Enemies Among Us
Page 1
PRAISE FOR
ENEMIES AMONG US
Bob Hamer’s debut novel delivers realism only an undercover FBI agent can bring. Enemies Among Us will grab you from word one and stay with you long after you’ve read the last evocative page. Mitch Rapp has a new friend in the world of fictional heroes, FBI Special Agent Matt Hogan . . .
—Vince Flynn, New York Times #1 best-selling author of Pursuit of Honor
Knowing Hamer “walked the talk” as an FBI undercover agent gives this well-crafted thriller a terrific plausibility, a genuine edge that rings like a struck bell. Hamer hits the nail on the head.
—Kevin Sorbo, producer/director and star of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda.
Bob Hamer’s real-life experiences as an undercover FBI agent lend an insider’s touch to this all-too-realistic tale of terrorism in our time. It’s a story of dedicated people who battle bureaucrats and terrorists to keep America safe.
—Charlie Daniels, in his four-decade music career, has six platinum albums, performed for U.S. troops all over the world, and has been honored by two American presidents
Bob Hamer’s book, Enemies Among Us, doesn’t read like a work of fiction—it reads like real life. Only it’s a life among dark criminal subcultures that most of us will, thankfully, never know. That’s because every scene is born of Bob’s personal experience as an undercover FBI agent—and while much of what he did in more than two decades on the job is still classified, many of those incredible experiences find an outlet in Bob’s fiction. If you ever wondered about the threats this country faces that never make the evening news—this book will make you thank God for those who put themselves in harm’s way on the home front so you can sleep safe in your bed. Don’t miss it.
—Chuck Holton, CBN military correspondent and author of A More Elite Soldier and the Task Force Valor series, www.livefire.us
Bob Hamer spent twenty-six years in the FBI—many undercover. He brings a realism to his writing few authors can. He’s been there and takes his reader on the same wild ride he traveled while an undercover G-man. His fiction is as real as it gets. In fact, I wonder if this really did happen.
—Karri Turner, actress from the CBS series JAG and recipient of the 2009 USO “Heart of a Patriot” Award
The best novels tell riveting stories while extolling truth and goodness. Enemies Among Us delivers fully on both counts.
—Bill Myers, best-selling author of Angel of Wrath and The Voice
Enemies Among Us, what a book! I was drawn in right from the start. It was filled with action and drama. Bob Hamer’s Matt Hogan is my kind of hero, a real man. I can’t wait to read his next book.
—Blanca Soto, Miss Mexico, www.blancasoto.net
While deployed to Afghanistan, I read Enemies Among Us. Bob Hamer gives us an edge-of-your-seat thriller that tells an incredible story of terrorism in our country today. He makes it seem all too real. Thanks for the ride.
—Ryan Smith, U.S. Army
With chilling savvy, Bob Hamer throws light on the darkness. Enemies Among Us shatters quixotic notions about life on the streets of Beverly Hills. I’d take Matt Hogan as a neighbor any day.
—Keri Tombazian, radio personality, host of Night Grooves, 94.7 the Wave
Where have all the American heroes gone? You’ll find one of the best and bravest between the covers of Enemies Among Us. Slip on your best Walter Mitty outfit and become Matt Hogan, fearless FBI agent—a tough, no-nonsense hero who rides a motorcycle like a Hell’s Angel and yet merits the love of a good woman and hapless children, like a storybook champion. Hamer writes this tome with all the grit and authenticity of the former Marine veteran and FBI award winner he is, and because he’s lived it, you’ll find yourself living it too; he’s just that good. What are you waiting for? Open the book and get on with it. There are bad guys to beat and a mystery to be solved! America is counting on you.
—Bill Corsair, combat veteran, talk show pioneer, and New York actor
Enemies Among Us is a rip-roaring roller-coaster ride of a read that launches undercover agent Matt Hogan as a rising star in the fictional world of 007s. With unbridled conviction and sheer dogged determination, this maverick undercover FBI agent confronts evil and embraces his own personal demons while facing the daunting task of infiltrating a terrorist cell within the United States. Hamer has so skillfully crafted a character with heart, brains, courage, and faith—and presented him to us in an intoxicating joyride of twisted corridors, evil plots, and surprising self-discovery—we will eagerly be chomping at the bit and craving for more adventures in sequels to come.
—Chele Stanton, actress and gospel recording artist
Riveting and realistic, Hamer’s Enemies Among Us puts you right in the action! The story has momentum from the beginning and builds an intriguing plot that keeps your heart pounding until the very end. I could not put the book down! It was fast-paced, explosive, and definitely packs a punch. Hamer exposes the dark underworld of terrorism as it relates so closely to real world events of today.
—Leslie N. Smith, CPT (Ret.), U.S. Army, Wounded Warrior
Bob Hamer, a real-life FBI undercover veteran, is a deft narrator with a clear eye and strong heart. He brings pitch-perfect detail to a story that is as gripping as it is unsettling. In post-9/11 Los Angeles, there are Enemies Among Us, plotting our destruction from within. They hate us for our freedom, our values, our faith. Hunting them takes courage, personal sacrifice, and skill—but Hamer reveals that, when you go undercover, sometimes it’s just better to be lucky than good. This is a thrilling, timely reminder of who we are fighting . . . and why.
—Brian Alan Ross, New Media Counsel, entrepreneur and family man
As a Hollywood stuntman I enjoy action and drama in the projects that I read. Enemies Among Us provides a portrayal of the intensity and discipline it takes to fight the shadow war in the streets of America. As a stuntman it takes discipline and patience to be successful. After reading Bob’s first book The Last Undercover, a non-fiction chronicle of his life in the FBI and now reading about a new fictional character here, Matt Hogan, I realize it takes discipline and patience to be a successful undercover. Thanks, Bob, for another great read.
—Buddy Sosthand, Hollywood stuntman, 2007 Taurus Award Winner at The World Taurus Stunt Awards in the Best Fight Category for Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest
Enemies Among Us is a suspenseful thriller that engages your mind while giving you great insight into the FBI undercover world. Bob Hamer, a true hero, brings realization to the frightening world of terrorism, all too often missed by many, as to just how close to home it can hit at any moment.
—Laura Orrico, actress, www.lauraorrico.com
Fun to read. Suspenseful and intriguing. Gives amazing first-hand insight into FBI procedures. Action filled yet tender, shows what is being done to fight the war on terror behind the scenes.
—Geneva Somers, actress
Enemies Among Us is a thrilling ride and I enjoyed every moment! If we only had more men like Matt Hogan—a man every woman wants and every man aspires to be!
—Morgan Brittany, actress
Bob Hamer has captured the realities of the enemy we face today in a very credible and exciting book that shows the reader how terrorists are operating in our midst. As one who knows, Bob shows the terrorist network and tactics in a fast moving, fascinating thriller. Thanks Bob for telling people what the enemy is up to.
—LtGen William G. Boykin USA (Ret), former commander of U.S. Army Special Forces
Bob is a great reminder that there’s heroes among us as well!
—Alfonzo Rachel, PJ TV
&nb
sp; Copyright © 2010 by Bob Hamer
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
978-0-8054-4978-5
Fidelis Books, an imprint of B&H Publishing Group
Nashville, Tennessee
Dewey Decimal Classification: F
Subject Heading: SPIES—FICTION ADVENTURE FICTION TERRORISM—FICTION
Publisher’s Note: The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
—Theodore Roosevelt, “Citizenship in a Republic,” Speech at the Sorbonne in Paris, April 23, 1910
CONTENTS
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
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
The entire week was postcard perfect. Unseasonably warm weather continued to bathe the greater Los Angeles area in summerlike conditions. Even though it was the middle of October, it felt like July. Santa Ana winds, blowing in from the desert, pushed the smog toward the ocean, clearing impurities from the sky. Residents and tourists alike paraded up and down the crowded Beverly Hills streets, ducking in and out of boutiques catering to America’s wealthiest. But the sedated buzz of excitement on this chamber of commerce-type evening was interrupted by the roar of a Harley weaving its way through the traffic on Rodeo Drive.
He looked like an urban street warrior—greasy hair, tattered long-sleeve T-shirt, a swastika tattooed on the left side of his neck, and the German SS tattooed on the right. Although he wasn’t “flying colors”—wearing a leather jacket designating an outlaw motorcycle gang affiliation—no one would question Matt Hogan’s credentials. His menacing appearance caught the attention of everyone on the street, and drivers gave him as much leeway as they could provide.
Hogan’s destination on this night was the Mediterranean Enchantment, a favorite restaurant for Beverly Hills’ high and mighty. The food was overpriced and not much better than something you could pick up at a local strip mall falafel joint, but “The Enchantment,” as it was called by Hollywood aristocracy, had ambiance. What that really meant was rooftop diners with their hookah water pipes and two belly dancers performing hourly to the beat of something from the Baghdad Top 40. As with any Saturday night, the restaurant was crowded with the well dressed and the well favored.
Hogan cruised past The Enchantment’s olive green canopy entrance and watched a parking valet take the keys to a car priced higher than Hogan’s net worth. He glared at the older Middle Eastern couple exiting the Rolls Royce Phantom. They in turn stared at this unwashed intruder to their elite community. Hogan wouldn’t be welcomed at the front door, but that was just fine with him. He couldn’t stand the food or the music. Besides, tonight’s business was better suited for the back. He raced down the street, took a hard right at the corner and another hard right onto a paved alley leading to the delivery entrance of the restaurant. He parked his bike in the shadows, further concealing his intentions but not his anger. His persona may have been fiction, but his hatred was real.
He marched toward his destination with the determination of a Nazi storm trooper. A reinforced wrought-iron door led directly to a small office located off the kitchen of The Enchantment. Using his steel-toed Doc Martens, Hogan snapped the latch with one powerful front kick.
“What, you don’t knock?” asked a wide-eyed Karim Ali Abboud sitting alone at his desk, almost choking on his food.
“Not for you,” said Hogan. Then with sarcasm dripping from every word, he added, “Nice security lock. Might want to buy American next time. Costs a little more but keeps you safer.”
In contrast to the near spotless dining room and kitchen, the office was filthy and smelled of day-old garbage, the result of a trash bin just outside an opened window. A mildewed mop stood in one corner, flanked by dead roaches and rat droppings. Against the wall was a small cluttered desk, three cases of inexpensive wine, and stacks of lunch menus.
The fifty-six-year-old Iraqi was a major financial supporter of radical Islamic causes. Thin-framed, his reedlike arms were adorned with a Rolex watch and a gold bracelet. His “designer everything” clothing was in sharp contrast to the intimidating Hogan—white sinew in his mid-thirties.
“What’s the holdup now, and why isn’t this happening?” demanded Hogan.
“It is. He should be here soon,” whimpered Karim in strongly accented English.
“That’s what you said on the phone an hour ago and three hours before that.” Hogan spit a large chunk of tobacco on the floor, another health-code violation, but even if he cared, Karim was too fearful to protest.
“Please, give it some more time. You Americans are so impatient. Have an appetizer.”
Karim pointed to a plate of dolma and flat bread. Hogan grunted an expletive, picked up a handful of the delicacies, and flung them across the small office. Rice, ground lamb, and grape leaves all but covered the tiny room.
A startled Karim rose from his chair, attempting to make his way toward the door to the kitchen.
With a powerful left hand, Hogan grabbed the Iraqi’s bony shoulder and threw him back into his chair.
“Sit down!”
Karim obeyed. “Please, my friend, soon, very soon your product will arrive.”
Both remained silent for a few moments as a tentative calm prevailed. Hogan glowered at a weak Karim, who immediately fixed his gaze on the floor. Machiavelli was right, thought Hogan, it is better to be feared than lov
ed. And Hogan loved being the alpha male.
When that thought passed, Hogan continued to press. “This isn’t the way I do business. If your man can’t produce, then I’m outta here.”
Karim, seeing profit slipping out the back door, pleaded, “You got the sample. My product is good.”
“Anybody can produce a high-grade taste. It’s quantity my people want.”
Hogan’s people did demand more. The sample of heroin, imported from Afghanistan, graded out at over 90-percent pure. Street level “smack” was 2–3 percent. Karim’s sample was pure poison, instant death, but a small sample was insufficient for Hogan’s purposes. To prove he was a capable supplier, Karim was going to have to produce the kilo Hogan ordered.
“Your people will get quantity and quality.”
“Yeah, but how much longer do I have to wait?”
“You’ll never find better product.”
“Yeah, well you’ll never find greener money or a safer outlet.”
Karim tried to screw up his courage and attempted to respond with conviction. “So you say.”
Hogan liked the feistiness his newfound terrorist friend displayed and accepted the challenge. “Hey, you don’t trust me? Then all I have to do is hop on the hog and blow this camel-jockey slop house.”
Karim backed down immediately. “Give him a little longer.”
“Get him on his cell phone and find out where he’s at. I’ve got people to answer to, and they don’t like waitin’.”