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James M. Jensen

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Member Since: Apr, 2008

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Project: Sentinel
by James M. Jensen   

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Category: 

Action/Thriller

Publisher:  Publish America ISBN-10:  1605639648 Type: 
Pages: 

227

Copyright:  March 2008
Fiction

A small town murder leads a disgraced cop to the truth behind his fall from grace in Los Angeles and a plot by an Asian madman to steal America's latest technology in hopes of starting World War III.

Publih America

John Black was forced to resign from his job as an LAPD detective by a corrupt supervisor. Now  he has found another job with a small town PD in the pacfic northwest.  He's not proud of his current station in life and he wonders why curcumsatnces have brought him to this point.  But on an overcast midnight shift he stumbles on a murder victim who just haopens to be an old navy buddy. Wondering about the murder and what could have brought his former friend to Nothern Oregon John  begins to uncover a sinister plot by an Asisan madman to steal Americas lastest communications technolgy.  Suddenly John and his new grilfriend find themselves running for their lives from hired killer who are out ot silence them. With the help of an old LAPD partner and some of his former SEAL team members John and Renee slowly uncover a web of deciet and murder all aimed at thrusting the United States into a war with China. All so an Asian businessman can become wealth.


Excerpt

Overton, Oregon P D
Night Shift

According to his wristwatch, it was exactly 11:00 PM as he climbed behind the wheel of his patrol car for the start of another midnight shift. John zipped up his duty jacket against the chill, it was cold and clear tonight the result of the rainstorm that had passed through just hours before leaving and the streets of Overton wet.
John looked out the windshield at the rain-slicked street as he drove and realized that his head was still hurting something fierce, despite the four aspirin, he had taken before work. He concluded that the headache was the result of too little sleep, yeah too little sleep, and the six straight bourbons he'd had before going to bed.
He had been doing that a lot these days he realized, drinking for no real reason except that he felt sorry for himself and figured that getting drunk would somehow help. John didn't think he was going to be very effective tonight, but what the hell he thought this sure wouldn't be the first time he had arrived hung over for his midnight shift.
John wasn't proud of his current station in life as a matter of fact; he often wondered why circumstances had conspired to get him to this point. He was 32 years old, a hair over 6 ft tall and weighed just 200 pounds. Not overweight exactly he mused but maybe a little excess body fat, after all he didn't do much real exercise these days. John's sandy brown hair was cut on the short side and his body was still muscular and firm despite the 200 pounds and lack of exercise. He always tried to look professional. Always keeping his uniform sharp and freshly pressed and his shoes highly shined regardless of anything else. That was one of the few things that he still took real pride in how his uniform looked, and although he did not consider himself a handsome man he did occasionally see one of the local ladies turn and look as he walked or drove by.
He hadn't always been this lax about his fitness he realized. Back when he was in high school, he had been lean, strong, muscular, and good looking with a trim fit athletic body that was the result of constant workouts and a running regiment that had allowed him to become a football and wrestling star as well as a competitive swimmer. In high school he'd been the envy of everyone who knew him mainly because he went steady with Cindy Hampton the most attractive and popular girl in school.
John was also very intelligent and despite his athletic hero status and his social prominence, he always managed to make excellent grades, which pleased his parents immensely. School had come easy for John, even if he was a bit to cocky at 17. When he graduated with honors his folks had wanted him to go to college in the worst way. John's dad had wanted better for his son than working at some dead end job for the rest of his life and he knew that education was the key. John was too hard headed to listen to his parents, he had already made up his mind, he wanted to join the navy and see the world.
John's military career had started just like a lot of other navy recruits with boot camp at the Naval Training Center Great Lakes, Illinois a world away from the laid back west coast where he had grown up. It was the first time he had ever been away from home, and even though he had been lonely at first it had turned out to be 8 of the easiest weeks of his life. John had sailed through with almost no effort on his part graduating at the top of his recruit training class.
After graduation from recruit training and a short leave he had been sent Hampton Roads, Virginia for Master at Arms school where he'd studied to become an anti-terrorism specialist while learning the basics of law enforcement. For John being a Policeman was the ultimate goal in his life and his only real passion. He had wanted to be a cop, for as long as he could remember. Now he was getting his chance, but as he would later find out the navy in its infinite wisdom had something else in mind for him.
After he completed his training in Virginia, he'd been assigned to a shore patrol unit in San Diego near his home and for the first time he was really enjoying life. About 3 months into his assignment, John was approached by one of his officers and asked if he would be interested in putting his anti-terrorism training to use. When he replied that he would he was tested and accepted for a spot at BUD/S Basic Underwater Demolitions/SEAL, the elite naval special warfare school.
It was almost unheard of for someone his age and with no other qualifications or training to be considered, but it seemed the navy needed war fighters at that moment more than they needed another police officer. When John was notified that he had been accepted, he remembered believing that this couldn't be any harder than anything else the navy had thrown at him to date. He didn't realize then just how wrong he could be.

BUD/S Training Center
Coronado, California

John found out very quickly just what testing and being accepted meant. It started 25 weeks of the harshest most grueling training regiment that he could have ever imagined. During Hell week, the instructors were in his face every minute day and night yelling for him to get down, get up, lift that pole, in the surf, get out, to slow, give me 50 pushups.
John did more pushups than he believed humanly possible and every day a different instructor screaming at him and telling him.
“All you have to do to stop the misery Black is ring that bell and quit.”
John wanted to ring that bell in the worst way. He hated every single minute of it, the lack of sleep, the running, being forced to eat his meals in two minutes while standing up or sitting neck deep in mud. He spent his days wet, tired, cold and covered in sand and never allowed to just sit down to rest. Yeah he wanted to quit all right and just get back to doing the job he loved most being a cop.
Even so, with each new threat, with each new set of pushups John got mad, and he made up his mind that he would never give them the satisfaction of seeing him walk away. They could throw him out but he would never quit on his own and it was that attitude and some inner strength that had given him the guts to tough it out.
After completing BUD/S John went to Jump School, then Military free fall school, tactical Air Operations School and finally SEAL's qualifications school forty-eight weeks in all. Finally, on a bright cool September day back in Coronado, California he had stood with the 12 men remaining out of the original 42 who had started the training, at attention on the parade ground in his dress whites. While the Master Chief pinned on the trident of a navy SEAL and said, “Welcome aboard."
He'd been pretty proud of himself that day, and he had a right to be. John's mom and dad were proud of his too as they had sat in the stands and watched the ceremony. The next four years were a succession of long training days that consisted of brutal runs and hours on the firing range and in the hand-to-hand combat instruction that was designed to hone his skills to a razor edge in order to achieve military objectives and keep him and his teammates alive. The constant training regiment was occasionally broken up by the five covert mission about which he later learned he could never talk. Almost without realizing it 24 year old John Black found himself at the successful end of his enlistment. The medals and decorations on his dress uniform quietly bespoke the strong levelheaded bravery and skill he'd displayed on missions that were recorded only in the classified files of the Pentagon but were also a silent testament to the horrors of war that he had witnessed and participated in.




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Reader Reviews for "Project: Sentinel"

Reviewed by Linda Newton Perry 6/26/2008
Oh what it must be like to be 32 and six feet.
Interesting excerpt. Thanks for your years of work in
police work.


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