A disgruntled Mexican American CIA agent becomes irate at what he perceives as xenophobia and ethnic bias by his fellow Americans. He turns into a renegade (wet rogue agent - WRA) and starts working from his personal agenda.
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This books follows the ill-fated career of Special Agent Jesus Garcia, a Mexican immigrant who enters the U. S. illegally and becomes part of the intelligence community. He distinguishes himself on several "black missions" that involve international intrigue and political assassinations.
The plot thickens when Garcia is assigned as a bodyguard for a California governor, a man who personifies everything Garcia hates. He decides to assassinate the governor to avenge the deaths of two relatives and send the nation a message.
Garcia's appeal to two beautiful women creates an interesting subplot. A foxy Latina CIA operative decides to kill him to end his steamy relationship with a beautiful Anglo security officer.
Lying prone on rocky terrain, squinting through the high power scope of an AK-47, Private Garcia squeezed the trigger and watched the paper target vibrate in the mild breeze 600 yards away. The target bounced as every round struck the bull’s eye. He placed all five shots within a three-inch radius. But that wasn’t good enough for the crusty gunnery sergeant who viewed the private’s efforts through a pair of binoculars.***
She brought her glistening lips up to his. He swept her into his arms and pressed his mouth firmly against hers. The oral animation elicited an enthusiastic, unbridled response. Her shapely body became putty in his hands, a delicate anatomy that had gone too long without prurient requitement.***
Drug lord Arturo Estaban proceeded up the ladder to the high board, tested the wind direction and began taking deep breaths. He inhaled only twice before Garcia’s lethal hollow point round struck him in the forehead and exited in the rear, taking the back of his head with it. The violent force slammed his body off the high board. It collided with the sky-blue water, rendering it with a yellowish hue when the crimson blood began polluting that section of the swimming pool.***
Cullen paused from massaging his fleshy, near-nude companion and tasted a tall drink. His sexy, young mistress sat on the deck and rested her head on the governor’s knees. Agent Garcia’s skilled forefinger moved towards the trigger, ready to squeeze off the round and send Tige Cullen to Hades.***
Satisfied that Agent MX-22 was unaware of his break from the CIA, Garcia saw no reason to enlighten him. He chose obfuscation over clarity, steering the conversation in another direction. “I must have misunderstood my orders. What are you doing in Mexicali?”