An Explosive Special Forces Thriller Now teaching at an International school in Ukraine, former SAS trooper Aidan Snow has laid the nightmares of his past to rest. But when after ten years Snow meets again the man who put a gun to his head and ended his military career his past becomes very real. Told by the British Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) that his would be tormenter is dead Snow tries to forget... 'Attacked' by an unknown adversary, 'Framed' for two high profile assassinations and 'Hunted' by the Ukrainian Security Service, Snow is torn from the life he has worked so hard to build and must once again rely on his SAS training in an attempt to clear his name. Discovering a mercenary brigade made up of former Soviet Spetsnaz soldiers Snow trusts only himself to stop them and save those he cares about. Snow is left one step ahead of the authorities with no one to watch his back. In a Firefight, Pray for SNOW....
Excerpt
Hetman - The title of the highest military commander, after the monarch, in 15th to 18th century Poland, Ukraine and The Grand Duchy of Lithuania.
PROLOGUE September the 20th 1996. SchreinerBank, Poznan, Poland
He set his watch, pulled down the black balaclava and stepped out of the van. As one the men stormed the bank. “Na Podloge Natychmiast!” On the floor now – the Polish was precise, clipped and accented. With a swift bark from a Kalashnikov the sole SchreinerBank guard was neutralised.
Shocked customers screamed and threw themselves down as two men in black coveralls pointed their automatic weapons; the dead guard was evidence that they were not afraid to use them. Two other assaulters wearing empty back packs vaulted over the counter and headed towards the safe. A fifth and sixth sat across the street in two high powered BMW saloons. Parked facing down cobbled side streets; the cars were poised for a speedy exfiltration. At either end of the main street identical Opel vans stood, packed with Russian made plastic explosives. No more words were exchanged as each member of the assault team took up their prearranged positions. Bull had watched and waited for months for this shipment to arrive, had persuaded an ‘eager’ government employee to give him the building’s schematics and was now ready to collect his four million Deutsche Marks. A stunned silence took hold of the banking hall broken only by the whimpering of a teenage youth. Bull looked down at the boy with disgust. Seven years ago and such a boy would have been his to command in Afghanistan.
Police Training Area, Poznan, Poland
Aidan Snow sat on the wooden bench and stirred his tea. If it wasn’t for the sound of gunfire and smell of cordite then the training camp would have been idyllic. As part of a four man SAS training team Snow had been in Poland for over two months advising the Polish Police Pododdziay Antyterrorystyczne (counter terrorist unit). Now that the cold war was well and truly over his unit, the 22nd Special Air Service Regiment (SAS) was in demand by the governments of newly independent states in an attempt to help stem the tide of international organised crime and terrorism. He closed his eyes; the last rays of the summer sun had seemed reluctant to leave Poznan.
At twenty four Aidan Snow had been deployed to numerous hostile locations, some overt such as Northern Ireland others strictly covert, some domestic some international. His time with ‘the Regiment’ had been eventful alright, not the life his parents would have wished for the son of a teacher and a diplomat. He looked on as the rest of his four man team showed the Polish trainees the correct way to track and hit a moving target. A target had been attached to a pulley which was strung between several trees. Some bright spark had pasted a photograph of Andreas Möller to it in a direct reference to the England soccer team’s defeat at Euro 96. Möller, famously that summer, scoring the sixth round penalty that stopped England getting to the final. The trainees thought this was very funny. The SAS did not.
The team had made some real progress, for a Police SWAT unit they were good, ready in fact should a real incident arise. Training was still needed however to turn this SWAT unit into a truly elite CT team. Their next exercise, which Snow would lead, would utilise ‘The Killing House’ and hone Close Quarter Battle (CQB) techniques. The Regiment’s killing house in the UK was a two story building. It was designed the same as an average two up two down, was furnished but had special rubber coated walls to absorb bullets, extractor fans to clear out cordite and video cameras in corners to record and play back the action in the rooms. Each room had at least one metal target and live rounds were used. The SAS team had built a mini and less elaborate version at the camp to train the Polish operatives in how to enter a room, assess the situation and neutralise any threats. Inspector Zatwarnitski, head of the Polish CT unit had said that a permanent killing house would be built to UK standards! It hadn’t happened yet.
Snow sipped his tea, it wasn’t a bad gig. The Poles were quick learners as most of them, unlike their British Police counterparts, had already served time in the Polish army before joining up. This gave them an understanding, if somewhat rudimentary of military procedure and firearms handling. Several of the men spoke passable English, which was good as none of the SAS did! In cases of further misunderstanding Snow resorted to his Russian, which most of the Poles spoke as their first ‘foreign’ language.
“My men impress you Snow?”
“They are very promising Inspector.”
“Good.” Zatwarnitski sat. “History is a funny thing. A few years ago you being here would have been unthinkable, the west was the enemy. Our hope, our future, our security lay with our Soviet protectors. And then? Like dominos it all fell. To be candid, we never really wanted to be on the Soviet side. That is why we need you here Snow, we are tired with the old methods and we of course want to learn from the best.”
Snow smiled politely, he had been present when Zatwarnitski had made the same speech on his visit to Hereford courtesy of HM Government. The Pole nevertheless meant every word, even though he fancied himself as a bit of a public speaker.
“Our biggest fear now is our old protector – mother Russia. She is wounded and a wounded bear is the most dangerous. We really do appreciate your team Snow.” The older man reached out to shake the SAS trooper by the hand.
“Thank you inspector, but we are just doing our jobs. It is your men that need to be thanked for working so hard.”
“Modesty is something that I hope you also teach.” Zatwarnitski raised his mug in mock salute.
A shout, from the communications room, both men stood. Moments before the radio had fallen from the operator’s hand. The call was from central despatch. Armed men had entered SchreinerBank on Wroclawska Street. They were the nearest specialist unit, could they assist?
Zatwarnitski looked Snow in the eye. “Are my men ready?”
“Yes.”
Minutes later, on Zatwarnitski’s orders, the Poles and their SAS training team were in a convoy being led by a very nervous recruit. After eight weeks on the job this recruit’s first real ‘action’ was as the lead driver on what the SAS referred to as an ‘immediate’. The young officer concentrated on threading his way through the traffic in his new police Omega. Never mind the fact that his siren was blazing the drivers of Poznan were none too happy to yield. In the passenger seat sat Zatwarnitski with Snow, who trusted only his own driving, sitting behind.
Wroclawska Street, Poznan
Bull checked his watch. The local militia would be there in five more minutes. A dull thud came from the back room – his men had blown open the safe. Another sound registered in the distance, SIRENS? They were early! The men from the safe detail lumbered into view weighted down their burgen packs now full. Giving the signal he and his 2IC, Oleg, tossed smoke grenades into the centre of the room and out onto the street. It was now time to leave. He felt reassuringly for the remote detonator. The two assaulters took up sentry positions on either side to cover the bagmen as they sprinted across the road, partly concealed by the billowing white smoke... The laden burgen were hauled into the waiting cars.
The recruit slued around the tight bend and into Wroclawska Street and saw smoke pouring from the bank and men, men in black with guns…. forgetting his training the young Pole panicked and gunned the accelerator sirens still blazing.
Bull looked up. “Blat!” This was not meant to happen, they were not meant to be here so soon. He realised that these were not normal Police vehicles…the lead car had not yet reached the van, but it would any second. Dropping to one knee he pressed the button on the remote detonator as his men opened fire. The second car came into view. The explosion tore through the Opel van hurling debris across both lanes of the road. The full force of the blast caught the second Omega, tossing it up and sideways like a child’s play thing. It smashed into the façade of the post office. The lead car punched through the smoke, the recruit screamed as he lost control of his car. The force of the blast sent his charge headlong into the entrance of the bank. He and Zatwarnitski were killed instantly. At the end of the block the other van erupted, levelling a newspaper kiosk and gutting a bakery. The first BMW roared off and away. As the remainder of his men delivered suppressing fire Bull noticed movement in the first Omega. He moved to the devastated vehicle. The front of the car had been turned into a mass of twisted steel and broken glass...but…a passenger in the back was alive!
The man was dressed in his own black coveralls. He looked down at the young ashen face with dark brown eyes. ‘Who are you?’ he thought.
The mouth moved and through the pain a raspy voice whispered “Piss Off!”
Had he spoken in English? Who were these police who had arrived so quickly? The man tried to move but was pinned to the seat; blood seeped from his mouth and ears. This hero would die soon regardless. Bull pulled up his balaclava and smiled, letting the boy look at the last face that he would see on this earth. Shots zipped past his head. More black clad figures were running through the smouldering debris returning fire. “Blat!” He cursed again and ran back to his car. Tyres screeching, they disappeared into the suburbs. Tauras ‘Bull’ Pashinski fell back against the leather seat and closed his eyes. He was now a rich man.
Professional Reviews
2010 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA) Expert Review
2010 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA) Expert Reviewer:
The strongest aspect of this work is the writer's knowledge of Ukraine and Special Forces operations. The detail about Kyiv is well done, and creates an appealing background for the primary character, Aidan Snow.
Other strong aspects of Hetman are that the story has good pacing, moves along well and holds the reader's attention. The writing is clear, well defined and to the point, without burdening the reader with distractions from the plot.
Hetman is a well written novel that will appeal to those who love spy adventures. I liked the character of Bull, he felt real on the page, and you don't get better than that. The secondary characters are interesting and the author does a good job of character development, as well as creating a well paced novel.
If you like McNab & Ryan read this
Got a Kindle from the wife for Christmas with some books on so been reading a lot. As a former member of the armed forces I like to read McNab/Ryan/Falkoner. Just finished this and was impressed. Not heard of Alex Shaw before but will now on look out for his books. Hetman has some very interesting characters and locations that seem more real than the usual stuff. The action starts on page one and then builds with a great plot and firfefights. Hetman is a bit more detailed than a McNab but not as wordy as a Clancy. Highly recommended if you like SAS books.
Very entertaining thriller
I'll start of by saying that this was a good fun read. A modern SAS thriller set largely in Ukraine but extending back to England, it rattles along at a fast pace that kept me turning the pages. The author has clearly researched his subject and I would imagine knows the countries he writes about, there's a lot of back story rooted in 20th century history and the former Soviet Union. First and foremost, this is an action novel and the action scenes are well written - there can be a lot going on but it is always told with clarity, so you don't feel you've lost track of who's where and doing what.
I'm happy to say that the action is well supported by the plot and a good cast of fleshed out characters - down the smaller roles (some of who make appearances in the next book). The hero of the piece is a former SAS soldier who recognises a face from his past which draws him - and those close to him - into a plot involving the sniper referred to in the title. The two principle villains are well drawn, each with their own back story but I will say no more about them in case of spoilers. Some of my favourite characters were from the Ukrainian authorities - I quickly wished there had been more of them and happily, some come back for the next story.
This has been a solid start to a new series, laying down the foundation for future stories. It has a good resolution but leaves just enough open to be told in later books. Recommended!
New Sheriff! Now a Target of Corruption!
Newly elected Sheriff Todd Mercer faces a county run by one family, the Fords. They’ve controlled everything in the city and county for many years and now will fight Todd and his friends, who want to
Kim Jong Eun è morto. L'esercito nordcoreano è ora al comando. Il loro nuovo dittatore militare, il maresciallo Ko, crede che con un'invasione totale possano raggiungere Seul, a sole 35 miglia di distanza.
In the second book of the BetterWorld trilogy, Kiyoko and her friends continue to fight MediaCorp's schemes to control the world. But a team of ruthless mercenaries is after them, and is closing in fast.
