Triple Cross is technically in the Dixon-Prince universe, but it isn’t part of the main storyline. There are a couple of characters that cross over, but it is mostly out of convenience. Oddly, there is a more solid connection in one of the books currently in progress. In Sniper (which is about one of Jack Dixon’s security people) we will find out how Ellen Stewart was pulled into the Dixon-Prince world.

Tuesday, October 20^th–

Christi bounded over the forest roads like a rally driver, catching air on some of the rises and sliding the little SUV through turns sideways.  She’d found a route over the mountains on backroads that would get her out of Colorado quickly and she could be a couple of hours into Arizona by daybreak.  With any luck, she would be in Vegas by late-afternoon.  Dinner at the latest. 

As she drove just outside St. George, Utah, she picked up one of the burner phones she’d acquired.  She dialed a number and waited as the phone rang. 

“Joseph,” she said when the man answered after the third ring, “you lied to me.  You said you were going to keep Jason safe and not let the Russians follow-through on their plan.  You let them kill the Senator and you have left Jason holding the bag for something you know he didn’t do.”

“Miss Nova,” Sanders replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  You have gone rogue and helped your boyfriend kill a US Presidential candidate… an honored Senator.  How much have the Russians paid you to turn your back on this country which has done so much for you?”

She pulled to the side of the road and pulled up the internet on another phone.  She opened her bank account and found the balance to be just over ten million dollars.  If they wanted to play that game… make it look like she took the money, she would take it and then use it to fund their downfall.  She quickly keyed in a series of transfers, eventually leading to an account in the Caymans that she’d been using to shelter money she was saving.  It wasn’t traceable for either the Russians or the Americans.  She only left a few hundred dollars in the account so she could ping it to throw off pursuit.

“You tell me, Joseph.  I’m sure you’re the one that authorized the transfers.  I should have known you were lying to me the whole time.  I won’t make the same mistake twice.  How long have you been cooperating with the SVR?”

“Again, Miss Nova, I surely don’t have any idea what you are talking about.”

She ended the call and pulled back out onto the road.  A couple of miles later, she pulled into a gas station and filled up the Cherokee, using her debit card.  It would be a loud ping to anyone searching for her.  After pumping the gas, she walked into the store and picked up a few snacks.  She bumped into a man coming around the end of one of the aisles, dropping the phone into his pocket.  Two minutes later and she was back on the road, headed west toward Las Vegas.  Her phone was headed south. 

Her third phone pinged a file upload notification.  She picked it up and looked at it as she drove along the deserted road.  She was pretty sure that would be the last piece she needed. 

***

Joseph Sanders hung up the phone.  He was pissed.  When he’d originally taken over handling Christina Nova, his primary goal had been getting in her pants.  She was hot, and as far as he was concerned, that was her primary attribute.  She was already involved with the Russians, but to his knowledge, they hadn’t used her for anything of value.  He just assumed that the only reason they kept her around was because of her parents, and possibly to use in a honey-trap. 

Then they had started talking about this business with Ross.  At first, he didn’t know who it was actually being set up by… but they were running it.  When she approached him about the Russian involvement, he reported it to his superiors, and he was told to let it run its course.  After a few weeks, he figured out what was really happening.  By then, he was in too deep.  He was implicated and there was no way out unless the op ran to completion.  She hadn’t been the one that played him, but he’d been too busy staring at her ass to see what was really going on. 

“Max,” he said when he placed his call, using his normal trace masking service, “we have a problem.”

…

“She knows.  Nova might not know that Connors is pulling the strings, but she knows that we’re talking.  And she might be smart enough to figure out Connors, and then that Hayes is connected to this.”

…

“Las Vegas or Phoenix would be my guess.  I had her in southwest Utah a few minutes ago.  The phone is still active.  It looks like it’s headed to Phoenix, but Vegas isn’t out of the question.  Do you have assets that can take care of her?”

…

“As soon as she lights somewhere, I’ll get the location to you,” Sanders said before ending the call.

***

Sitting in a rest area off I-15, just outside of Las Vegas, Christi listened to Sanders’ end of the phone call he’d made to Maxin Bogdanov.  “I got you, bastard.  Now I just need the evidence to hang the rest of your friends,” she said in triumph. 

She pulled out of the rest area and rejoined traffic headed to Las Vegas.  She had a few more tricks up her sleeve.  Hopefully, she’d be alive to make them happen.  But first, she needed to sit down with her computer and put together a care package for Detective Clay.  He seemed like a smart and curious cop, and if so, he would be ready for another piece of the puzzle.  First, she had another call to make.

“Ellen, it’s Christi.  Please help him,” she said as soon as her friend picked up the phone.

“Christi?  Oh my God, where are you?” was the reply. 

“That isn’t important.  What is important is keeping him from getting killed.  There are powerful people that REALLY want him dead before he casts any doubt on being the killer.  He didn’t do this.”

“I know he didn’t.  But, right now, more than anything he wants to protect Jane, and I will do everything I can to help him… and help him protect her.”

Christi could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.  “You’re a good friend, Ellen.  I’m so thankful for you.  Jane is the only person more important to me than Jason.”

“I understand, and you have my word.  I will do everything I can for them,” Ellen replied.

Christi knew how much Ellen cared for Jason.  It had been obvious from the first time they’d met.  She had idolized him then.  He and her brother had been best friends as long as anyone could remember.  Despite her affection for Jason, or maybe because of it, the two women bonded after he left for the Army.  Christi was an only child but had often dreamed of having a little sister.  Ellen had become that little sister to her. 

Ellen hadn’t known, but Christi had been involved behind the scenes in Ellen getting her job.  And several times over the years, Christi had found herself in a place to secretly assist her.  One time, a couple of years before, Ellen had been in Berlin and Christi had seen her in a club.  She had to fight the temptation to talk with her, but she knew that it would be easier for everyone if she remained hidden. 

If she’d known then what she knew now, so many things would be different. 

If you enjoyed this, you should enjoy the rest of it. Triple Cross is a story with Deep Fakes, Deep Cover and a Deep State plot. One soldier stands in the way. All he wants is to prove his innocence.

A question that I’m commonly asked is, in what order should I read your books?Read More

Whatever order you read them in is cool with me, though… as long as you read them. 😉

Another competition piece on Vocal was for a horror contest. It isn’t something that I have written much of, but I thought I’d give it a rip. This is the beginning of the result. You can see the whole piece over here on Vocal. Read More

When the fog receded, nothing else would be touched.  Flowers would bloom, trees would bear fruit.  Tools would sit as they were left.  But nothing that walked remained, nor a trace.  No people or dogs or cats of squirrels.  And no bodies. 

I hope you enjoyed this. You can catch the rest of it on Vocal, or check out my full profile to see everything I have over there. You can also hit up my Amazon Author page to see my novels… I should have a new one coming out in a few weeks.

Over on Vocal there is a huge Winter Fiction Short Story contest. I have a couple of stories entered, and will be entering a couple more over the coming weeks. This is the beginning of the first one. It can be found here.

Edward stepped off the plane and walked down the stairs, evoking a thirty-nine-year-old memory.  Back then, as a child travelling with his parents Ecuador was exotic and new.  He was thrilled, riding the high of expectations despite the exhaustion of travel.  He remembered stepping to the bottom of the plane’s stairs outside of the terminal and walking across the apron toward Customs.  There had been a line of soldiers preventing the new arrivals from skipping past the Customs line, and he dutifully followed along. Read More

This is from my Vocal feed. You can find the complete story here. I’d love for you to check out my pieces on Vocal. Most are around 2000 words, so they are pretty quick to read. Of course, you can also hit up my Amazon Author profile to see my full length novels.

Yeah, so I’m a little late today. I’ve been working on my NaNoWriMo project (National Novel Writing Month) so I have been a little preoccupied. For NaNoWriMo I am writing a 50k word novel. It isn’t going as well as I’d like, but I have been staying on track as far as word counts.

Back to the reviews.

For independent authors, reviews are like lifeblood. More reviews means more visibility. More visibility means more sales. More sales means more opportunity for reviews.

A vicious circle.

The big publishers spend big money to get those early reviews. Some independent authors do as well, but for many of us, buying a bunch of positive reviews is either not practical or not something we are comfortable with. There have been more than a couple of books I’ve read that did NOT match up to their reviews.

One of the worst books I have ever read had an average review of over 4.5 stars on Amazon. These weren’t typos. Were talking about structural deficiency. Characters couldn’t have been more two-dimensional if they had been drawn on the page with crayon. Their reactions, their descriptions… everything. The action was predictable.

But worse than that, it was more like reading a book report by a twelve-year-old about a book written by another twelve-year-old… not even talented sixth graders. Major plot conflicts would be resolved invisibly. Kidnapping, held-hostage, suddenly and inexplicably freed… no narrative needed.

Bottom line… give me a read. Then, it would be really cool if you gave me a review. Thank you.

This should be my next book, but the name is going to change. It’s tough to come up with good excerpts that don’t give too much of the story away or spoil surprises that might be in the book.

Owen and Taki bookended Deke and Jimmy as they walked back to one of the black armored Excursions that the company owned.  Dutch and three other guards climbed into an identical truck ahead of them.  The two vehicles pulled out of the cemetery and turned toward the cabin.  From where they were, it would be about an hour’s drive. 

Deke put his arm around his son’s shoulder and pulled him closer.  At five years old, he understood what death meant, but the finality was only now sinking in.  As he realized that his mother would never hug him again, that he wouldn’t be able to show her his latest drawing, tears started to fall from his eyes in earnest.  Even with the few words he’d been able to utter to his father, or that Taki had told his father he’d uttered to her, the older man knew exactly what he was feeling. 

“Jimmy, you know I talk to Mommy every night.  I know that she isn’t there… but I still talk to her.  You can, too,” Deke said. 

“Can she hear you?”

“I think she can, son.  I think she’s in heaven watching over us.  I know that more than anything she would want to watch you grow up… and if she can’t do it here, heaven for her would mean watching you from there.”

“Ok.  I’ll try that.  I have her picture in my room… I’ll tell her picture.  It won’t be the same, but you’re probably right… she probably can listen to us.  I just wish she could talk back,” Jimmy said. 

“Me, too, buddy.  Me, too.”

The Excursion made the turn onto Ridgeback Road.  As much as everyone hated it, there was no way to drive to the cabin without driving past the spot Helena had died.  They would have gone somewhere else, but father and son both felt closer to her at the cabin.  It was the place she loved to be more than any other. 

The front Excursion exploded in a fireball in front of them, lifting off the ground and landing on its side.  Owen slammed on the brakes.  He smacked the shifter into reverse as the big diesel engine revved.  The rear tires spun as the axle hopped, looking for traction.  There was a Suburban behind them, and as they backed toward them, it turned to block the road. 

“Hold on, I have to ram it.  They’re blocking us in,” Owen said.  His voice carried force, but he didn’t yell the words. 

Taki pulled her handgun from her shoulder holster as she looked through the windows around the big SUV, looking for other threats. 

Their Excursion bashed into the back half of the Suburban, spinning it in the road and pushing it up on its side as bullets ricocheted off their truck.  Owen spun the wheel to the left, causing them to spin around.  He slammed the SUV into drive and stomped on the gas.  The rear glass spiderwebbed from larger caliber rounds hitting it. 

A box truck slid to a stop barely in front of them, pushing them off the side of the road.  Owen did his best to point the truck straight downhill to keep it from rolling.  They bashed through scrub and bounced over rocks as they sped down the steep incline. 

Just before they hit the lower section of road, the Excursion hit a large rock on the passenger side, forcing the truck up on its driver’s side as it hit the road. 

“Nine-one-one, what’s the nature of your emergency?” played over the truck’s speakers as Owen made the call. 

“We’re on Ridgeback Road, between the third and fourth switchback.  We’re being shot at,” he yelled, grimacing.  Blood was trickling down the side of his head, and there was a splatter of it on the inside of the window next to him where his head had stuck. 

“We have to get out of here,” Deke said. 

“This thing is a tank.  We should stay put,” Owen replied. 

“Like Dutch’s truck?  We’re getting out,” Deke repeated. 

“Mr. Swanson is right.  We need to get out and get away before they show up,” Taki said. 

She popped her seatbelt and fell on top of Owen with a grunt.  Deke undid his seatbelt and then Jimmy’s, as he held the boy in place.  Jimmy looked around, in shock, not understanding what was happening around him. 

Deke maneuvered past the back seat into the back of the SUV, with Jimmy following.  Taki crawled back to where they were and opened a compartment in the back.  There was a pair of rifles clamped in the hidden stash.  She pulled a release and the back door unlatched so she could open it.  She handed Deke her pistol and stepped out the back, rifle in hand. 

Owen came up behind them.  He grabbed the other rifle and squeezed around them to get out of the truck.  He wanted to be sure the area was secure before he let Jimmy and Deke out into the open. 

A round pinged off the tailgate from the road a hundred feet above. 

“Break for the downhill side on my mark.  That should be closer to the police when they come, and any pursuit coming from up the road will have trouble getting past here,” Owen said.  “When I say go, you three take it.  Ok?”

“What about you?” Deke asked. 

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Owen stepped around the back of the truck and put his sights on the black Mercedes that had just come around the switchback a hundred yards away.  He unloaded a thirty-round magazine as Taki led Jimmy and Deke over the edge of the road.  He grabbed another magazine and snapped it into the rifle.  He stepped around the truck and emptied that one at the car as well.  Steam poured from the unprotected radiator. 

Swapping mags again, and grabbing a spare, he readied himself to make his sprint toward the far side of the road.  Using the truck as cover he started his run.  He built up his momentum and exploded out from behind the truck, jumping off the side of the road as rounds slammed into the ground behind him and into the trees above him. 

He landed and tried to tuck and roll, but failed miserably, landing on one leg and then smacking into a tree.  The rifle flew out of his hands, bouncing away down the hill as he dropped to the ground at the base of the tree, unable to move. 

I hope you enjoyed this. The previous part was posted Monday. If you liked this, check out my Amazon Author page. I have eight books currently posted, and this one should be there before the end of the year! You can also check out my short stories on Vocal.