Category: Action/Thriller Publisher: Mark O'Neal Books
ISBN-10: 1482547953
Type: Fiction
Pages: 120
Copyright: February 15, 2012
ISBN-13: 9781482547955
This is the fourth installment of the Maurice Ousley series.
Maurice Ousley and his beautiful wife Gabrielle are living well—Maurice had just retired from the NBA due to injury with his fortune intact; and Gabrielle is a successful restaurateur in St. Louis, Missouri. They had just gotten back home from the Virgin Islands, and they are soon on their way to Chicago for their friend Stephanie’s wedding. Trouble would soon find them when a terrorist tries to hijack the plane. Will they survive, or will the terrorist successfully fly the plane into the Willis Tower?
Darius Clinton is still at large, and he’s wanted for murder and attempted murder. He somehow managed to turn his life around by settling down in the small town of Sikeston, Missouri. All was well until he got a visit from a mysterious outsider at the sports bar where he worked as a bartender. Has his time of running from the Feds come to an end?
Junior is on the cusp of being a rap superstar, and he hits it off with a sexy Dominican girl who’s on the same record label. His new single is about to drop, and life couldn’t be sweeter for him. However, his world would come crashing down on him when he gets into a fight and beats a guy half to death. Will he spend the rest of his life in jail?
And lastly, Stephanie is about to marry to guy of her dreams, and she seems to be on top of the world. Everything will change when Maurice receives a strange text from Stephanie meant for someone else. Will the wedding still go as planned, or will Stephanie’s life be altered forever?
Keep Your Enemies Closer is a well-crafted piece with intricate plots and subplots sure to keep readers on the edge. Installment four of the Maurice Ousley series is a must-read for anyone who loves drama and suspense.
Excerpt
Gabrielle and I were sitting in first class on our flight to Chicago for Stephanie’s wedding that was taking place on Saturday. Gabrielle was one of her bridesmaids, and the two them had gotten really close over the last couple of years. They had decided to bury the hatchet after I got shot on that faithful day at a gas station near Brentwood, CA three years prior; and we regularly saw Stephanie and her fiancé at least once every month or so for the last year. She was marrying a partner at a financial services firm, and she was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.
I had to admit to myself that seeing Stephanie marrying someone else was a little weird for me even though our relationship had been over for sometime, and the fact that she was now Gabrielle’s new best friend was even weirder. I wasn’t jealous of Stephanie’s new relationship or anything remotely close to that, but I still cared enough about her to wonder if she was making the right decision for herself. Her fiancé Brendan Moss seemed like a legit guy on the surface, but something didn’t feel right to me about him. He was too perfect in my opinion—he always seemed to say the right thing to her as though it was scripted, they never had an argument in the two and a half years they dated, and he bought her flowers at least once a week. I thought it was a cool thing for Brendan to buy Stephanie flowers every week—but a thoughtful gesture like that could lose value if it’s done too often and might be taken for granted after a while in my opinion.
I befriended Brendan because I really wanted to know what his true intentions were, and whenever Gabby and Stephanie were out shopping or getting their hair and nails done, we were usually on the golf course or at a sports bar throwing back beers. I had a lot more time on my hands once I retired after the 2011-12 NBA season. Malik was traded to Los Angeles the same year I had to work my way back from a long, strenuous rehabilitation that lasted almost half of the season. My life was never the same after being in a coma and nearly dying, and my body had begun to break down with nagging injury after nagging injury robbing me of my explosiveness on the hardwood. I ultimately decided to go out on my own terms rather than be pushed out of the league.
I wanted to be wrong about him because he made Stephanie so happy, but I also felt that things were too good to be true at that point. A person can only fake it for so long before the truth comes out.
“Would you two like something to drink?” the flight attendant asked.
“Sure, I’d like a Miller Draft,” I answered.
“What about you, sweetie?” the flight attendant asked Gabrielle.
“I’ll just have a bottled water, please,” she answered.
“Coming right up,” the flight attendant said.
“Getting an early start, huh, baby?” Gabrielle asked.
“I guess you can say that,” I answered. “I’m not fully on board with this, Gabby.”
“We talked about this…give Brendan a chance.”
“I am giving him a chance, but I still don’t trust this dude, though. I know his type…mister smooth… mister perfect. He’s definitely hiding something, but I haven’t been able figure it out yet. I just don’t want to see Steph get hurt.”
“I don’t want her to get hurt, either. You really need to lighten up, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you still wanted her for yourself.”
“Come on, Gabby, you know I only have eyes for you. I can’t believe you’re saying this after what we did last night, and if you don’t believe me, I’ll give you an encore performance tonight.”
“I’m just messing with you, damn…you have no sense of humor. I know you just want what’s best for her, but you have to let it go, boo.”
“Okay, I’ll let it go…for now.”
“Good, I want us to enjoy ourselves this weekend. Put your feelings aside for one day, and I’ll give you an encore performance you’ll never forget.”
“Be careful, babe, that’s how we got Alexa.”
“You once said you could handle ten kids if we had them, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. The question is, can you handle it?”
“Yes, I can handle ten kids and manage my restaurant with no problem.”
“That’s my superwoman….”
“And don’t you forget it.”
The flight attendant brought us our drinks moments later, and I took a sip of my beer and said, “Malik said they will be in Chicago tonight.”
“Are they bringing the baby?” she asked.
“Nah, they’re leaving her with the nanny,” I answered. “Erin doesn’t want Janelle around a lot of people because she’s worried about germs.”
“That’s understandable…I felt the same way about all our kids.”
“I think you’re both overreacting.”
“I disagree…you can never be too careful when it comes to germs. Knowing what I learned in my sanitation class, I’m now afraid to eat in restaurants.”
“You’re afraid to eat in restaurants? How is that possible, babe?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t trust anybody’s restaurant but my own. I’m extra cautious when it comes to health code violations.”
“I get what you’re saying, and no, it doesn’t sound crazy. I saw this movie a couple of months ago, and this guy working in a fast food restaurant spit in a man’s burger after the man argued about the first burger being too cold. You just never know what people are doing to your food.”
“Exactly, and that’s why I’m leery about eating just anywhere.”
Janelle was born three months after Alexa, and Janelle was Malik and Erin’s first child. Alexa was our third child together—Michael was our first, and Maurice Jr. is the middle child. Jason is our oldest at nine years old, and Gabrielle had him from a previous relationship. All of the children were already in Chicago at their aunt and uncle’s house for a few weeks before school was going to start. Gabrielle and I had just gotten back from a vacation in the Virgin Islands so that we could attend Stephanie’s wedding.
My sister Nicole was supposed to be one of the bridesmaids, but she couldn’t make it because she was the lead attorney in a very important murder trial. I guess Stephanie was still considered a member of the family because she still remained close to everybody.
I, on the other hand, was enjoying retirement and had no plans in the immediate future besides raising my kids while Gabrielle toiled long hours at her restaurant in downtown St. Louis. My barbershop and carwash had run on autopilot since my rookie year, so there wasn’t much for me to do besides monitor the books each month. I was offered a gig as an analyst for the St. Louis Wolves, but I turned it down because I needed a mental break from basketball. I wanted to take my life in a new direction—I decided I wasn’t going to do anything major until Alexa started preschool. Besides, it was Gabrielle’s turn to shine.
I accidentally dropped my beer before I could take another gulp because the commotion in coach startled me. A female flight attendant had screamed hysterically after a tall man with broad shoulders punched a male flight attendant in the face and knocked him to the ground before making his way to the cockpit. I motioned to stop him, but Gabrielle grabbed my arm and shook her head. The man’s nationality was ambiguous—he could’ve been Middle Eastern, Eastern European or from the Mediterranean for all I knew. Suddenly, the male flight attendant entered the first class part of the plane with a bloody nose attempting to grab the man by the shoulder before getting socked in the jaw. He hit the floor unconscious while everyone else on the plane froze in horror.
I couldn’t just sit by idly and do nothing. I evaded death numerous times and wasn’t going to let some terrorist determine my fate without a fight. I was certain that his mission was to fly this particular plane into a building like the Willis Tower.
I jumped out of my seat and grabbed him before he could enter the cockpit. We wrestled in the narrow space of the aisle—our heads, feet and elbows hitting the seats on both sides of us. Damn, he was strong, I thought. The pilot never peeked out to see what was going on though I’m certain he was terrified as to what was going to happen next.
I managed to gain an advantage by getting on top of him before pummeling his face until my knuckles were bleeding. I made sure he was out cold before I got off of him. His mouth and nose were oozing blood on the floor, and my right hand looked like it went through a meat grinder. I then tried to revive the flight attendant lying on the floor next to the cockpit. I shouted to get the pilot’s attention.
“I need some help out here!” I shouted before peeking inside of the cockpit. “Don’t shoot…I need a first-aid kit for one of the flight attendants and something to bind this passenger!”
“Here, take this,” the pilot said, handing me a first-aid kit and handcuffs. “What happened out there?”
“I think this guy was going to take over the plane by force and kill all of us. One of your flight attendants is hurt really bad, and he hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“Don’t worry, we’re about to land very soon.”
I turned around and shouted, “Are there any doctors on the plane?!”
“I’m a doctor,” a middle-aged man replied.
“I can’t tell if he is breathing,” I said before placing the handcuffs on the passenger. “Do you want me to give him CPR?”
“Hold fast, I’m coming,” the doctor said.
He checked the guy’s pulse and checked his airway to see if he was breathing. I finally took a moment to look at the faces of the passengers behind me and at Gabrielle. I saw people who still looked terrified and confused, I also saw looks of admiration, and Gabrielle gave me a smile and a nod of approval.
The flight attendant regained consciousness minutes after the doctor worked on him, and the doctor instructed him to remain on the floor until the plane landed and the paramedics came. The passenger’s eyes started fluttering, and I kept an eye on him just in case he wanted to try something else. Fortunately, he continued to lie on the floor in pain and didn’t move.
I tried to flex my right hand but could barely move it. I knew then it was a possibility that it might have been broken.
“Let me see your hand, baby,” Gabrielle said.
“I hope I didn’t break it,” I said. “I can’t move any of my fingers.”
“Can you look at my husband’s hand, sir?” she said to the doctor.
“Sure, let me take a look at it,” he answered. “From the looks of it, we won’t be able to know anything for sure until you get an X-ray. Here, wrap your hand with this ice bag.”
“Thanks, doc,” I said.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “You’re Maurice Ousley, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” I answered. “I’d give you an autograph, but….”
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “We all owe our lives to you.”
“We sure do,” Gabrielle interjected. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
“I just reacted, that’s all,” I said. “I just didn’t want to die like this…you know…being flown into a building by some lunatic.”
“I think we should drive back home after the wedding,” Gabrielle said.
“I totally agree with you,” I added. “I definitely lost my taste for flying for a while.”
Book 3 continues the Commander and the Chief's adventures in political intrigue, superstition, old feuds, and the search of Nikola Tesla's missing papers in this Close Encounter of the Weird Kind.
Farhad Shirazi, a three star general of the ex-Shah's army who has been hiding in Iran for nine years,needs to escape From Ayatollah Khomeini's Iran or face capture and execution by the revolutionary guards...
