Affairs Officer, she's negotiating a dispute with the Kyrgyzstan government that threatens to leave the U.S. without an airbase in that region. She traded her gun for the power of words, but now she needs both. While following her government contact-Jildiz Oskonbaeva, the lawyer daughter of Kyrgyzstan's president-Amelia witnesses an attempt to abduct her. She manages to prevent the kidnapping, but now the two women are on the run in a city that's erupting into chaos.
Master Sergeant J.J. Bartley is the Special Operations team leader tasked to rescue Amelia and Jildiz. With two new members in his unit-one with a secret that could endanger everyone's life-J.J. must soldier his unit through crazed mobs intent on overthrowing the government. Back home, his pregnant wife is misinformed that her husband and the team have been killed. But before this is over, Bartley will find out that's the least of his problems.
List Price: $14.99
43.050278°N
74.469444°E
Transit
Center
at
Manas
(formerly
Manas
Air
Base),
outside
Bishkek,
Kyrgyzstan
June
6
The
mess
hall
was
deserted.
Master
Sergeant
J.J.
Bartley
sat alone
at
a
long,
well-worn
table
that
had
seen
thousands
of airmen,
soldiers,
and
marines
pause
from
their
work
long enough
to
pound
down
some
grub
before
returning
to
their duties.
On
the
table
rested
a
chipped
plastic
coffee
cup
and two
file
folders.
The
expansive
room
seemed
twice
the
size
J.J. remembered
the
last
time
he
passed
through
the
air
base.
Of
course
the
room
was
full
of
hungry
service
men
then,
many headed
to
Afghanistan.
That
was Manas’s
primary
role
over
the last
decade:
the
jumping-off
spot
for
troops
headed
to
hostile country.
As
an
Army
ranger
he
did
two
tours
of
duty
in Afghanistan before
being
hand-selected
by
Sergeant
Major
Eric
Moyer
to be
part
of
a
unique
spec
ops
team.
He
made
several
other
missions
into
the
country
as
part
of
that
squad,
including
one
he was
sure
would
be
his
last
moment
on
earth.
As
it
turned
out, a
pair
of
F-18s
came
to
the
rescue
of
the
six-man
unit
as
they fought
off
overwhelming
numbers
of
Taliban
fighters
advanc-
ing
on
their
position.
The
jet
jockeys
saved
their
lives
by
drop-
ping
a
pair
of
ICM
bombs
on
their
location.
The
(Improved
Conventional
Munition)
bombs
exploded
fifteen
feet
above
their
heads
leaving
the
ground
littered
with
dead
Taliban
and
a ringing
in J.J.’s
ears
that
took
a
week
to
go
away.
That
seemed
a
lifetime
ago.
Since
then, as
the sniper
and
explosives
expert
for
his
team,
he
traveled
to
a dozen
different
places
on
the
planet,
none
of
which
he
was
allowed
to
name
and
carried
out
missions
he
was
forbidden
to
speak about.
“Stare
all
you
want,
Boss,
but
that
coffee
ain’t
going
to
do any
tricks.”
J.J.
didn’t
have
to
look
up
to
know
Jose
“Doc”
Medina
was approaching.
He
raised
his
gaze
anyway
and
returned
the
med- ic’s
smile. Jose
was
a
solid
man
with
a
keen
mind,
quick
humor,
and
a
admirable
steadiness.
If
the
sky
were
to
rip
in
half
and
a million
aliens
ships
from
another
dimension
appeared
ready
to take
over
the
world,
J.J.
was
sure
Jose
would
look
up
and
say,
“Well,
look
at
that.
A
man
doesn’t
see
that
every
day.”
J.J.
liked the
man
for
another
reason.
In
addition
to
his
being a
superior soldier
he
also
saved
J.J.’s
life
after
a
gun
battle.
He
owed
the man
several
pizza’s
for
that.
“Hey
Doc,
where
you
been?”
“They
have
a
great
rec.
hall
here.
I
was
shooting
pool
with the
Air
Force
guys.”
He
pulled
out
a
chair
and
sat.
“All
in
the
name
of inter-service
fun,
no
doubt.”
J.J.
lifted his
cup.
The
coffee
was
cold.
“Of
course.
You
know
I believe
we
should
respect
all branches
of
the
military,
even
the
inferior,
less
skilled
ones.”
“How
much?”
“Huh?”
“You
heard
me.”
Jose
shrugged.
“Maybe
a
couple
of
twenties.”
“Total?”
“Each.”
Jose
pretended
to
look
guilty.
“How
many
airmen
did
you
fleece?”
“Oh,
who
keeps track
of
such
things?
I
was
just
killing time.”
J.J.
narrowed
his
eyes. “Okay,
just
four.
My
conscious
was
beginning to
bother me.”
“Lucky
for
them.”
He
put
the
cup
down.
“Seen
Pete
and
Crispin?”
“Not
since
Crispin
gave
his
little
demonstration.
He
did
a good
job.
I
was
impressed
and
I’ve
seen
his
tech
kung-fu
in
the field.
All
those
itty-bitty surveillance
drones
were
a
hit.
Left
the local
tech
boys
drooling.”
“Yeah,
I
was
there,
but
I
haven’t
seen
them since.”
“Do
you
need
them. I’ll
go
round
‘em
up.”
“Nah.
Just
as
long
as
they’re
front-and-center
when
the
new
guys
arrive.”
“Ah,
that’s
it.”
J.J.
cocked
his
head.
“What’s
it?”
“You
look
down,
Boss,
like
you’ve
lost
your
favorite
girl friend.”
“My
favorite
girlfriend.
You
know
I’m
married.
Tess
won’t
let
me
have
girlfriends.”
Jose
slumped
in
his
chair.
“Wives
are
funny
that
way.
My
wife
won’t
let
me
date
either.”
He
paused
to
let
the
quip
die before
establishing
a
more
somber
tone.
“I
miss
them too.”
“I
didn’t
say
anything
about
missing
anyone.”
“I
was
listening
to
your
face.”
“Sometimes
you
confuse
me,
Doc.”
Jose
chuckled.
“You
know
what
they say
about
Hispanics: we’re
inscrutable.”
“I
thought
that
referred
to
Asians
in old
movies.”
“Eh,
Asians,
Hispanics,
whatever.”
Another
pause.
“You’re
thinking
about
Boss
and
Shaq.”
“They’re
home
safe
and
sound.
I’m
not worried
about them.”
Images
of
the
team’s
former
leader
and
second-in-com- mand strobed
in his
mind. Last
he
saw
them, they
looked
well
and
happy.
He
could
hardly
tell
both
were
severely
wounded and
the
latter
lost an
eye.
Both
retired
shortly
after the
mission in eastern
Siberia
and
took
jobs
with
a
civilian
security
firm.
“I
didn’t
say
you
were
worried
about
them.
I
think
you’re
worried
because
they’re
not
here.
You
went
from
team
mem-
ber
to
Boss
in
short
order.
There’s
gotta
be
some
psychological
whiplash
in that.”
“Psychological
whiplash?
They
teach
you
that
at
Fort
Sam Houston?”
“Nope.
Medic
training
taught
me
many
things
but
not much
psychology.
Life,
on
the
other
hand,
has
taught
me
a ton.”
“Okay,
Doc.
What’s
eating
me?”
Jose
sat
up
and
leaned
forward
on
the
table.
“Nothing
bad, Boss.
You’re
just
being
human.”
“I
don’t
think
I’ll
ever
get
used
to
being
called
Boss.
Every
time
someone
calls
me
that
I
think
of
Moyer.”
“You’ll
get
the
hang
of
it.”
Jose paused.
“Can
we
talk
like
a couple
of
old
buddies?”
“That’s
what
we
are,
Jose.”
“Well,
at
least
in
here.
Anyone
else
walks
in
this
room
and
I’ll
go
back
to
being
formal.”
The
corner
of
J.J.’s
mouth
inched
up.
“You
have
a
formal side?”
“I’m
nothing
if
not
a
model
of
Army
decorum.”
He
inched closer
to
the
table
as
if
he
were
about
to
whisper
a
secret.
His
volume
remained
the
same.
“Okay,
here’s
how
I
see
it.
We
are
creatures
of
training.
We
enlist
and
start
at
the
lowest
rank.
Time
in
service
and
experience
lead
to
promotions.
We
have
a
good
idea
how
that’s
going
to
progress.
You’ve
just
been
pushed
up
the ladder
faster
than
expected.
The
view
is
different
up
there.”
“True.”
“So
now
you’ve
be
selected
to
take
over
for
a
man
we
admire
and
respect.
He’s
a
one
in
a
million.
He’s
got
it
all:
brains, courage,
loyalty,
and
a
soldier’s
sixth
sense.
He
left
under
tough circumstances.
Nearly
lost
his
daughter
to
kidnappers
trying
to sway
him
in
his
mission.
Took
a
beating.
Nearly
died.
To
hear him
tell
it,
he
did
die
and
came
back.
His
cover
was
blown
so his
usefulness
as
field
operative
was
gone
and
that’s
all
he
ever
wanted
to
do.”
“He
is
a
great
man.
Taught
me
more
about
soldiering
than basic,
AIT,
and
Ranger
training
combined.”
A
wave
of
sadness ran
over
J.J.
“I
can’t
be
Eric
Moyer,
Doc.
In
my
mind,
he
will always
be
Boss.”
“But
he’s
not
J.J.
He
was
team
leader.
Now
you’re
the
man.
No
one
is
asking
you
to
be
Eric
Moyer.
The
Army—the team—wants
you
to
be
you.”
“Is
that
enough?”
Jose
straightened
and
stared
into
J.J.’s
eyes.
“It
is
in
my book.”
“It’s
not
that
I’m
afraid—”
“You’d
better
be
afraid.
I
don’t
trust
a
man
who
says
he’s
not afraid.
Such
men
are
either
liars
or
lunatics.”
J.J.
raised
an
eyebrow.
“Really?
And
which
am
I?”
“You’re
neither.
I’ve
seen
you
afraid
and
you’ve
never
been braver.
You
can
do
this,
J.J.
I got
your
six.
You
know
that.
Pete
danced
a
jig
when
he
heard
of
your
promotion.
At
least I
think it
was
a
jig.
The
man
has
no
rhythm.”
J.J.
laughed.
“You
got
that
right.
First
time
I
saw
him
bust
a move
I
thought
he
was
being
electrocuted.”
Jose
chuckled
then
the
grin
evaporated.
“Seriously
J.J.,
I’m
proud
to
follow
you
into battle.
Don’t
doubt
yourself
and
don’t
doubt
us.
Besides,
if
you
screw
up,
Moyer
will
kick
your
butt then
turn
on
me
for
not
straightening
you
out.”
“There’s
a
terrifying
thought.”
J.J.
gazed
into the
black fluid
in
his
cup.
More
than
self
doubt
was
eating
at
him
but
he endured
all
the
pep
talk
he
could.
Jose
seemed
to
sense
it.
“You
happy
with
the
new
guys?”
The
medic
motioned
to the
personnel
jackets.
“Yeah,
as
much
as
I
can
be.
It’s
hard
to
judge
a
man’s
char- acter
from
notes
on
evaluation
forms.
Both
are
experienced and
decorated.
Seen
lots
of
action,
mostly
in
the
last
half
of Iraq
and
in
the
wind
down
of
Afghanistan.
Both
Rangers.
One
comes
in
at the same
rank
as
me:
Master
Sergeant.
He’s
got
six months
on
me
as
well.”
“Doesn’t
matter,
J.J.,
you’re
team
leader.
He’ll
know
that.”
“He’ll
also
know
that
I
was
frocked.
I
have
the
extra
stripe
but
not
the
official
promotion
and
pay.”
“It’s
just a
matter
of time,
J.J.
You
know
once
there’s
some head
room,
you’ll
get
the
full
promotion
and
maybe
more.
It’s
all
a
numbers
game.
There
are
scores
of
soldiers
work-
ing
at
a
higher
rank
than
the
Army
is
allowed
to
give
them. Functionally,
you’re
the
man,
and
I’ll
fight
with
any
man
who disagrees.”
“You’re
a
pal,
but
you
may
want
to
hold
on
to
the boast
for awhile.”
“Why?”
“You’ll
see.”
The
door
to
the
mess
hall
opened
and
a
skinny
airman stepped
into
the
dim
space,
saw
them,
then
walked
to
the table.
“Master
Sergeant
Bartley.
I’ve
been
asked
to
tell
you
the transport
plane
you’ve
been
waiting
for
has
touched
down.
It’s
pulling
to
the
tarmac
now.”
J.J.
glanced
at
the
rank
insignia
on
the
man’s
upper sleeve:
one
strip
and
an
Air
Force
star
in
a
circle.
“Thank
you,
Airman. I
would
like
to
meet
the
plane.
Can you
get
me
there?”
“I
was
told
to
have
a
vehicle
waiting.”
J.J.
stood,
lifted
the
cold
coffee
to
his
lips
and
drank.
He
grimaced.
“Where
did
the
Air
Force
learn
to
make
coffee?”
“Figures.”
He
set
the
cup
down.
“Gather
the
team,
Doc.”
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