Scott Jensen is very high up in the Department of Defense Intelligence division. When an Apache helicopter is shot down over Afghanistan and a squad of soldiers is almost wiped out Scott must find out how the enemy got such powerful weapons. As Scott starts looking into a very rich man and friend of the President he is shut out of the investigation and pressured to leave it alone. The only thing Scott can do is go to an old friend Brooke Kinley a reporter and leak her information she needs to start an investigation. Scott puts his career in danger and without realizing it he puts his and Brooks's life on the line. As Brooke begins her investigation she goes into the Canadian wilderness and discovers people are willing to kill to make sure America suffers even greater losses than a downed Apache. Now from her location and Scott from his must do what they can to save the nation from a devastating terrorist attack.
PATRIOT, is an action adventure based on the intelligent and determined reporter Brooke Kinley and her college flame Scott Jenson who is an Deputy Director in Defense Intelligence. Each character approaches the investigation from their own angle, with people helping them. A.S. bond makes this work and keeps the story exciting and the search ongoing. You know there is a mole and you are never quite sure how far up the chain of command the corruption goes. The characters are people you can connect with and will enjoy reading about. No one person is super human and they all work well in conjunction with each other. PATRIOT by A.S. Bond is a book I would recommend to readers who enjoy a thriller.
What would you do for your country? In Afghanistan, a US
Army Patrol is devastated by an enemy with sophisticated
weaponry, while in D.C., Pentagon staffer Scott Jenson tips
off the ambitious young reporter Brooke Kinley about a
billionaire businessman's involvement in terrorism. But why
is the White House determined to protect this businessman,
and why does the answer seem to lie in the Canadian
wilderness? In a dangerous journey to the remotest parts of
the world and the darkest corners of men's hearts, Brooke
races to prevent a catastrophic attack on America, but can
she uncover the real traitor?
Advance Praise for Patriot:
"'Patriot' moves at a cracking pace, Homeland channelled by
Bear Grylls... the name's Bond, AS Bond, watch this space."
Nick Hazlewood, screen writer and author of 'Savage'.
Patriot is a pulse pounding, high octane adventure thriller
with an insider's view of Washington and a heroine who is as
happy running rapids as she is asking difficult questions at
the Pentagon. For fans of Clive Cussler, Tom Clancy or
Robert Ludlum.
EXCERPT
โScramble Scramble Scramble!โ The call came at the start of
the shift. For
Captain Brad Jones and his crew, every trip into combat
began with those
three words and a siren, now yowling over the desert
airfield. Barely seven
minutes later, Brad guided his AH-64E Apache gunship into
the air. In the
front of the tandem cockpit, Bradโs friend, Gunner Chuck
Willows, sat at the
controls of the Target Acquisition and Designation System.
This was a mission they had flown several times; racing to
the scene of an
ambush to take out a Taliban position.
โBe advised, we have a small arms fire report and three
explosions.โ The
voice of Joe Blake, Detachment Command back in the Tactical
Operations
Centre, crackled in Bradโs ear. โAnd there are two civilian
journalists
embedded with the platoon.โ
โCopy that.โ Two miles out from the target, Brad flew the
Apache above the
bed of a dried up wadi. Lower than much of the surrounding
countryside, he
knew it would be invisible to the enemy until the last
possible moment. The
ground flashed by, a herd of goats fled in terror and a
small boy waved a
stick at the helicopter. Tomorrowโs enemy, thought Brad as
he banked to the
left, following the dry water course.
โHalf a mile, Captain.โ Chuck called out the range to
target.
โGoing visual.โ Brad eased up the Apache to a hundred feet.
Ahead, he saw
smoking ruins of an Afghan compound sheltering the American
patrol and the
flash of gunfire from insurgents on other side of the
valley.
โThis is Crazy Horse One Seven, we have forty individuals
with weapons, two
hundred meters from the compound, over.โ reported Chuck to
Command, reading
the screens.
โCrew, we have personnel west of your position, over.โ
replied Command.
โWe have visual on the target. No strobes. Repeat, no
strobes. Confirm
position of friendlies, over.โ
โRoger that. Friendlies going green, over.โ
Moments later, clouds of luminous green smoke billowed up
from the compound.
Smoke grenades.
โCopy that Command, we have visual on the friendlies. Be
advised weโre gonna
set up an inbound run, over.โ Brad levelled out the chopper.
โRange Mike Bravo 565888617.โ
โMike Bravo 56888617 copy that.โ
โClear to fire.โ
โFiring.โ
A staccato of 30mm rounds from the Apacheโs cannon sliced
into the fields and
the enemy fire over the compound lessened.
โGood shooting.โ said Command, as Brad banked away from the
immediate danger
zone.
โWe got multiple enemy positions here.โ Chuck watched the
screen and counted
the heat signatures of at least two dozen more Taliban
hiding in the fields.
โThis is gonna go high risk. Thereโs a group with rocket
launchers at four
hundred meters.โ
โYou got auto range on it?โ asked Brad.
โAffirmative.โ
Chuck pressed a button and Brad felt the deck tremble as a
Hellfire missile
shot away from the Apache. On the other side of the valley,
the missile
exploded a Taliban position, taking a rocky outcrop with it
and leaving a
huge crater in the hillside. The smell of cordite filtered
through the
cockpit.
Immediately, Brad swung away the gunship, taking it out of
RPG range. Flying
this low and slow made them easy targets.
โWeโre taking fire from the north!โ shouted Chuck, as if on
cue. Red lights
blazed across the central warning panel in the Apache.
โMissile lock!โ
โWhat the hell?!โ muttered Brad, as he instinctively pulled
the helicopter
into a hard evasive turn, raising the collective for full
power, and pushing
forward the cyclic to gain speed. Flares and chaff deployed
automatically
from pods, designed to confuse and misdirect any heat or
radar seeking
missile.
โI got visual on the launch. Incoming โ get us outta here,
man!โ
โIโm on it.โ Brad focused on flying the chopper as hard and
as fast as he
could towards the wadi.
The missile flew an almost perfect circle, 2000 feet above
the helicopter;
its internal microprocessors comparing the heat and the
electromagnetic
signatures from its target with the data profile in its
systems. As though
making a conscious decision, the missile banked over and
descended towards
the Apache.
โItโs on our ass, man.โ reported Chuck. โDo your thing.โ
โWhere the f*** did the Taliban get a SAM?โ Brad shouted as
he drove the
Apache down into the wadi, hoping to lose the missile in the
tight turns and
confusion of the terrain.
Behind them and closing, the missile passed through the
cloud of metallic
chaff, its sensors registering them as a possible target,
but the
electromagnetic signature detectors instantly overrode the
signal. The
missile pressed on, homing in on the fleeing Apache.
Brad, his hands clenched and sweating on the controls, took
a bend, and
glimpsed a group of insurgents hit the ground below him. A
small โ a very
small - part of his brain registered a flash of bright
blonde hair among
them, then he saw the missile take the bend too.
โI canโt lose it โ f***, what is that thing? Chuck, on my
mark, hit it with
all the CM we have left and brace yourself. Iโm gonna try
something.โ
โDo it.โ
Brad gave the Apache full power and headed straight towards
the high bluff
edge.
โ3,2,1 MARK.โ Chuck nailed the countermeasures button and
braced himself for
the move. Brad yanked back on the controls, pointing the
gunshipโs nose at
the sky and putting it in a high vertical climb, more like a
fighter plane
than a helicopter. Struggling against the effects of the G
force required to
pull this unconventional manoeuvre, he prayed the missile
would lose their
trail in the counter measures and impact on the wall of the
wadi.
At the same instant the missile passed through the chaff and
easily made the
turn up and out. The vertical climb slowed the helicopter
and the missile
closed the gap until it was within a meter or two of its
quarry. The onboard
proximity censors matched the helicopterโs EM signature and
the warhead
detonated. Brad and Chuck were briefly aware of an intense
light, before a
wave of heat and pressure enveloped them.
The Apache hurtled into the sky, its rotor blades spiralling
futilely before
they gouged into the sand. The fuselage continued to
somersault upwards,
until it seemed finally to surrender, and smashed into the
hot, dry earth
below
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