Terrorist plots, murder, and a beautiful Mossad agents, another days work for P.I. Winston Simon
Distracted by a murder charge lodged against his daughter Jacki, semi-retired P.I. Winston Simon never expected to again find himself face-to-face with the terrorist Atesh. Now his country’s new ambassador to the United Nations, Atesh is also the mastermind of an ominous threat against the United States—a plot so evil that all previous U.S. terror attacks would pale in comparison. Fearful that he will be recognized and Homeland Security alerted, Atesh devises a plan to put an end to Simon, once and for all.
Simon’s daughter needs him and he isn’t about to be stopped by a little thing like bad guys out to kill him. Even a warning by the District Attorney to stay away from the case goes unheeded as events unfold in Jacki’s case pointing Simon toward an eco-terror group and a protégé of his old nemesis, with a devastating mission of his own.
Can Simon live long enough to clear Jacki and thwart these iniquitous attacks?With failure not an option, Simon is rapidly caught up in a swirling blend of chaos and death from Las Vegas to Seattle to Belize to Alaska and finally back to Las Vegas where a final showdown will ultimately determine who will live and who will die. A forceful blend of terrorists, a beautiful Mossad agent, and Simon make for a very deadly combination.
Excerpt
To say the newcomers were armed and dangerous was an understatement. The first guy, dressed in jeans, a dirty sweat stained t-shirt and a ragged Yankees baseball cap on his head stepped forward. I took him to be the leader. Yeah, he would be, the Bossman. His face was slender and bony with just a wisp of scruffy beard, but sported a large black mustache. His eyes were coal black, mean and hard. His grimy, thin-fingered hand held a large automatic pistol, a 9MM or .45 from the look of it. The weapon looked too large for his small fist. He wasn’t having any trouble handling it, though. As he walked forward, he kept the barrel trained on my chest.
I made a slight jerk as though to reach for my pistol. It was an automatic reflex. Then remembered I’d left all my weapons in my safe back home. I wouldn’t have attempted to get any weapons through foreign customs, even with my deputy sheriff badge and fake papers. It just wasn’t worth the effort.
As they continued toward us, I took more notice of the other two men. The second guy was big as a house and ugly to boot. His pockmarked face and droopy jowls made him look like something out of a horror movie. He was wearing baggy pants, a sleeveless shirt and a dirty rumpled cowboy hat perched on the back of his head. His meaty hands held an AK47 assault rifle pointed in my general direction. He cradled it with the assurance of someone who knew how to use it. I quickly dubbed the second guy, King Kong.
The third man was slim and wiry, also dressed in jeans and T shirt. His long stringy brown hair hadn’t seen soap and water in quite some time. One dirt encrusted arm and hand sat inside a rumpled cloth sling. His other hand, also filthy, held a wicked looking machete. He would be, Slim. The late afternoon sun glanced off the shiny blade as he slowly swung it back and forth.
As the three got closer, the sour smell of unwashed bodies and old food washed over me. Hector grimaced and rubbed his nose with his forefinger. The odor was strong enough to make our eyes water. Up to this point, no words were spoken. I wasn’t carrying much cash so if these guys were bandits, the pickings would be a little slim. Unless, that is, my friend Hector was packing a large roll. Somehow, I doubted that.
Hector must have figured it the same as me. With a look of anger and maybe a little embarrassment, he let fly a string of heated words in a language I couldn’t begin to understand. I didn’t think it was Spanish and I read where many folks here spoke the Mayan language. This was most likely a prime example.
A look of pure hatred flashed across Bossman’s face. Without a word he lifted his weapon and Wham! Wham! Hector’s slight-framed body flew backward and flopped on the ground. The two shots had slammed into his chest.
My mind was whirling and my ears still ringing from the blasts echoing through the ruins. I didn’t have to look at Hector to know he was dead. Two shots at very close range, with a large weapon, would have torn Hector’s chest apart. He was probably dead before he hit the ground. I needed to think of something pretty quick or I would be joining him.
Struggling to look calmer than I actually felt, and trying not to antagonize these guys too much, I said, “Say friend, mind telling me what that was all about? “I¬--” “Shut up gringo, unless you want to join your friend.”
I raised my hands to shoulder height, palms out. I wanted them to think I was surrendering, you know, just a scared tourist.
“Sure pal, anything you say. Just take it easy, okay”
Bossman said something to King Kong in the same language as before and then turned to me.
“Where is the girl? She was to be here. Where did she and the others go?”
Sometimes my mouth tends to get the better of me and this wasn’t an exception, as in my best imitation British accent I quipped, “Sorry, old boy, no clue.”
My head snapped sideways as a phone started to ring somewhere. It took me a couple of seconds to realize it wasn’t a phone after all; it was my ears. The leader had backhanded me, hard.
“So Yankee, you got a smart mouth, huh. I close it for you, hey?”
I shook my head to clear the buzzing and to get the fuzziness out of my brain. The leader cocked the hammer on the .45. If I was going to get out of this I needed to make a move now. My only chance was to get him to hit me again. Well, not really hit me, but to try to hit me. I would take it from there.
Reverting to my most sarcastic tone, I replied.
“You’re wasting your time pal, no woman in her right mind would take a second look at you. You are way too ugly! As a matter of fact, if ugly was a brick, you’d be that ruined temple over there.”
I stopped to see if he would take the bait. The boy hadn’t moved, maybe he was a little dense or something. When he spoke, the words caught me completely by surprise.
“So, Mister Big-Shot- Simon, not so big now, huh,” he said with an evil smile spread across his ugly face.
He spoke with a heavy accent, the words sounded like Meester, and Beeg.
How did he know my name? What was going on here? A jolt ran through my body as I realized this was no bandit stickup. They were here for the girl and for me! I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to leave here alive. My plan wasn’t working like I wanted. I would need to put out a little more goading if I wanted them to make a mistake. Back to my previous sarcastic tone and pretending I didn’t hear him, I said.
“Yep, no ladies for you, dude, way too ugly! But, you might make it with ‘Kong’ over there; he looks more like your type.”
I turned my head in the direction of the biggest goon, giving the leader an opportunity. He didn’t disappointment me this time. With a snarl of hatred, he made his move.
As he reached to backhand me a second time, I made my own move. Bossman’s biggest mistake was thinking he had me where he wanted me. With rattlesnake quickness, I reached out both hands toward him. My right hand grabbed for his weapon and promptly disarmed him. My left hand gripped him by the shirtfront, pulling him toward me as I slammed my knee into his groin. He sagged against me, his stinking, rotten teeth breath wafted over me as serious pain showed on his truly ugly face.
My plan was to use him for a shield while I employed his weapon to take out the other goons. The plan worked, just not exactly as I imagined it would. To the right, Kong brought up his weapon and started firing as I swung Bossman around, placing his now limp body between the stuttering assault weapon and me. Four or five heavy slugs struck the main thug, stitching him from the left side buttocks to his right shoulder.
Bringing up the now dead man’s .45, I fired three times. Two shots hit Kong in the mid-chest area and one tore through his throat. Normally, three hits from a .45 would put any man down. Not so for Kong. He stood for a couple of seconds with a shocked look on his face, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. Then his face slackened and his body went limp. In silence, his now rag-doll form toppled to the dusty ground, convulsed once, then went still.
I hadn’t forgotten about Slim, the machete man. I’d figured him to be the least of the threats. That little thought almost got me killed since he was much quicker than expected. As it so happened, my peripheral vision saved my life.
My initial idea was to toss the dead leader away, turn and take out the third guy. Darkness was approaching but a flicker of light glancing off the large machete caused a quick plan change. Instead of shoving the leader away, I swung him around again, placing him between the gleaming blade and me. There was a sickening thud as metal met flesh and bone. The razor sharp cutting edge cleanly decapitated the leader. More blood gushed outward as I again fired my weapon three times. The force of the machete swing turned blade man slightly away from me. One shot hit him in the right shoulder, spinning him further around and two went into his back, passing completely through, taking blood, bone fragments and tissue with them. He was dead before he fell. With the acrid taste of bile rising in my throat, I flung the headless blood-oozing body away from me.
My legs had suddenly turned to jelly. I walked over to a nearby rock and plopped down. I sat there for about five minutes until my breathing somewhat returned to normal. An encounter with sudden death always carried a price. Even though I was still alive, four others were not. No matter how much I justified my actions in my mind, it didn’t always help. Yes, it was kill or be killed; they would surely have killed me along with Hector. Sometimes, even that didn’t ease the pangs of guilt. I must admit however, I was thrilled to find out my reflexes weren’t those of an over-the-hill, wanna-be ninja…at least not yet.
I glanced toward the four bodies leaking fluids into the parched earth. Now what? It took another minute or so to come up with a plan of action. It was a simple plan.
Professional Reviews
heart-pounding moments of intrigue and suspense
Take a smart-a**, intelligent, risk-taking, not quite over-the-hill ex-detective; throw in a Jericho 941 pistol, a couple of AK-47’s, a few bad guys, a beautiful spy and a best friend and you have the makings of just another day in the life of Winston Simon, Private Investigator.
Simon’s life is anything but dull. In P.J. Lawton’s latest tale of espionage and suspense, Simon finds himself in the middle of eco-terrorists who not only want nothing more than to see him dead, but want his daughter—and many others—out of the way as well. Details from the past mix with people and situations in the present to make for a very deadly situation where no one is safe.
Simon finds out the woman he loves is more than he thought and it all goes downhill from there. Almost from the word ‘go’, he is thrown into the midst of the bad guys’ plans to once again try and destroy the one they deem the great Satan; better known as America. The action is never-ending and the surprises just keep on coming for Simon and the reader.
Armed with his new best friend, an Israeli Jericho 941 pistol and along with a few trusted helpers, Simon is determined to shut down the self-affirmed Earth Liberation Movement before they can cause a catastrophic eco-terror attack aimed directly at the United States.
Lawton’s book is filled with heart-pounding moments of intrigue and suspense that keep you on the edge of your seat, panting for more. Bravo PJ, you’ve done it again!
5 Stars
Posted by Terri Ann Armstrong, Author of “My Soul Has Spoken”, “Where do I Begin?” and “Husbandry 101 on 28th Apr 2011
Excellent mystery to please the most discriminating mystery fan
Winston Simon was a Private Detective until his office was blown up by a major drug cartel. He was ready to get back into the swing of things. Basking in the sun on the beach with his fiancé was fun, but he was bored. He had feeling of dread. Call it a sixth sense but he could feel something bad was about to take place. His friend Thomas James called asking for help. TJ’s daughter had been arrested for murder. It was time to get back to work. Simon’s investigating uncovers more than he bargained for.
This is a fast paced story that will keep the reader turning pages to find out what is going to happen next. Someone wants Simon dead. From drug dealers to street racers, spies and terrorist, Simon is caught up in chaos. The reader follows Simon from Las Vegas to California onward to Alaska and back with some heart pounding moments. The plot kept me on the edge of my seat. The author includes twists and turns to keep the reader eagerly turning pages. This is an excellent mystery that will please the most discriminating mystery fan.
5 Stars
Admiral Robert Sheppard and his starship, the Phoenix, are back for their latest interplanetary adventure. Mysteries, new alien civilizations, and danger await the intrepid Star Knight and his loyal allies.
