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THE MISSILE GAME
"You can read it on a single flight."
“Could be developed into a season of 24 - it's that fast - it's that engrossing."
Men Reading Books
Chaos erupts in a small town when a hidden missile base is discovered in an abandoned farmhouse.
... An ISIS terrorist cell is building a secret missile base deep in rural North Carolina.
... A criminal mastermind is developing his own fleet of deadly laser-firing drones.
... It seems as though war on U.S soil is imminent, and it’s up to Dr. Scott James to stop the carnage.
... He'll need the help of Elizabeth Keyes, his beautiful new companion.
... But can he trust her?
KEYES DROVE AWAY FROM the garage and through the back streets. Her face was red and she was breathing excitedly. “There’s no time to waste, Scott. You promised to help me, and now you have to fulfill that promise. I’ve looked everywhere in the hospital for the drone control center and have tried to follow Waters to it. Even though he stays somewhere in the hospital when he’s firing his missiles, I’ve never been able to find him.”
“I don’t understand why you need me.”
“I’ve been all over his Penthouse and there’s no control station there. I’ve even placed surveillance cameras all over the hospital and the Penthouse. His drones are flying over Iraq now as we speak. He’ll go to his station to fire his missiles sometime today, which means that I’m dead soon if we can’t figure this out.”
“I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
“You know the hospital better than anyone, and you know Waters. Maybe you can think of something I’ve missed.”
Looking at her, I saw something I’d never seen before: Panic.
My head was screaming. “I’m not going to help you bomb the hospital.”
“There may be another way.”
She looked at me.
“Scott, they’re going to kill me.”
“They’re going to kill me, too,” I said, “But if there are missiles somewhere waiting to be fired, and if Waters is in the hospital, then a lot of people will be killed in a missile attack on him. I will not be a part of that!”
Suddenly, Keyes’ phone signaled a text message. She read it aloud. “Celena: Waters has disappeared.”
“Scott, maybe I can kill Waters and deactivate his control center. Maybe that will be enough. Maybe we can find Waters and stop him. If we do that, then maybe they won’t launch the missiles.”
I pleaded with her. “Let’s alert the police. Maybe I can convince them that this is a real terrorist threat.”
She made a sharp turn, which threw me against the car door. “Look, Scott, Farok programmed my cell phone for me. If I press “6” and “Send,” the missiles are sent. But if I press “8” and “Send” a suicide bomber will come. I never had any intention of dialing six and calling for missiles.”
“This is bullshit! These guys want to reap massive destruction on America! They’re just like the 9-11 attackers! And they’re not going to let you get in their way!” I yelled. “Where are these missiles? We have to stop them! Now!”
I picked up her phone to call the police. “Where are the DAMNED MISSILES?!” I shouted.
Keyes looked at me, eyes wide and mouth open. “I … I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me! WHERE ARE THEY?!”
She shook her head. “They don’t tell all their operatives everything. I learned that in the Al Qaeda training. In case someone is captured and tortured, they don’t know certain information. But Anna Duke will know.”
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