Terror, Passion and Courage

By Geoffrey A. Gilbert

Special Forces Sergeant Brad Stunner is suddenly transferred from presidential guard duty at the White House, for a special assignment on the Korean Peninsula. Stunner walks straight into an apocalyptic maze of terrorist alliances led by the notorious jihadist terror mastermind, Abu Ghusaiyev. A daring high-sea skirmish leads to the capture of this marauding merchant of death. Stunner soon finds out that an unpatriotic jihadist sympathizer helps the terrorist to escape.

While Stunner pursues the terrorist plotters, CIA and MI5 agents interrogate Corporal Dimitri Novolov, a rogue FSB defector. The files he smuggled out of Russia contains highly classified and incendiary intelligence. Troubled by this damning exposé, an assassin is ordered to take out Novolov.

After Stunner finally cornered Ghusaiyev in downtown Manhattan and thwarted his plans for a series of terror attacks, officials from Washington, London, and Moscow are shocked to discover more scary, breathtaking revelations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546225515

Geoffrey A. Gilbert

Geoffrey A. Gilbert is the Author of three other Novels: Jungle Rescue, The Bazatov Conspiracy, and A Chase To Argyle’s Castle. He is an ardent follower of Current and International Affairs. With his meandering thrill and adventure, Gilbert intrigues readers with sheer excitement, and unpredictability. He also aspires to have his work adapted to film. Gilbert participated in Hollywood PitchFest – Los Angeles, California (September 2014), and Las Vegas, Nevada (June 2016). Visit www.geoffrey a gilbert.com, for more details.

Book preview

TERROR,

PASSION

and

COURAGE

Geoffrey A. Gilbert

47674.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2018 Geoffrey A. Gilbert. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/09/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-2553-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-2552-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-2551-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018900691

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This book is dedicated to all of the victims of terrorist attacks around the world. And to the unselfish bravery and commitment of law Enforcement Officers, military personnel, and other paramilitary units, fighting the deadly tentacles of terror.

A very special thank you to my wife Joan, for all the support, encouragement, and motivation.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 1

MONDAY MORNING, 1:59-WASHNGTON DC

The silence was broken by the persistent ringing of an emergency telephone. A cool October breeze rustled in the treetops outside. Autumn brought a sensational calm and beauty all around 16, Pennsylvania Avenue. The president had an exceptionally busy day. And perhaps that’s why his slumber is so deep and sound. President Robert Summerville is normally an early riser. Life in the Oval Office has not changed his routine that much. The usual half hour for morning devotion, followed by some Yoga exercises – and then, that monster workout with Brad. The ex-Marine pushes him to the very limit. But the president and those around him, have seen all of the marvelous results.

First Lady Dorothy Summerville, rolled onto her side. The thick foam mattress sunk slightly under the impact of her bodyweight. She knew when Robert had a really tough day. Because of this close relationship with her husband, the Secret Service Agents pay a lot of attention to her suggestions and recommendations.

Dorothy stretched out her hand, then struck the switch on the bedside lamp. A warm shaft of light, shot across the room. She pulled the bedspread over the side. Whoever is calling at this time must have a pretty darn good reason.

The First Lady yawned, then picked up the telephone. The voice on the other end of the line was throbbing with emotion. Dorothy’s heart raced!

Hello! Hello! She poked Robert with her free hand. His left leg jerked as it stuck out involuntarily from beneath the thick white blanket.

Good Morning my dear - sorry to call at this ungodly hour, but I must speak to the president.

Oh my God, Stan! What happened? He’s asleep – I’ll wake him, just give me two minutes.

Ok! I’ll call you back in five. CIA Director, Stan Marks hung up.

The First Lady pulled the blanket. She jabbed Robert in the rib cage, then tickled under his feet. He jumped out of the bed - the old trick had worked once again.

Dora… Dora… it’s not yet time for the gym. Robert stretched, then yawned. Ahaaaa! Ahaaaa!

Still struggling to find his balance, the president kicked open the bathroom door. He took steady aim, then fired three quick spirts and he was done. Robert rubbed his eyes; yesterday’s hectic schedule pushed him close to the breaking point. As he strode back to the bedside, Dora placed her arms around him. She had a rather anxious look on her face.

Darling, you’ve got to call Stan.

Oh my God! Why didn’t you wake me straight away, Dora?

A call from the CIA director this early is more than likely to break some terrible news. Several thoughts raced through the president’s mind. So much is happening around the world. Turkey has made no secret of its intention to pull out of NATO, the Russians were pulverizing rebel positions around eastern Allepo and Palmyra. Thirty thousand jihadist fighters, led by a US trained Iraqi defector, were advancing at lightning speed towards Baghdad.

While all this is going on, there are new and troubling developments on the Korean Peninsula, requiring quick and decisive action by President Robert Summerville. Only last month, after very intense lobbying and cajoling, Congress approved a Bill, clearing the way for more US Special Forces to be deployed to the Iraqi capital.

If Baghdad falls into the hands of the terrorists, this would be a colossal blow to his administration - and undoubtedly, a reflection of a failed foreign policy. The loss of sophisticated American military hardware – and worst – American lives, if the city is overrun, will put a serious dent in his chances of a second term in the White House.

The president scratched his head, then picked up the telephone. He looked at the clock on the wall; it read 2:11 AM. President Robert Summerville heard the tension in Stan’s voice.

Come on Stan – just lay it on me. The heavy breathing on the other end of the line made the president even more nervous.

Mr. President, I don’t know how to tell you this. Stan paused, he took a deep breath again.

Tell me what, Stan. The president sat down, he braced himself for what the CIA director had to say.

We got him! The excitement is Stan’s voice was palpable.

You aren’t telling me anything! Stan – cut out all that damn crap. Got who?

Triple X105999. The president punched the air defiantly. He’s been waiting for some good news for quite a long time.

Wow! Fantastic - great work Chief! Any casualties?

Yeah - twelve! The CIA director heard the president’s sigh of disapproval and surprise.

Stan! Stan! Oh my God! No! No! That’s too many – it wasn’t worth it!

Calm down Mr. President. The director of the CIA shook his head. His predecessor, Jim Burbanks, lost his job for a similar comment three years ago. He quickly corrected himself. I know that you’ve been under immense pressure from critics at home and abroad. But don’t worry Mr. President, I’m fully supportive of your sterling efforts to beat back the terrorist threats."

That’s very thoughtful, Stan – but twelve of our men are dead! Twelve families all across America will not be hearing from their ……..

Mr. President, the special operation conducted in international waters off the North Korean coast, was a tremendous success! The casualties were all on their side. It was a flawless, precision strike. Our Special Forces went in to capture one man – anyone standing in their way, didn’t have a chance!

Awesome! Once again our men and women in uniform have shown immense courage and tactical brilliance!

You’re absolutely correct, Mr. President! When you hear all of the details, you’ll be even more amazed. This was a very complex and dangerous operation!

Any reaction from the North Koreans?

Yeah - fast and furious! Threats of missile strikes against Washington, San Francisco and Seoul!

The usual empty ramblings – pure rhetoric and window dressing! I’ve exhausted my level of tolerance for their flagrant violation of international law! I really hope this incident teaches them a lesson – it’s just not a good idea to mess with the United States. The president crossed his legs.

This guy is a loose cannon! I still believe he poses a real threat to the US western coastline. You’ll get a better assessment later today. By then, our interrogation of the prisoner, should be completed.

Great! I’m sure we’ll find the information quite startling.

The conversation between the president and the Head of the CIA ended at exactly 2:31 AM. Dorothy saw the look of satisfaction on her husband’s face.

It’s still very early, darling. Let’s snuggle up for another hour or so.

Robert looked at his beautiful wife, then smiled. Not a bad idea at all, my dear.

While Dorothy enjoyed the warmth and cozy comfort, the president’s mind certainly was not at ease. He did not want to pre-empt the findings of the team interrogating the captured man. But whatever comes out of it, an international furor will definitely follow.

This all started about six months ago when agents of the Israeli Intelligence Services – Mossad, tipped off the CIA about a pending alliance between a terror cartel, and rogue Generals on the Korean Peninsula. The CIA wasted no time. What followed was undoubtedly the most intensive intelligence gathering exercise in recent time. Code named, Mission TrippleX105999, this top secret operation helped to fine tune the skills of an elite amphibious unit, tasked with the responsibility of capturing one of America’s most wanted – a feared and seasoned jihadist, with a firebrand notoriety, the young converts across the world, aspire to emulate.

Triple X, whose real name is Abu Ghusaiyev is a former Chechen guerrilla fighter. The CIA added XXX to his name for the three insurgencies he led. He first rose to prominence in his country of birth, where he led a series of scathing attacks on elite Spetsnaz troops defending Russian positions around Grozny. He then went on to join the resistance fighters in the Georgian capital of Tbilisi. And most recently, he terrorized Russian troops fighting in eastern Ukraine. In each of these conflicts, Ghusaiyev used his exceptional skills as a sniper with deadly accuracy – he chalked up an astounding number of kills! Reliable sources have estimated the number to be between two hundred and fifty and three hundred hits.

Ghusaiyev later became something of a freelancer, his last stop before the Mossad tip off to the CIA, was the ancient City of Palmyra in Syrian. The Russians knew he was there and did everything possible to kill or capture him. They had a couple of drone strikes on areas he frequented - the closest call came near Kobani. Government forces confirmed that he was holed up in an abandoned building used by the resistance fighters. Russian MIG Fighters later strafed the compound in an unrelenting, two – hour long barrage! They dropped three barrel bombs which blasted the remains of the structure to smithereens. Ghusaiyev had his own network of spies on the ground. He learned of the planned attack, a day earlier, and moved to another location before the air strike.

The president tossed and turned. Yesterday’s grueling work schedule left him feeling burnt out, and it is very unlikely that he’ll get any more sleep. President Robert Summerville is normally up by 3:30 AM. He looked at the clock, then kicked out of bed. Dorothy threw her hand to the left instinctively. Even in her drowsy state, she became aware of Robert’s restlessness. Darling – why don’t you try to get a little extra sleep? Robert sat upright. For a brief moment, he thought about falling back onto the bed as Dorothy massaged his head.

This feels really good my love – but I’ve got to go. I’ll probably leave a bit early today - will give you a little extra later.

Dorothy smiled. Don’t fool yourself Robert! You know what it’s like when you get in that Oval Office.

No need to remind me of that, my love. The president grabbed his gym bag. He reached for the pair of light blue sneakers perched on the metal shoe rack. Robert intends to pound the treadmill with gusto and extra drive this morning. Today’s work out will prepare him for whatever comes out of the capture of the terrorist mastermind, Abu Ghusaiyev.

President Summerville walked briskly into the spacious White House gym, escorted by two Secret Service Agents. The earlier conversation with CIA Director, Stan Marks kept playing on his mind. Special Agent, Brad Stunner took the president’s towel.

OK Chief, give me a good twenty minutes. Seems like you can really beat those barbells today.

The look on the president’s face said it all, but Brad is not prepared to take no for an answer. He’s been doubling up as a trainer for the Commander in Chief. He takes great pleasure in ensuring that the most powerful man on the planet remains fit and safe. Brad saw the quick flickering of the president’s eyebrows. He sensed what was going through his mind: Are you out of your freaking mind?

Brad responded promptly. Not today, Mr. President – we’re going the full nine yards!

The president smiled. I’m with you Brad – I’ve got to be strong physically and emotionally to face the challenges of the week ahead.

You’re the man, Mr. President! As Brad looked at Robert – the man he’s prepared to take a bullet for, his strong chiseled face belied the inner tension which came with his job.

President Summerville started off rather slowly. The whirring sounds of the treadmill spurred him on. Go! Go! Go! Brad shouted with the authority of a drill master. The president increased the pace, Brad looked at his partner. We’ve got to keep him in top shape. Take note of the routine, man – one day you may have to take my place.

Planning to quit? Richard inquired.

Hell no! But in our line of work, we’ve got to be prepared for whatever comes.

Richard understood this, but at this point the job will just not be the same without his Special Forces buddy – Brad Stunner.

Great stuff, Mr. President – you’re looking good, Sir. Give me another fifteen, then we hit the chinning bar. We’ll wrap up with a couple ah reps on the bench press.

Richard glanced at his partner. He’s got to come back in the morning, buddy.

Yeah – I know – fitter, better and stronger! Stunner was quite pleased; the president kept pushing the weights with high intensity. Looking good, Sir! You’re doing great! Keep it pumping – just give me three more reps.

ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY NAUTICAL MILES OFF THE COAST OF CHONGJIN, NORTH KOREA - MIDNIGHT, TUESDAY

The prisoner remained blind folded and stripped down to the waist. He pulled and strained against the tight synthetic straps, restraining him to the bench. Meanwhile, above the deck of the USS Phantom, the crew remained on red alert. Perched high up on the observation tower, a Special Forces team from the elite special operations anti-terrorism unit - ESOATU, scoured the North Korean coastline. Less than twelve hours ago, they had pulled off an amazing raid. They only had sixty days to plan and execute the mission. The six-man team headed by veteran Navy SEAL Josh Waller, rushed into the special training routine in preparation for the mission.

Apart from the bruising workouts and many daredevil stunts in snake-infested swamplands, and other hostile terrain, there was something unique about Mission Triple X. In a break from tradition, Corporal Khloe Pratts, a female Special Forces trooper was called up for the top secret mission! Pratts became the very first female soldier to successfully complete the rigorous ESOATU training regime! Those who made it to the end could testify to the knuckle-breaking, bone-jarring routine. One former navy seal said ESOATU workouts, made the crucible look like child’s play.

Initially, as expected, there was strong resistance from male officers. But in the end, the military just couldn’t deny Khloe. She had the tough-as-nails commitment, and gung ho attitude to fight alongside America’s best modern-day warriors.

The hard-punching girl from Nebraska, had proven herself in several combat missions. Sergeant Josh Waller gave her the thumbs up very early. They fought together less than a year ago on the battlefield. He remembers too well the fierce fire fights in Mosul: We were providing cover and logistical support for an Iraqi unit. Khloe sat in the cockpit. She handled the Apache gunship like the ultimate professional. We had to fly very low to evade enemy radar. This puts the bird under extreme pressure. The friction created by flying so close to the ground could have caused a major catastrophe.

As he continued to gaze across the north, Commander Waller couldn’t take his mind off the lone female officer on the SEAL team. The skirmish on the outskirts of Iraq’s second largest city – Mosul, just kept coming back:

It was pitch dark as we flew along. Rockets and bombs were exploding everywhere. Through our night vision goggles, we saw the tracer rounds raining down from a ridge top, rebel command post. Bullets were ricocheting against a blood stained pock-marked wall. At around fourteen hundred hours, we took a hit in the tail rotor blade. Khloe kept her nerve, the chopper rocked and swerved. Man – she was in a real no nonsense mood – screaming at the top of her voice: Alright guys – let’s go kick some ass!"

I will never forget her words. I felt the dogged determination in her voice, and from that day, I knew that Corporal Khloe Pratts had the qualities of a true American warrior! Khloe just has the raw talent for this kind of stuff – physically, she is so strong. At five-foot nine, she can outrun and beat the shit out of most of the tough guys I know! I haven’t seen a better shooter on the range. She handles a machine gun like a real professional!

Josh’s partner on the guard tower, Cpl. Abe Saunders lowered his night vision binoculars. So what happened afterwards?

"Wow! It was one hell of a fire fight. Khloe managed to steady the chopper. Miraculously, she lifted the bird higher while aiming a murderous hail of cannon fire at the enemy position on a nearby hill. Then, she went for the jugular, unleashing a barrage of rockets on the bad guys. We watched a huge orange fireball light up the sky. Seemed like an ammunition storage dump took a direct hit. Men were running wildly out of their trenches - some were rolling on the ground in an attempt to douse the flames eating away at their flesh. I saw a couple guys desperately trying to rip off blazing camouflage fatigues. She’d unleashed a few white phosphorous grenades in the opening salvo.

And then we took another hit - the insurgents on the hillside, fired a rocket propelled grenade. Khloe kicked in with a burst of chaff. A projectile exploded about ten meters from the chopper. Moments later, another enemy rocket sheared off the entire tail section of the Apache helicopter gunship. We were plummeting fast, Khloe looked for a soft spot to bring down the chopper. Smoke poured from the cabin – but she managed to land the craft in a marshy meadow. Abe, she’s a tough cookie!" Waller smiled, then slung the pair of night vision goggles over his right shoulder.

He continued to share his experience of the battle, on the outskirts of Mosul. What happened on the ground in the ensuing fire fight, was nothing short of spectacular!

Yeah – really? Marine Corporal Abe Barker, zeroed in on the silhouette of a dark moving object in the distance. A North Korean frigate appeared to be maneuvering in a south easterly direction. Abe kept calm – that’s one of his many strengths.

Sergeant Josh Waller related more of the harrowing experience they had in Mosul: "The chopper exploded into a huge ball of fire, moments after we all scampered to safety. Cpl. Khloe Pratts quickly took up a position just to the left of a rocky mound. Jim, Ian, and Mike found the wreckage of an old Soviet T60 Tank. They took cover behind it. Meanwhile, there was a steady burst of heavy machine gun fire. The fighters were pouring everything they had at us - mortars, grenade launchers – the whole works. At one point they unleashed a barrage from an anti-aircraft cannon. Jim took a round in his left leg - he screamed out in agony. I rushed to his side. With my knife, I cut through the camouflage – did a quick tourniquet. The bleeding stopped for a while.

Khloe was screaming at the top of her voice. She spotted two jihadist fighters as they were about to take cover. The first one raced towards an armored vehicle, parked near a partially demolished building. He never made it. I heard the blast from her sniper rifle. His partner turned around. Stunned and scarred like hell - he started firing wildly. The defiant bursts from his assault rifle, were distinct even amidst the crazy cacophony of the sounds of battle. Khloe’s next shot ripped away his shoulder – the Kalashnikov catapulted from his hand. My girl was on fire! She wasn’t taking any chances. She blasted off several more rounds into the vehicle. The big heavy slugs tore out the tires. The armored personnel carrier careened off the rugged path! Mike took careful aim with his rocket launcher. He blew up the vehicle with the first round. Thick black smoke billowed in the distance - a scorching inferno quickly followed. Panic was everywhere – fighters ran out from their positions with blazing Kalashnikovs – shouting: Allah Hu Akbar! Allah Hu Akbar! We picked them off, one by one!"

Sergeant Josh Waller and his partner made their way down from the observation tower. The handover was quick and uneventful. And the replacement crew – PFC Alejandro Ortega and Miguel Brick, settled in quickly. The troops were very confident about their ability to deal with any hostile actions by the north in retaliation, for US the Special Forces raid.

Dawn will be breaking soon; both Waller and Saunders were looking forward to a good long period of rest. The last twenty-four hours were quite hectic. Meanwhile, in another section of the USS Phantom, one man is getting all the attention. Abu Ghusaiyev looked dazed and disheveled. He felt defeated, but he’s not prepared to throw in the towel. The terrorist had to find a way out of this. So far, he had absorbed all of what his captors had thrown at him. He gave his word to the Chief, and now this is the ultimate test. Death rather than betrayal. The prisoner muttered beneath his breath as he pulled and strained in a futile attempt to break free.

The man standing over Abu Ghusaiyev spoke: Hey tough guy, why are you doing this? You’re fighting a lost cause, it’s only a matter of time. We’re driving you jihadists out of all captured territories - Raqqa, Ramadi, Homs. Aleppo is next! Man – the writing is on the wall. By the end of the year Mosul will be under our control. There is no safe haven for you bastards! Our precision drone strikes will wipe out all of your leadership. Abu, if you’re smart, you’ll cut a deal to save your ass!

Ghusaiyev stared at the man interrogating him. No way – not over my dead body! American! Go count the hairs around your soft dick!

General Anderson smiled. A year ago, if a prisoner had shown this level of defiance and disrespect, his face would be pulverized into a bloody mess! Days later, he’ll be sucking on a plastic straw, squeezed between his swollen lips. The rough unplanned extraction rendering him unable to eat anything solid for quite a while.

That’s cool, Abu. But let me give you one word of advice. Someone is flying in from Washington to take over your case. He’s younger, tougher and meaner than me! He doesn’t have my kind of patience! So you have a choice, Mr. Abu. Tell me all you know about the transfer of nuclear secrets and weapons to your group.

Go to hell! I have nothing to tell you. You’ve got the most powerful military in the world, yet we continue to embarrass and humiliate you. Just a ragtag band of guys with Kalashnikovs! Shame on you Americans! Abu touched a sore spot. Lieutenant Anderson grabbed the prisoner by the band around his ankles. He yanked him off the cot.

Stand up! Abu struggled to stay on his feet. Anderson rocked back, he swung hard. Whack! Whack! Whack! The first punch landed squarely on Ghusaiyev’s chin. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth all the way down to his thick black beard. Lieutenant Anderson was not finished yet.

You slimy sucker, I just rolled back the clock! Anderson jerked him by the head, then slammed his chin against the upward thrust of his right knee. Ghusaiyev screamed out in agony. Anderson stared him straight in the face. I’m giving you one final bit of advice. What you just got was only a taste of what’s to come. The man I told you about comes in tomorrow – he won’t be messing around with you.

Lieutenant Anderson pulled the radio from his pouch. MERM ZO1, come in please.

Copy that General Anderson. What can I do, sir?

Anderson took a deep breath. Send two medics down right now.

On the way, Sir! Corporal Jacques didn’t like the tone of the General’s voice. He sensed that he’d done a number on the prisoner.

Chapter 2

Sergeant Brad Stunner really loved his job protecting the most important man on the planet. Since his retirement from military service, admittedly the adrenaline rush from active duty in some of the trouble spots around the world, still lingered in his mind. It seemed like a very long time, but it’s been only two and a half years. Stunner couldn’t help it - he missed the thrill of parachuting behind enemy lines, to gather intelligence on America’s most feared adversaries.

Stunner knew that in modern times the word enemy has taken on a somewhat ubiquitous nature. Thirty years ago, there was a clear definition. The cold war raged on unabated, and American Generals planned for a potential strike from the Soviets. He was in his late twenties when the great empire in the east collapsed. Times have changed, and as he enjoyed the warm, loving comforts of home, Stunner remembered the words of Vice-Admiral Leo Webber - Commander of the US Pacific Fleet: America faces a different kind of enemy. One that could be anywhere. Battle - hardened by hate, misconceived ideology and hopelessness. This modern foe doesn’t subscribe to the rules of war. He will kill by planting bombs in crowded streets, attacking innocent children, and blasting planes out of the skies. Kidnapping, extortion, prostitution - whatever it takes – no act is too heinous. This is the new war!

Brad had already made up his mind that his darling wife Jane, and the two kids were getting all his attention today. She was so relieved when he returned from his last assignment. Oh, how she prayed for his safety. Brad did not give much detail before the trip. He only said