ALL ACTION THRILLER BOXSET: THREE MURRAY MCDONALD STANDALONE THRILLERS

by Murray Mcdonald

  As Butler finished his explanation, Bill rose and left the room. His departure went unnoticed. His arrival five minutes later made a far greater impression.

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked, holding up the item he thought had been Lauren’s cell.

  Butler raced around the table and grabbed it from him, looking at it closely. “I have no idea, but why do you think it would be?” he asked, suddenly embarrassed, as he had no idea what the switch would look like anyway.

  Bill quickly explained the story to the group of the old Chinese man he had killed and on leaving the premises had mistaken the item for his niece’s cell. She had told him it wasn’t but he had kept it anyway. He held up a laptop case. “This was with it,” he said.

  When he announced that he had since found out that the old man was President Junpeng’s brother, an audible gasp was heard from those who were not already aware.

  A Japanese officer rose and asked to see the laptop case. He explained that he understood Chinese. He opened the case and the laptop. It opened immediately to something that instantly excited him. He asked to see the cell that accompanied it. He examined both intently as the room held its breath.

  “This is it! This is the key!” he said confidently, breaking into a grin. “I hit this and it all switches back on. This cell tracks the Chinese satellites that are still up there and will send the signal to them to beam back down.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t hit it!” shouted Butler, diving across the table.

  Chapter 82

  “Mr. President, I’m afraid I really must insist we leave now,” said his security chief.

  Ilya looked at his office for the last time, albeit temporary, given they had already destroyed his original one, but it was the principle. They had ousted him from his country. The Chinese forces had made it to the outskirts of the city, less than thirty miles away. At the speed they were progressing, they’d be at the Kremlin walls in less than an hour.

  He grabbed his cell from his desk, just as his landline phone began to ring.

  “Mr. President, we must go now!” insisted his security man.

  Ilya picked up the phone. “Hello?” he answered.

  “Ilya, my friend?”

  Ilya recognized the voice, but it couldn’t be. “Jack?”

  “Yep! How are you, my friend?”

  “Could be better, Jack. Would you mind if we continue this from my cell?” The sounds of explosions were beginning to rock the building.

  “You going somewhere?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well you just sit back down and let one friend repay another!”

  “If only Jack. But I’m afraid it’s too late,” replied Ilya dejectedly, unable to hear even himself from the noise of aircraft overhead.

  Ilya looked at his security man whose head was tight against the window looking into the sky.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It looks like the Americans!” the man said.

  “What Americans?”

  “All of them!!”

  ***

  Butler had stopped them pressing the button for one simple reason. The moment they pressed it, they would let it be known that they had control back. He had been warned by his IT gurus that whatever they did, if they sent a signal, it had to be the one designed to kill the on-off capability. It took them less than half an hour to change the code that would be sent to the Chinese satellites to reinstate the US military. The code would reactivate the chips but more importantly, would be permanent. The code would stop the Chinese or anyone ever again switching off the chips and with them, the entire US military machine.

  With the code being sent, it was a case of sitting back and waiting to see if it would work. It didn’t take long. Communications burst to life, as the advanced communications systems, meant to withstand a nuclear attack, began to explode with the sound of the military being reawakened. Despite the lack of power, the redundancy systems which were designed for that eventuality kicked in immediately. The might of the US military was back on line and Jack wasted no time in taking full control.

  He initiated a coordinated fight back. The small Chinese forces that had held the powerless might of the American bases at bay were quickly eliminated. Chinese soldiers began to surrender across the States, realizing they were in no position to win, given how dramatically the tables had turned.

  ***

  General Petlin tried for hours to reinstate the ‘kill switch’ in the chips before finally conceding defeat. The great takeover was over. He contacted President Junpeng for authority to surrender. He refused, demanding that they hold on. His army was just days away. The victory was theirs for the taking. General Petlin disagreed and received a torrent of abuse. The news that their imminent taking of Moscow had failed because of the intervention of a massive airstrike by the Americans on the outskirts of Moscow was still not sufficient for the Chinese president to concede defeat.

  At that point, and with the knowledge of a massive airstrike and overwhelming forces about to attack the camp, General Petlin took the decision to offer, against his president’s wishes, an unconditional surrender of all Chinese forces in America. He told the advancing American forces that he was not willing to die for a madman. He even requested asylum to avoid returning to China. It was not granted. Despite the refusal, he switched the rest of America back on. Power and utilities that had been controlled by the Trust and modernized to allow them total control of the systems were switched back on. It was as easy as switching on a light.

  ***

  In a matter of hours, America had shown what its military was capable of. The power of the forces unleashed against the Chinese in Russia by the US Air Force would be a lesson to everyone. The invasion was stopped with one air strike, which delivered more explosive force in one day than had been delivered in the history of the world. The Chinese were quite literally stopped in their tracks. Again, a surrender was offered by the military leaders despite their president’s refusal.

  With his armies across the world surrendering, President Junpeng had no option but to issue a statement that all hostilities had been ended. It was an attempt at face saving, suggesting he had ordered the surrenders.

  What Jack had anticipated would take weeks, took hours. The Chinese had known they were no match for the Americans, at least an America not crippled by their deceit and deviousness. With victory secured, he was keen to speak to the people and as power was restored, it came far quicker than he expected. A hasty broadcast was arranged and with little time for preparation, Jack decided that speed was more important than content. He’d wing it.

  “My fellow Americans, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be sitting before you today, with our liberty and freedom restored. A liberty and freedom that has never been in such jeopardy since the birth of our great nation. We have lost many great people, loved ones, family members over the last few weeks and let us not ever forget the price they paid for our freedom. I have many people to thank, too many to mention right now but they know who they are and over the coming weeks and months, I will ensure they receive the awards and recognition they deserve. Now is about normality, it’s about getting back to the life and liberty that we as Americans have fought and died to preserve. It has been a week that we have to remember for our future but for our present may be best forgotten. Actions of the many will have outweighed the few. Let us not dwell on the worst but those that behaved best. We are Americans, we are free and we are strong. God Bless America!”

  The camera stopped rolling as Jack accepted the cell that was being handed to him.

  “Jack,” said Ilya, in a far more relaxed tone.

  “Ilya, my friend.”

  “How are things?”

  “Very good, Jack, very good, they’re running back home,” he laughed. “It was a very impressive show.”

  “I don’t believe in messing around.”

  “Remind me never to piss you off,” Ilya joked.

&nbs
p; Jack smiled. “Hit hard and hit fast, my friend!”

  Chapter 83

  Monday July 27th 2015

  The White House

  Normality had been restored across the country far quicker than anticipated. With power, came gas. With gas, came the ability to move product. With product, came the ability to make money. And so the cycle returned to normal. The Trust’s businesses were under the control of the government but with a view to being distributed evenly as a share give-away to the nation. At least something good was going to come of it.

  Jack had selected a new cabinet and had also replaced the military senior roles. He had seen it as an absolute priority, if not only just to let Frank have a good night’s sleep, knowing there were alternates.

  His one regret was that President Junpeng remained in power. He would dearly have loved to have stormed in and removed him. However, it had been made clear that he was far too unstable and the likelihood of him firing his nuclear arsenal was just too great. The anticipated internal power overthrow had not occurred either. It seemed he ruled with such authority that it remained unquestioned, despite their humiliating defeat. Of course, the likelihood that the average Chinese citizen had been aware of what had taken place was unlikely. They were fed news the State wanted them to hear, nothing else.

  The boats bound for America full of Chinese troops were still being escorted back to Chinese waters. Jack didn’t even want to imagine the numbers involved but he had heard guesses of nearly two million Chinese crammed onto anything that would float. Every time he thought of what they would have done with their military might, he shuddered. They had come so close.

  He stopped thinking the worst. Today was about the best. A list of people were waiting to receive awards from him. He would have loved for all of the sixty thousand men who had stood with him on the battlefield to be there but there were limits to what he could do in one day. Another mass event was scheduled at the Redskins Stadium, where he would honor them personally. A representative group was in attendance, the commander of each and every group that had come to the aid of the nation.

  Each received a Distinguished Service Cross, a new award not for any of the current services, but a new one for Patriots. Each of the sixty thousand would receive theirs at the stadium.

  A long line of military and civil awards were handed out over the course of the afternoon, as stories of individual heroism and selflessness were rewarded.

  With the main ceremony over, Jack returned to his residence where he had arranged for a more private event consisting of a very small group of special attendees.

  His cousin Victor, Tom Butler, Jane Swanson and Bill Swann stood up as he entered the yellow Oval Room.

  The rest of the afternoon and into the evening was spent thanking the small group that had helped save the nation. Jack pulled them all aside, one at a time, and presented them with an award. All accepted, except Bill. He didn’t want an award, he wanted something else. Jack listened and dearly wanted to do it for him but didn’t think it possible. He promised to try. Butler and Swanson accepted their awards, which included Butler receiving a senior role within Jack’s National Intelligence team. His pay would be backdated to when he had been terminated from the CIA, a very welcome bonus. His first action was to offer Swanson a job. She flatly refused and included expletives, despite the president being there. Victor was delighted to receive his but turned down the opportunity to rejoin the military. He had his men to think of and he was just as happy knowing his cousin was back in his life.

  As the evening drew to a close and he was saying his goodbyes, Jack held Butler and Swanson back.

  “Follow me,” he said and took them through his lounge and bedroom and into his study. A newly rebuilt column stood before them.

  Butler and Swanson looked at one another. The column had been repaired.

  Jack walked over to the column and triggered the release mechanism; it spun to reveal the capsule.

  “Don’t tell Frank,” he said, laughing conspiratorially. “He thinks it’s been sealed.”

  “It’s fully working?” asked Butler.

  “Put it this way, anytime you fancy a drink, I know this great little bar called the Raven,” said Jack.

  The End…

  Well not quite…

  Epilogue

  October 1st 2015

  Bill had enjoyed trying out all of the latest sniper weapons available to the forces. He had to admit the Barrett M82A1 was an impressive killing machine and with the current record for a confirmed kill, it certainly was a good option. Its only real downside was that the .50 caliber round was a little too obvious. On the range, he had managed to be fairly accurate out to around twenty-five hundred yards, by far the furthest of the weapons he had tried. The next best was the Accuracy International AWSM, a much smaller .338 and very familiar round for him but he had managed decent accuracy out to twenty-two hundred yards.

  “We’ve got three minutes before the train leaves and it’ll take us one minute to get there unhurried,” said Butler.

  “In other words, I have ninety seconds?” asked Bill.

  “Yep!” replied Butler, soaking in the autumn sunshine.

  The weather report had been for a cloudless blue sky, very unlike the previous few days and from the reports, it seemed the poor weather was due to return the next day. Butler hadn’t doubted for a second it would be anything but perfect weather.

  “Thirty seconds,” said Butler, looking behind to check Swanson was still there. She had accepted his job offer after some persuasion. It was the foreign travel that had secured it. Apparently seeing the world had become far more important to her of late. That trip in particular had swung it.

  Bill relaxed and steadied his breathing. The conditions were perfect, which was just as well. The distance was a little over the twenty-two hundred yards, which had led him to select the smaller and more familiar .338 caliber rifle. It was, however, still well under the record with the rifle. Some Brit had managed over twenty-seven hundred yards but he had the benefit of a few rounds to gauge the flight. Bill had one shot.

  He lined the sights, made one final tweak, steadied his breathing and depressed the trigger. He stood up immediately, not waiting for the result, and handed the rifle to Butler before quickly walking to the elevator being held by Swanson. Butler followed, wiping the rifle and depositing it in the setting concrete of Beijing’s newest skyscraper.

  “How did you know the weather would be so good?” asked Swanson as the elevator took them downwards.

  “Chinese Independence Parade day. They fire chemicals into the air. Perfect blue skies make for much better photos of their illustrious president!”

  “Unbelievable! They think of everything,” she said.

  “Well not quite,” said Bill, who had gotten what he asked from the president. Despite Bill’s age, Jack had granted his request. If they only had one chance, he wanted a man with experience to get it done. And no one had proven that more recently than Bill.

  “That’s because people don’t expect to get shot from almost a mile and a half away. Did you hit him?” asked Butler.

  Bill smiled. It was the second time he’d been asked that recently. “I’m an Army sniper!”

  The End

  Critical Error

  by

  Murray McDonald

  Critical Error

  Murray McDonald

  Published by Murray McDonald

  Copyright 2011 Murray McDonald

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Fajr Hotel

  Ahwaz, Iran

/>   September 1st 2007

  Finally, thought Sam, as a hand clamped over his mouth and the cold steel of the blade pressed into his throat, he was getting somewhere.

  “You ask too many questions, my friend!” offered the knifeman. His foul breath hung heavily as he pinned Sam to the small bed.

  The Arab use of the word ‘friend’ was not lost on Sam. He had heard them come for him, clumsy, poorly trained. About the only thing they had got right was the timing. At 4.00 a.m., Sam would have been in a deep sleep, had he not expected his visitors.

  Sam tried to answer, but the hand remained clamped over his mouth.

  “Let him speak,” came a different voice from the doorway, calm and authoritative.

  The boss, thought Sam.

  The knifeman removed his hand from Sam’s mouth, but pushed the blade harder against his neck.

  “Just trying to find my girlfriend,” choked Sam as the knife pressed on his Adam’s apple. “She went missing about a week ago,” he struggled but persevered. “Perhaps you can help me.”

  “Perhaps,” offered the boss. “Can you describe her?”

  The knifeman barely contained a laugh as the boss teased Sam. The hold on the knife relaxed slightly, allowing Sam to speak more freely.

  “About five seven, dark hair, cute. Oh, and she had a CNN van and a cameraman with her. Hard to miss really.”

  “Piercing green eyes, dimples in her cheeks, a tattoo on her left wrist, and far too young for you?” offered the boss.

  Sam nodded, although he didn’t quite agree with the ‘too young’ jibe. He was only ten years older than her.