Contents
Redfall: Freedom Fighters
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Reading Order For This Series
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
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American Prepper Series
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About the Author
REDFALL
Freedom Fighters
Book 2
American Prepper Series
Written By Jay J. Falconer
www.JayFalconer.com
Published by BookBreeze.com LLC
Publication Date: January 16, 2016
ASIN: B01A9BTPZU
ISBN-13: 978-1523440535
ISBN-10: 1523440538
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or business establishments or organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Jay J. Falconer
All Rights Reserved Worldwide. No part of this publication may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author (Jay J. Falconer) except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, publicity mentions, book/author recommendations, or announcements.
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BOOKS BY JAY J. FALCONER
The Narrows of Time Series
Book 1: Linkage
Book 2: Incursion
Book 3: Reversion
The Emily Heart Time Jumper Series
Glassford Girl: Part 1
Glassford Girl: Part 2
Glassford Girl: Part 3
Glassford Girl: Part 4 (coming in 2016)
The American Prepper Series
Book 1: Redfall: Fight for Survival
Book 2: Redfall: Freedom Fighters
Book 3: Redfall: Shadow Realm (coming in 2016)
For more information about the author or his books, please visit:
www.JayFalconer.com
www.Facebook.com/NarrowsOfTime
This novel is dedicated to the loving memory of John and Dorothy.
Special thanks to Rocket H. for his advice on all things military and weapons related.
SUGGESTED READING ORDER FOR THIS SERIES
This narrative is an immediate continuation of the story from book 1, Redfall: Fight for Survival. Therefore, I’d suggest you read book 1 prior to starting this second installment. Book 1 can be found by clicking here.
The Simon Redfall saga involves many characters and a sweeping global conspiracy, all of which are introduced in the first book. Jumping into book 2 without reading the first installment may be somewhat confusing without book 1 as a foundation.
Thank you for reading my work and I hope you’ll consider starting with book 1.
Jay J. Falconer
Author
CHAPTER ONE
General Nate Rawlings doubled his grip on the handrail of the speeding boat Reliance as its Coast Guard crew raced him across the wind-driven fetches of the Atlantic Ocean. The newly christened Defender Boat was the latest in a new line of crime-fighting speed demons patrolling the waters around the nation’s capital, and the only ride available for this urgent, open water meeting.
“First time on a Defender Class boat, General?” Captain Hastings asked, his eyes sharp and focused.
“Yes, first time,” Rawlings answered, trying to keep his feet on the deck as the boat went airborne over the next swell. His stomach was already turning flips and they’d only been on water for forty-five minutes.
He made a mental note to drag Director of National Security Nancy Wiggins along for the next ride if she ever arranged another meeting like this on the ocean.
If he had stopped to think about the rough ride and how it would enflame the constant, stabbing pain in his stomach, he never would’ve requested to meet with the CEO of Nighthawk Services, Blake Anderchuck. And certainly never would’ve agreed to do so offshore.
The general turned his focus to Captain Hastings. “What’s the Reliance’s top speed?”
“Had her up to seventy yesterday, but the seas were calm. A little slower today, I’m afraid. I wish we could give you a better ride, General, but if we’re going to get you there on time, we have to push it, sir.”
“I understand, Captain. Do what you need to do. But please call me Nate. We can dispense with the formalities, if you don’t mind. At the end of the day, we’re all on the same side and answer to President Cooper, regardless of rank or service. I’m sure neither of us wants to be here right now, as there are more pressing issues to deal with. We’re just two honorable men enjoying a leisurely ride on the open water.”
The captain nodded, but didn’t respond. His eyes turned to the glass window in front of him, darting in random directions as if he was thinking the request over.
“Sounds like you can outrun almost anything on the high seas,” Rawlings asked him, testing to see if he’d just insulted the captain. Some career men couldn’t handle a lax atmosphere when a general was standing near, but Rawlings preferred it that way. It helped him gauge a new acquaintance by freeing the officer’s personality a bit.
“Affirmative, sir. I mean, General . . . Uh, sorry, Nate. That’s why Reliance was built. Drug runners have been giving us the slip with their top-end craft, but not anymore . . . ETA to the Octopus, ten minutes.”
“Ever seen the Octopus up close?”
“Negative. But I’ve heard rumors. Biggest civilian yacht ever built, if memory serves.”
“That she is. 414 foot with a fulltime crew of fifty-seven. I hear it’s one hell of a party boat.”
“Must have cost a small fortune,” the captain said, sounding as if the shackles of decorum were starting to loosen. The general preferred to save the formalities of command for the men directly under his watch, and, of course, for when he needed to deal with the political types in Washington. Not when chatting with a Coast Guard Captain who was stuck playing taxi driver for a day.
Nate smiled. “Actually, a large fortune, if the reports are correct. Anderchuck spent over 200 million—all cash.”
“Cash?”
“There’s significant profit in DO
D contracts these days, especially now that Nighthawk doesn’t have much in the way of competition,” Nate informed him, thinking of Simon Redfall’s bankrupt company, Ghost Works.
“I can’t fathom that kind of money.”
The general shook his head, slowly. “I’m afraid it’s only a pipe dream for us working stiffs.”
“Roger that,” Hastings said, reviewing some paperwork just handed to him by a junior officer. He signed off and gave the clipboard back to his man who turned and walked away crisply.
Nate checked his watch and ran a quick calculation. “Looks like we’ll arrive just under the wire. The Octopus is scheduled to set sail for three months at the top of the hour.”
“Where to?” the captain asked.
“Spain, Cape Town, Sidney, Honolulu, then San Francisco, assuming Anderchuck doesn’t alter his itinerary.”
“What’s he doing way out here?”
“Deep sea fishing with a couple of US Senators before taking them on a world tour. Being a politician certainly has its perks.”
“If they’re planning to go ashore, I hope they brought plenty of umbrellas. That red rain is relentless. At least out here, we can escape it for a while.”
“True. But I doubt there will be many excursions ashore. Like I said earlier, the Octopus is one hell of a party boat. I imagine there’s plenty of young scenery aboard as well, so no reason to disembark if you know what I mean. Alcohol, girls, and politicians. Sounds like tabloid trouble to me. You married, Captain? Kids?”
“Yes, eleven years. We have two sons, Jake and Ellis.”
“They play any sports?”
Hastings shook his head. “Not yet. But both are huge Redskins fans. So am I.”
“Me, too. Though since everything went pay-per-view, it’s just not the same as old days when you could attend the game in person. While I enjoy sitting in my chair at home with a cold one, you just can’t feel the speed and power of the game when it’s on TV.”
“Octopus in sight, sir,” Hastings reported, pointing with his left hand. “Port side, ten o’clock.”
“Excellent work, Hastings. You ever met Anderchuck, the former F-16 pilot?”
“No sir. I haven’t. But I’ve read his book, An Aviator’s Confession. Interesting read, though I’m not sure his squadron was too happy about it.”
Rawlings shot him a look that said continue, but didn’t respond.
“In it, he talks about how he earned his call sign, Nighthawk. It was during a naming ceremony held by the squadron’s social chairman for some new arrivals, including Anderchuck. There were a bunch of pilots drinking and blowing off steam when two girls arrived and started dancing together. If I remember correctly, they were twin sisters—a couple of blonde strippers, hired to entertain for the night. Apparently, a long-standing tradition for their namings.”
“Sounds like a tradition I’d like to be invited to. I’m sure it was a wild night.”
Hastings nodded. “Absolutely. His book didn’t go into a lot of specifics about the girls’ act, but he did mention his call sign was given to him after he and his tongue completed a daring set of maneuvers involving multiple angles of attack with the twins.”
Rawlings smiled, appreciating the carefully chosen words. “Multiple angles of attack? Interesting use of the term.”
“That’s how he put it in the book. Anyway, the novel went on to say that his maneuvers gave a new meaning to the aviation term Track Crossing Angle, but the rest of the details were omitted.”
Nate laughed, enjoying the banter with the captain.
Hastings continued, changing his tone to one of familiarity. “Anderchuck said he achieved a successful ‘firing solution,’ which I guess brought the house down and led to his dubious call sign.”
Nate laughed again, this time hard enough to bother the knot in his stomach. He ignored the pain. “If the rest of his book is this good, I’ll bet it was a bestseller.”
“Yeah, it was highly recommended on Amazon. That’s why I ordered it. Glad I did.”
“You read a lot, Hastings?”
“Every chance I get. It’s the best way to pass the time between shifts. I prefer autobiographies.”
“Why?”
“When they’re done well, they draw me in like I’m seeing it all happen right in front of me. I get lost in the pages for hours.”
“I’ve never been much of a reader. Though I’ve been known to down my share of booze . . . and get a table dance or two. But that’s a discussion for another time, my young friend. Looks like we’re here,” Nate told the grinning captain as the Defender Boat slowed, pulling around to the back of the massive yacht.
“Do you need a detail to accompany you, sir?” the captain asked as the two boats touched gently for the first time.
“No, you may stand down, Captain. Wait here while I meet with Anderchuck. Won’t take but a few minutes.”
“Copy that.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Have a seat, General. Would you like a drink?” Blake Anderchuck asked from his favorite cushion in the plush lounge of the newly-purchased mega-yacht Octopus.
The Nighthawk CEO was curious as to the nature of this surprise meeting with General Rawlings, a man he’d never met before today. Director Wiggins didn’t go into detail, only telling him that it was Priority-1.
“Call me Nate,” the dark-skinned man said, sliding his plus-size frame onto the couch.
When his guest made eye contact, Anderchuck continued. “We’ve stocked just about everything you could want, even some of the exotic brands,” Blake said, waving at his personal assistant, Patricia, who was standing in the doorway, wearing a skimpy red bikini and a devilish smile.
The hundred-pound brunette, who had perfect curves and a submissive personality to match, came over and stood next to him, waiting for orders like she’d been trained. Blake planned to savor her sweetness later, after the conclusion of this unexpected visit from General Rawlings.
“Just name it, Nate, and Patricia here will fetch it for ya. Anything at all. We have beer, wine, and the hard stuff. Plus I can bring some of the girls down, too, if that’s more to your liking. Most of them are former cheerleaders who lost their jobs when the NFL was forced to close their public stadiums and hold secluded pay-per-view games. Can’t blame them either, not after the bloody ISIS attacks on the games in Baltimore, Washington, and Philly.”
“I remember that Sunday well,” Rawlings said with a downtrodden tone in his voice, shaking his head.
“Yes, a horribly dark day in our nation’s history. As businessmen though, the NFL owners had to press on and do what they needed to do to keep the cash flow rolling in and the doors open. Though I think the President could have handled the proportional response better. Every last one of my men were standing by, willing to send a much stronger message but the orders never came through,” he said, hoping to pry a reason out of the general. The man sat quietly, so Blake decided to move on.
“Regardless, I think you’ll like the quality and attentiveness of my crew, if you know what I mean. I only hire the best.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass,” Rawlings said, looking around. “Where are the Senators?”
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Senators Lusk and Martin. Both from the Armed Services Committee. I was told they were onboard to do a little deep sea fishing before your world tour begins.”
“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, Nate, but I can assure you there are no members of Congress aboard right now. Just me and my all-female crew, plus a few dozen seagulls staining my decks. Patricia likes to call them sky-rats, shitting on everything and everyone,” he said with a smirk. “If ammo wasn’t at such a premium right now, I teach the girls to shoot, using the birds as target practice.”
Blake studied the intense commander, who didn’t respond, realizing his attempt at humor wasn’t cutting through the general’s hardened exterior. It seemed odd that Rawlings told him to call him Nat
e earlier. Most of the officers he’d met and served under were sticklers about such things, not wanting to expose even a sliver of their personal side. Perhaps with all the stunning beauties onboard, the man was trying to play it cool. But to what end, he couldn’t be sure, so he continued.
“However, the part you mentioned about the world tour is correct.”
Rawlings grabbed his gut and grimaced, his face looking pale and numb. The man’s chest started to heave in short bursts as the boat rocked with more intensity than before, rolling to port, then to starboard and back again. Rawlings grabbed the couch with both hands, clenching his jaw.
“Are you okay, Nate?” Blake asked, wondering if he should have a puke bucket brought in.
“That remains to be seen. The ride here was a little rough to say the least, plus I think I ate something earlier that didn’t agree with me.”
Blake had forgotten how easily the sea could wreak havoc with the uninitiated. It wasn’t a problem for him or the members of his former squadron when they came to visit, but of course, they were all well-trained fighter jocks who could pull near-fatal G’s when engaging in combat maneuvers. Nothing affected them, except quality booze and friendly girls—both of which the Octopus served up liberally.
He caught Patricia’s eye with a firm look.
She bent down to expose her ample cleavage, bringing her ear next to his lips.
“I need you to go grab some Dramamine from Doc Brown. Wake up the old drunk if you have to, then send down Stacy and Dawn. Looks like our guest could use a little TLC.”
“No, I’m fine. That won’t be necessary,” Rawlings said in a commanding tone. “No booze. No broads. No Dramamine.”
“As you wish, General,” Blake said, gesturing to Patricia to leave the room.
She nodded, then stood with perfect posture on her sculptured legs and manicured feet. A quick turn and saunter to the door caught the attention of the general.
Redfall: Freedom Fighters (American Prepper Series Book 2) Page 1