Release date: May 22. 2017
Subgenre: Post-apocalyptic, dystopian
About Fire Wall:
RESIST
The men in the bunkers have sent a hit squad to Cash Bishop’s Tennessee homestead. They want to take his woman—and his life.RESIST
Hannah Carter just found out that she could be the key to bringing down Project Erebus if she can leave behind everyone she loves and infiltrate the Black Diamond facility.
If she tries, the only guarantee she has is that there will be blood.
RESIST
Cash won’t stand by while Hannah puts herself in danger. Even if he has to drag her complicit brother along by the balls and kill every damned soul inside Black Diamond, he will find and protect the woman he loves.
And bring down the corrupt government that ended America.
RESIST
Excerpt:
“They knew we were coming,” Kingsley growled, switching on his microphone so the team’s command station could hear.
“Maintain radio silence until contact,” a thin voice ordered.
A snarl ripped into Kingsley’s cheeks. He waited until he had the microphone switched off before talking again.
“Officers,” he hissed.
Heads bobbed in agreement. With a hand signal, he ordered the men out of the barn and toward the old house that backed against the woods on the other side of the clearing. Kingsley’s gut told him they would find no one inside, but there was no such thing as returning to base empty handed. Command suspected that their target would have been sheltered inside the home, not one of the other buildings.
If the team couldn’t return to base with Dr. Hannah Carter, they had to bring back evidence that would say whether she had ever been at the location.
Coleman stepped onto the front porch as the rest of the team fanned along the building’s perimeter. Heavy curtains covered the window, giving him no line of sight into the interior. He eased along the wall until he stood next to the door. One hand quietly teased the knob. The door was unlocked.
Kingsley could feel the disappointment in the kid.
Hanson followed Coleman into the house. It took them three minutes to signal the all clear. Kingsley motioned for the rest of the team to stand watch outside and then he went in. He scanned the open flow of kitchen, breakfast nook and living room. Two coffee cups were on the dining table. Pulling out a small, thumb-sized device, he clicked its power button. A narrow beam of red light flickered. Grabbing the first cup, he swept the beam over its surface. Inside his pocket, a palm-sized tablet buzzed.
He pulled it out and read the display. The device was picking up half a dozen decent fingerprints, including a delicate impression of a thumb belonging to Dr. Carter.
“Check the bathroom trash,” he ordered Coleman, then nodded at Hanson. “See what the bedrooms have to tell us. Prints and DNA, people. You know where to look.”
The men disappeared down the hall as Kingsley scanned the second cup. The tablet buzzed again. He looked at the display.
Colonel Thomas Sand.
Kingsley knew the name from the background briefing on Carter. The man was a high threat level except that he was presumed dead. Kingsley was glad he wasn’t the idiot who had presumed wrong.
A grin flicked at the corner of his mouth. He thought of the operations officer waiting in the helicopter, the one that had been strung tight but pretending like hell to be at ease during the briefing, the one that had told him to keep radio silence when Kingsley called in the warning that the team had been expected.
Major Fields, Kingsley remembered. Some big shot out of St. Louis, second in command to that crazy hard case General Billows.
Yeah, good old Major Fields.
The man was probably reading the display on his end—and soiling his pants.
“Maintain radio silence until contact,” a thin voice ordered.
A snarl ripped into Kingsley’s cheeks. He waited until he had the microphone switched off before talking again.
“Officers,” he hissed.
Heads bobbed in agreement. With a hand signal, he ordered the men out of the barn and toward the old house that backed against the woods on the other side of the clearing. Kingsley’s gut told him they would find no one inside, but there was no such thing as returning to base empty handed. Command suspected that their target would have been sheltered inside the home, not one of the other buildings.
If the team couldn’t return to base with Dr. Hannah Carter, they had to bring back evidence that would say whether she had ever been at the location.
Coleman stepped onto the front porch as the rest of the team fanned along the building’s perimeter. Heavy curtains covered the window, giving him no line of sight into the interior. He eased along the wall until he stood next to the door. One hand quietly teased the knob. The door was unlocked.
Kingsley could feel the disappointment in the kid.
Hanson followed Coleman into the house. It took them three minutes to signal the all clear. Kingsley motioned for the rest of the team to stand watch outside and then he went in. He scanned the open flow of kitchen, breakfast nook and living room. Two coffee cups were on the dining table. Pulling out a small, thumb-sized device, he clicked its power button. A narrow beam of red light flickered. Grabbing the first cup, he swept the beam over its surface. Inside his pocket, a palm-sized tablet buzzed.
He pulled it out and read the display. The device was picking up half a dozen decent fingerprints, including a delicate impression of a thumb belonging to Dr. Carter.
“Check the bathroom trash,” he ordered Coleman, then nodded at Hanson. “See what the bedrooms have to tell us. Prints and DNA, people. You know where to look.”
The men disappeared down the hall as Kingsley scanned the second cup. The tablet buzzed again. He looked at the display.
Colonel Thomas Sand.
Kingsley knew the name from the background briefing on Carter. The man was a high threat level except that he was presumed dead. Kingsley was glad he wasn’t the idiot who had presumed wrong.
A grin flicked at the corner of his mouth. He thought of the operations officer waiting in the helicopter, the one that had been strung tight but pretending like hell to be at ease during the briefing, the one that had told him to keep radio silence when Kingsley called in the warning that the team had been expected.
Major Fields, Kingsley remembered. Some big shot out of St. Louis, second in command to that crazy hard case General Billows.
Yeah, good old Major Fields.
The man was probably reading the display on his end—and soiling his pants.
Amazon
About the Long Haul Home series:
1. Long Haul Home (Series collection 1-3, contains Blind Spot, Down Shift and Dead Head)2. Home Port (Book 4)
3. Fire Wall (Book 5)
About Dana Fraser:
Science Fiction author of dystopian, post-apocalyptic, prepper, and homesteading fiction.
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