Saturday, January 07, 2006
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
E-BOMB Summary
SUMMARY
What do we consider the glue that holds the fabric of our society together? That keeps the whole juggernaut from careening out of control into hopeless anarchy and the total breakdown of society.
This takes place four months after a tsunami wipes out the East Coast of the United States (Touched By Fire - Book 1).
The Chinese hire Syrian operatives to detonate an electromagnetic pulse bomb over Chicago, in a bid to destroy what's left of the US economy. The New York Stock Exchange has moved to the Chicago Mercantile until New York City is rebuilt.
Major Montana Sinclair and her boyfriend, Jim Morton, a freelance agent for the CIA attend a Homeland security meeting announcing the 'persons of interest' for the day. Shortly thereafter, they both board a plane for Chicago, to inspect a building that Jim's public foundation has just purchased as a new corporate headquarters.
They change planes in Pittsburg, PA, where Montana spots the suspects. They disembarking the plane in Chicago and follow the suspects to Lake Michigan where the operatives set off the e-bomb, effectively throwing the city back into the dark ages. Cars with onboard computers, TV, radio, watches, cell phones, power or communication lines and anything electronic is permanently toasted.
Montana and Jim eavesdrop on the suspects, causing Jim to be captured. With an unconscious Jim in tow, the suspects speed away in an old car that doesn't have electronics.
The rest of the book is Montana's two-day journey, fighting her way through the streets of Chicago amidst a total breakdown of social order, to save the man that she loves.
Excerpt
September 12
Montana Sinclair stood with her foot on the park bench, tying the lace of her right running shoe. Her muscular thighs and calves were evident through the tight spandex running suit. She worked hard to get back in shape after the accident. At the age of thirty-one, she needed to exert a lot more energy than when she was twenty-one, but the effort paid off. She never felt better.
She pulled a scrungy from her left wrist and tied her long chestnut brown hair into a tight ponytail. Emerald green eyes sparkled with added moisture. She had pulled the band in her hair too tight, and it put tension into the sore spot on her head.
A half-ton steel girder had put an ever so slight crease in her skull. The doctor said that it would eventually fade, but in the meantime, it remained as a constant reminder of the tsunami that devastated the East Coast four months ago.
Montana looked down at her watch. Okay, I've got twenty minutes of training left. I'll have an hour and a half to get showered and changed for the meeting with General McKay.
She did stretching exercises several times and took a few deep breaths. The action was like sucking on a marshmallow. The air felt humid. The temperature had stayed in the high 90's all day. Even with the bright orange evening sun hanging low in the western sky, it still hovered near 85 degrees. This was average weather for September. Montana had grown accustomed to training in the heat. That was one of the perks of being stationed in Florida.
She took stock of both sides of the street. The list in-cluded several parked cars, two trash receptacles, a mailbox and a newspaper machine. She made a decision to cross to the other side. There were fewer objects for someone to hide behind. The waning daylight cast long shadows across the building facades and out into the street.
Montana started to run; controlled breathing; an even cush-ioned stride in the new shoes; perfect form. It felt good to run. She had only gone about a hundred and fifty feet when a darkly clothed figure emerged from the shadows of a doorway, two buildings ahead of her. She couldn't see his face, but she could see the short club in his left hand.
Her heart beat faster. She stopped abruptly and turned back in the other direction. Another figure jumped out in front of her, from the doorway she had just passed. I didn't see him. I have to learn better awareness. Montana put her back to the street, so that one assailant stood to her right and the other one approached from the left. If you let them both get near you at the same time, you're done, ol' girl!
"Click." The man to her right flipped open a switchblade and lunged at her with his right hand brandishing the weapon. He raised the knife in the air. Montana balled up her fists and assumed a fighting stance. The man lunged again. Montana deftly raised her right leg and planted her foot squarely in his stomach.
"Umph!" The sharp kick expelled the air in his lungs and he momentarily collapsed to the pavement.
Montana charged in the other man's direction. It put dis-tance between her and the fallen one. She concentrated on con-trolling her breathing, so that she didn't weaken herself with too much oxygen.
The man raised the club in his left hand as she approached. He swung at her. Montana took a stance and blocked the downward swing of his left wrist with an upward thrust of her right fore-arm. The fingers of her right hand were tightly together with the hand open in a karate chop position. As she brought her arm up to block the club, she punched him in the nose with her left fist.
"Ow-w, my nose, why you..." The man let go of the club. It clattered to the ground as he grabbed his nose with both hands.
Montana sprinted off down the street, crossing to the other side. Be observant. Pay attention to everything around you! Her breathing leveled off. She rubbed the knuckles of her left hand as she ran. I must have hit his teeth. She skinned two of her knuckles.
White car at 3 o'clock. There's someone in the driver's seat. She wasn't taking any chances this time. She ran up to the car before the occupant could react and swung the door open. With her back to the car, she reached over herself with her left arm and pulled the occupant out by his left arm. As his body ex-ited the car, Montana jammed her right hand into the space between his left arm socket and shoulder blade and drove his face into the narrow grassy spot at the edge of the sidewalk.
"All right, I'm down!" With his plea muffled by the grass, the man went limp in surrender.
"Okay, major," boomed the loudspeaker mounted high on the side of a nearby building. "Your session is done and by the looks of it so are my men."
Montana looked up at the tiny camera mounted on the light pole and laughed out loud. "I may have broken Ernie's nose. He zigged when he should have zagged." She turned and looked down the street behind her.
Ernie was holding his nose, but he raised his hand in a wave. Montana waved back and jogged off in the direction of the entrance to the training zone.
What do we consider the glue that holds the fabric of our society together? That keeps the whole juggernaut from careening out of control into hopeless anarchy and the total breakdown of society.
This takes place four months after a tsunami wipes out the East Coast of the United States (Touched By Fire - Book 1).
The Chinese hire Syrian operatives to detonate an electromagnetic pulse bomb over Chicago, in a bid to destroy what's left of the US economy. The New York Stock Exchange has moved to the Chicago Mercantile until New York City is rebuilt.
Major Montana Sinclair and her boyfriend, Jim Morton, a freelance agent for the CIA attend a Homeland security meeting announcing the 'persons of interest' for the day. Shortly thereafter, they both board a plane for Chicago, to inspect a building that Jim's public foundation has just purchased as a new corporate headquarters.
They change planes in Pittsburg, PA, where Montana spots the suspects. They disembarking the plane in Chicago and follow the suspects to Lake Michigan where the operatives set off the e-bomb, effectively throwing the city back into the dark ages. Cars with onboard computers, TV, radio, watches, cell phones, power or communication lines and anything electronic is permanently toasted.
Montana and Jim eavesdrop on the suspects, causing Jim to be captured. With an unconscious Jim in tow, the suspects speed away in an old car that doesn't have electronics.
The rest of the book is Montana's two-day journey, fighting her way through the streets of Chicago amidst a total breakdown of social order, to save the man that she loves.
Excerpt
September 12
Montana Sinclair stood with her foot on the park bench, tying the lace of her right running shoe. Her muscular thighs and calves were evident through the tight spandex running suit. She worked hard to get back in shape after the accident. At the age of thirty-one, she needed to exert a lot more energy than when she was twenty-one, but the effort paid off. She never felt better.
She pulled a scrungy from her left wrist and tied her long chestnut brown hair into a tight ponytail. Emerald green eyes sparkled with added moisture. She had pulled the band in her hair too tight, and it put tension into the sore spot on her head.
A half-ton steel girder had put an ever so slight crease in her skull. The doctor said that it would eventually fade, but in the meantime, it remained as a constant reminder of the tsunami that devastated the East Coast four months ago.
Montana looked down at her watch. Okay, I've got twenty minutes of training left. I'll have an hour and a half to get showered and changed for the meeting with General McKay.
She did stretching exercises several times and took a few deep breaths. The action was like sucking on a marshmallow. The air felt humid. The temperature had stayed in the high 90's all day. Even with the bright orange evening sun hanging low in the western sky, it still hovered near 85 degrees. This was average weather for September. Montana had grown accustomed to training in the heat. That was one of the perks of being stationed in Florida.
She took stock of both sides of the street. The list in-cluded several parked cars, two trash receptacles, a mailbox and a newspaper machine. She made a decision to cross to the other side. There were fewer objects for someone to hide behind. The waning daylight cast long shadows across the building facades and out into the street.
Montana started to run; controlled breathing; an even cush-ioned stride in the new shoes; perfect form. It felt good to run. She had only gone about a hundred and fifty feet when a darkly clothed figure emerged from the shadows of a doorway, two buildings ahead of her. She couldn't see his face, but she could see the short club in his left hand.
Her heart beat faster. She stopped abruptly and turned back in the other direction. Another figure jumped out in front of her, from the doorway she had just passed. I didn't see him. I have to learn better awareness. Montana put her back to the street, so that one assailant stood to her right and the other one approached from the left. If you let them both get near you at the same time, you're done, ol' girl!
"Click." The man to her right flipped open a switchblade and lunged at her with his right hand brandishing the weapon. He raised the knife in the air. Montana balled up her fists and assumed a fighting stance. The man lunged again. Montana deftly raised her right leg and planted her foot squarely in his stomach.
"Umph!" The sharp kick expelled the air in his lungs and he momentarily collapsed to the pavement.
Montana charged in the other man's direction. It put dis-tance between her and the fallen one. She concentrated on con-trolling her breathing, so that she didn't weaken herself with too much oxygen.
The man raised the club in his left hand as she approached. He swung at her. Montana took a stance and blocked the downward swing of his left wrist with an upward thrust of her right fore-arm. The fingers of her right hand were tightly together with the hand open in a karate chop position. As she brought her arm up to block the club, she punched him in the nose with her left fist.
"Ow-w, my nose, why you..." The man let go of the club. It clattered to the ground as he grabbed his nose with both hands.
Montana sprinted off down the street, crossing to the other side. Be observant. Pay attention to everything around you! Her breathing leveled off. She rubbed the knuckles of her left hand as she ran. I must have hit his teeth. She skinned two of her knuckles.
White car at 3 o'clock. There's someone in the driver's seat. She wasn't taking any chances this time. She ran up to the car before the occupant could react and swung the door open. With her back to the car, she reached over herself with her left arm and pulled the occupant out by his left arm. As his body ex-ited the car, Montana jammed her right hand into the space between his left arm socket and shoulder blade and drove his face into the narrow grassy spot at the edge of the sidewalk.
"All right, I'm down!" With his plea muffled by the grass, the man went limp in surrender.
"Okay, major," boomed the loudspeaker mounted high on the side of a nearby building. "Your session is done and by the looks of it so are my men."
Montana looked up at the tiny camera mounted on the light pole and laughed out loud. "I may have broken Ernie's nose. He zigged when he should have zagged." She turned and looked down the street behind her.
Ernie was holding his nose, but he raised his hand in a wave. Montana waved back and jogged off in the direction of the entrance to the training zone.