Plan B

By David N. Thomas II

It has been a year since the attack on Sarah Hayes by Felix Garcia. Now, while filming on location in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, Felix Garcia's Uncle has discovered their location and makes a move to extract his revenge by taking over the set and executing the cast and crew. Steven Thomas, with the aid of a group of Mexican Security Operatives, fights to keep them safe until help can arrive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David N. Thomas II
• Release date: Aug 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370209620

David N. Thomas II

My name is David N Thomas II and I retired from the U.S. Army as a Staff Sergeant in 2013 and am now living in Upstate New York. I spent 26 years in the Army both as an Infantryman and as a Chaplain's Assistant, and have had numerous security jobs since then. I enjoy travel, skiing, scuba diving and camping.

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Plan B

By David N. Thomas II

PLAN B

Published by David N. Thomas II at Draft2Digital

Copyright 2016 David N. Thomas II

This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage others to purchase their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support.

Acknowledgements

Writing has always been one of my favorite hobbies since I was in the sixth grade. I’ve always loved reading and, in turn, creating worlds and people to inhabit them. For a long time, while I was serving in the Army, I lost those creative juices and it wasn’t until the last few years, since I retired from Active Duty that my creativity and desire to write again has come back.

I would like to again thank my wonderful wife Carol Ann for supporting me during my career in the Army, through numerous deployments and many training exercises and since. She has truly been a blessing to me all these years.

My Mother Janice Thomas-Cordray has always been a big supporter of my creativity: whether it was painting, drawing or writing and I want to thank her for her encouragement to follow my creativity. It must be the Art Teacher and artist in her as well as her love to encourage me and put up with all of it!

To my Sister, Amity Thomas and all my family and friends: thank you for all of your support.

I’d like to again thank Chaplain (Lieutenant Colonel) Larry Woods for his support and encouragement with my writing and his constant push for me to get my work published as well as a creating a love of a good cigar.

I would like to thank my favorite writer David Morrell, the author who created the hero (or anti-hero) John Rambo many years ago that inspired the FIRST BLOOD movie series along with many other great thrillers. I had the honor of meeting him and several other writers in Basra, Iraq during a USO tour and have been fortunate enough to have been able to correspond with and get advice from him.

To the men and women of our Armed Forces: Active Duty, National Guard, and Reserves, retirees and veterans alike: I am proud to call all of you my Brothers and Sisters. Of them all, none more so than the men and women of the 10th Mountain Division and specifically, the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Infantry: the Triple Deuce. They are the epitome of professionalism and will always have a special place in my heart.

Authors Note

I would like to dedicate this book to my father: the late Jeffrey Nelmes Thomas. This story takes place in Puerto Vallarta: a town my father loved and I grew to love over numerous visits there with him and with my wife Carol Ann.

I did have to add certain things through necessity in order to write this story. There is no American Consulate in Puerto Vallarta as I have described it, merely a consular office that can aid tourists or expatriates living there.

I hope you enjoy PLAN B, I had fun writing it, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on it and on TARGETED SOLUTIONS through reviews or messages on my facebook pages.

PLAN B

By David N. Thomas II

CHAPTER ONE

What was it like to die?

That question had been haunting me the entire drive back to Sarah’s house.

What was it like to die? How was this different from what happened in Iraq?

The psychiatrist at the Veterans Clinic had been asking these questions for the last three months, kept trying to get me to talk about what had happened.

You know you can be honest here. He kept trying to reassure me with a concerned voice. You know how this works, Steven: you’ve been through this before.

Yes, but this was different. I’d finally told him. In Iraq when I thought I was dead I didn’t care because I’d just caused half my squad to get killed. I was trapped under the body of one of my men and unable to do anything to stop it from happening. Up there on that mountain I’d never felt so alone and scared. I was angry because I’d finally turned my life around and had been looking forward to the future I was being deprived of.

And how are you recovering physically from that day?

You mean having to walk with a fucking cane or having to wear these stupid hearing aids?

I spat the reply angrily.

I realize those are serious adjustments for you to have to make, Steven, especially in your line of work where you need to move quickly. There will always be a sense of frustration associated with using them that will take time to accept. How is Sarah handling all of this? You said before she tries to do more things for you and it makes you feel useless. Have you told her this yet?

I shook my head.

No, I don’t want to upset her. She only wants to help.

But, if it is upsetting you now, it’s only going to get worse later. You could have a blowout and lose everything you hold dear about her.

I was silent, contemplating his words.

I knew he was right. My mood swings had been getting worse and I was more irritable. I tried not to take it out on Sarah, but it did happen from time to time and I hated myself for it.

I know I need to. It just isn’t the right time.

It’s never the wrong time to explain what is going on. She loves you: she’ll understand, Steven. You could even bring her to one of our sessions and we could walk through it.

No, I don’t want her here with me. I had objected with a stern shake of my head. I’ll take care of it.

What about her nightmares? Is she still having them? You could always bring her in for a group session.

She’s seeing her own therapist. She doesn’t need to hear more about my Demon. She’s already seen what it’s capable of.

Your Demon, as you put it, saved a lot of lives Steven. he pointed out and I nodded with a sigh.

It also taught me something I didn’t want to accept.

Oh? And what was that?

That I missed combat. He nodded thoughtfully. I was at my best that day, right down to the minute I thought I died. I knew what I was doing and I had no problems killing. I embraced the rush and never felt more alive.

That is a common occurrence for Combat Veterans, Steven. You faced death and survived…it’s the ultimate game of chicken and nothing quite compares once you’ve played the game. You want to keep playing, stay in the thick of things.

Yes, that is right.

So how is this different from your feelings before? In Iraq and Afghanistan you were forced to kill as well.

Before we fought to accomplish certain objectives: ambush a group of insurgents, stopping a group of terrorists planning attacks, surviving ambushes. That was expected of me as a Ranger and as a Soldier. It was personal this time: I was killing to protect the woman I love. I was cool, calm and calculated and I intended to inflict as much damage as I was capable of in order to insure her survival and that of her co-workers.

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully then leaned forward.

Tell me something, Steven. After all that happened, what you and Sarah are going through right now: do you really believe either of you are emotionally ready for this interview? To talk about what happened to a reporter and then have to read about it in the papers? You have gone through a lot over the last two years.

I nodded slowly.

It needs to happen: We’ve been given an ultimatum by the studio to make it happen. The nice thing is that it isn’t a television interview: it will be with a newspaper reporter. There won’t be any lights, cameras and an invasion of Sarah’s home it will just be the two of us, the reporter and a photographer.

CHAPTER TWO

By the time I got back to Sarah’s house there was another car parked in the driveway area near the guest house: a dark blue Nissan sedan with tinted windows and a sunroof. The reporter was obviously here early and I pulled in beside the detached garage.

My new car was a Pepper White Mini Countryman with black racing stripes and a roof rack. It was an SUV version of the compact Mini Cooper with all wheel drive and other options I had asked for. I slid out of the seat, pulled out my cane and limped awkwardly to the front door.

I was reaching for the door knob when the door opened up and revealed Sarah dressed in blue jeans and a light blue blouse. I couldn’t help but smile: seeing her always causes my heart to race and I held her tight for several seconds, ending with a passionate kiss before I released her.

How did it go?

I sighed.

Not bad, talked more about Mexico, the nightmares…the usual.

Are you sure you’re up for this?

I’m fine with it: I’m more concerned about you.

I’ve been talking with him a little and I think we made the right choice.

Okay then, I supposed we’d better get on with it before it gets too late.

She nodded and turned to walk towards the kitchen. I watched her for a second before followed behind her.

A tall, lanky man stood up from the kitchen table and shook hands with me.

Mason Clarke. He had a slightly southern accent. It is a pleasure to finally meet you Mr. Thomas: I appreciate you both asking me to do this interview.

Mason Clarke worked for the LA Times

He was a tall, older gentleman of fifty-five. He had graying hair that still had a hint of brown; a long thin face that was tanned and large, sharp brown eyes that looked both intelligent and humorous. High cheekbones and an old, small scar over his right eye completed a handsome man who had been a reporter for nearly thirty years, covering war zones and a few other places that were less known but equally dangerous.

Steven Thomas. Thanks for agreeing to see us. We took the time to read some of your articles before we called you.

I appreciate that, I’ve done a bit of research myself. he said with a wide, toothy smile. My photographer assistant is outside taking some background shots…

…I’ll explain it to him, Mr. Clarke.

Sarah interrupted and turned me away from him for a moment.

He wants to take some glamour shots of the two of us and some with you in your gear: not what we’d agreed to. He kept insisting on and I got so upset that Mr. Clarke sent him outside to calm me down.

I’ll take talk to him. I told her in a soft voice and she nodded, hugging me for a moment. It will be just fine: no need for you to get any more upset.

Okay. she nodded and I wiped a tear from her eye. I was going to get us some drinks…

I’ll take care of that. I said more testily than I intended. I can still do that.

I know, I didn’t mean to… she started and I touched her lips tenderly with a finger. I’m sorry.

No need. I shook my head. This is my fault. I’m the sorry one.

I’m fine with the ice water, Mr. Thomas. Mason called out to us, Really: there is no need to get me anything more.

I noticed four plastic tumblers at the table mostly filled with ice water. I shrugged and Sarah took a seat across the table from Mason.

I limped around the end of the kitchen table and sat down beside Sarah, hooking my cane on the kitchen island by its handle. I try to avoid using it as much as possible but some days it can’t be helped. I hate having to rely on it and can’t wait for my leg to heal so I can get back into shape again.

We can always reschedule this if you’re not ready.

I’m ready. Sarah told him with a nod and looked over at me. We were given an ultimatum by the studio so we have no choice. There are a lot of rumors going around about what actually happened down there so we might as well set the record straight sooner rather than later.

That makes sense.

I leaned forward.

Of course, if they’d listened to me in the first place this would have been much less interesting than the near tragedy it actually was. I pointed out sarcastically. Sarah shook her head and squeezed my hand with hers. I’ve discovered that a lot of people here in Hollywood are so arrogant that they believe they are above getting in trouble simply because of who they are. It is actually a bit disturbing.

I sat back and watched the reporter, who chuckled and nodded as he made sure our words appeared correctly on his laptop screen from the digital microphone sitting on the table between us. I looked at her and smiled as she shook her head and tried not to laugh. My sense of humor still catches her off guard.

I turned sideways to face Sarah.

By the way, I didn’t mean you when I referred to arrogant people.

I certainly hope not, Mr. Thomas.

Mason looked at her curiously.

I thought you two were…

That is my way of warning him not to judge our friends and coworkers too harshly…he wasn’t issued a Hollywood filter when he came to work here so he just speaks his mind. She said with a smile and I chuckled. That’s not always a bad thing but it can be trying at times.

Yeah, I generally have to stay on a leash at parties and stay silent. I explained with a shrug and a grin. I will embarrass someone on purpose if I feel the need: including calling someone out if I’m misquoted or misrepresented.

Whoa, you guys called me, remember? Mason said defensively, holding up his hands. Besides, I want to know what really happened down there and so does the rest of the nation. You two will be able to read this after we are done to be satisfied that it is exactly what you say it happened. You two will be even bigger celebrities than you already are.

I frowned.

I can’t do my job if I’m a celebrity. I need to stay anonymous to be effective, not have my picture plastered in the center of a media firestorm.

It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? Mason asked and I shrugged. "I will make this promise to you that no