Monday, January 18, 2010
My first review
Wow! I just read the new book by Chris keys, Reprisal! The Eagle Rises! He’s Tom Clancy all over again. I was treated to thrills and chills, smacked in the face and brought to tears. I just couldn’t put it down. It’s fast paced and a solid story. You need this book on your summer reading list! I can not wait for the second book! ---Doug Bondie
Friday, January 8, 2010
Featured author
Hi there! I'm excited! I am featured Author on Writersface.com I was chosen after they read my profile and synopsis of "Reprisal! The Eagle Rises!" Why not take a minute and go check it out. I hope to be able to share alot more in the near future with you. Things like an excerpt from my up and coming ebook, "The Motor Home" its a true story that happened to me. It about an old motor home and a deal I made with God! I advise you not to make deals with God because he'll hold you to the terms of the deal no matter what!
Thanks for reading Chris Keys
Thanks for reading Chris Keys
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
You want to read this
Hey look at that I figured it out! Now if someone just figure sout i'm out here post this stuff. I have to say I've good success with my sites at Homestead, Flordia Writers Assoc. and AuthorNation as far as people reading the excerpts. Good reviews so far. Submitted my second book today under my really name. Its a short story about a motor home, and lots of challenges and then lots of God and how it all brought closer to God. It a true story, but it reads alittle like scifi. The excerpt below from Reprisal! The Eagle Rises! and look another excerpt next week. Please leave comments!
Moving with deliberate slowness, a dark blue, three year old, Toyota Camry, crept down the alleyway of the industrial park that bordered the refinery on the western edge. The car had four men crammed inside, each one dressed in a black combat jumpsuit, a black ski mask and dark gray latex gloves.
The car stopped about a hundred feet from the spot they had chosen to enter the refinery and the man seated behind the driver climbed out and moved quickly to the back corner of the car as the driver popped the trunk. No light shown as the lid opened, since the man had broken it earlier while preparing for this moment.
Pulling a glow stick from his pocket, he cracked it, shook it and then dropped it in the trunk illuminating it with a dull green glow. He drew a .22 caliber-target rifle from the trunk that had a sound suppressor attached to it and a 20x night scope with tinted lens to allow him to look right at light sources without hurting his eyes. It only took a moment to close the trunk lid, brace himself on it so that he was able to aim and fire, which he did, five times. His aim was true, taking out the three halogen security lights spaced forty yards apart, thirty feet in the air along the fence line and the two security cameras mounted on poles some twenty yards behind the fence and forty feet in the air.
As soon as the last light winked out the other three men exited the car and retrieved their weapons along with a large duffle bag from the car’s trunk. They left the car running just in case they needed a quick escape as they walked along the building towards the spot in the fence line where they had chosen to cut thru. Under a waning quarter moon and dressed in their black combat jump suits the men were almost invisible in the now unlit alleyway.
Each man carried a nine millimeter Uzi machine pistol and a small mag-lite flashlight with a hood that forced the beam to point downward protecting against stray beams drawing attention as they walked down the alley. As they crossed the open space between the buildings of the industrial complex and the refinery fence, each man sweeping his field of vision as they moved, all was clear.
The first man out of the car had already knelt down by the fence and was making a visual sweep of the area inside the fence when another man knelt next to him and began cutting the fence wires with bolt cutters he had pulled from the duffle bag. They had chosen this spot because it was the same spot that they had paid a local gang to cut thru several times in the last three months. Once the hole was large enough, they pulled it open further, spreading the opening in the fence until it was big enough to allow them to step thru easily.
They moved quickly to the large gasoline storage tank closest to them, it held over twenty thousand gallon of gasoline and began searching for the small relief valve, which was similar to a hose bib on a residential house. The bib allowed the refinery workers to access the tank for test samples from the bottom of the tank without starting the large pumps required to stir the tank and pump the gasoline out of the top of it.
It took only a few seconds to find it and almost as quickly, they filled eight collapsible five-gallon plastic containers which they had pulled from the duffle bag. Then each man reached into the bag after filling his containers and pulled two small packages from the duffle bag which they slipped into their pockets. They then walked off in different directions into the refinery, leaving the duffle bag by the test valve, which they had purposely left open flooding the nearby area with gasoline.
In the security office, John was leaning back in his office recliner with his feet propped up on the console in front of him trying to sleep. He didn’t see the little red flashing lights blinking in front of him. If he had, he would have been alerted to the break in that had just happened. If he had, he might have saved his own life. If only he hadn’t been so intent on saving his energy for game time.
*****
“Yousef, have you finished the calculations for the formula?” Grant Ortiz, the night supervisor with a PHD in chemical engineering and twenty years experience under his belt, asked the kid as he walked up to Yousef’s work station.
Yousef, a late twenties something student from Qatar was a stereotypical Muslim male with his brown complexion, a full black beard, black moustache, bushy black eye brows and thick black hair. The fact that he carried a few extra pounds clarified for Ortiz, he had never really had to work for a living or worry about where his next meal was coming from. Ortiz who stood six foot six and weighed over three hundred pounds clearly intimidated five foot eight inch bespectacled Yousef, as evidenced by the nervous shifting he did as he approached.
Ortiz had been an oil field worker for fifteen years before he became a chemical engineer. At thirty-five he could see the future wasn’t working on the rigs but at the refinery. The refinery had better hours, a lot less stress, less heavy labor and a far better paycheck and pension. So he went back to school and got the degree he needed to make the switch.
The story about Yousef was his father was a close relative of some Sheik or something in Qatar who was somehow connected to the rumored merger and that he was to be a manager once it went through. Ortiz did his best to hide his contempt for the rich young Arab but at times his patience just plain ran out.
“I do not think I fully understand the process. I cannot seem to get the formula to work.” Yousef replied in Arabic accented English, as he glanced over his shoulder towards Ortiz but was really looking past him to the clock on the wall behind him. He needed to stall a few more minutes.
“Don’t understand?” Ortiz’s anger flashed and his voice volume rose. “Didn’t that fancy English school, teach you anything about formulas? Aren’t you supposed to be a chemical engineer? Shit boy, my ten year old son can write that formula, test it and add octane in his sleep!” Ortiz shouted before he got control of himself and offered to help Yousef yet again. “I’m going to show it to you one more time. Shit at this rate, you’ll be qualified at the end of your tour here to clean toilets and that’s about it. Now pay attention, damn it!” Ortiz roared, his frustration getting the better of him again.
Yousef did his best impression of someone who was interested, but his mind was racing, counting down to the time to when he was to act. He wondered if the others had been able to accomplish their tasks or if he was going to have to perform the secondary plan on his own.
Yousef’s two lab coworkers, who were grad students from Pakistan, entered the room and began snickering at seeing Ortiz hunched over Yousef’s work station yet again and Yousef clearly acting as if he had made yet another mistake.
“What the hell are you A-holes looking at?” Ortiz roared as he noticed the other two young men.
“Oh nothing, we just can’t help but wonder how a Cambridge education can leave a person so lacking in skills. Perhaps it is because one must attend classes, not merely have a parent pay for them.” The taller of the two snickered as they stepped back out the door, leaving the lab. Ortiz glanced at Yousef, who was looking down apparently avoiding the confrontation.
“Boy, don’t you have anything to say to that?” Ortiz asked as he looked at Yousef, who was looking down and mumbling something to himself. “Yousef!” Ortiz raised his voice several octaves to get his attention.
“Well, I…” Yousef stammered as he looked up and then quickly away.
“They are eating your lunch, buddy. You’ve got to stand up for yourself in this life! Now pay attention! Look here, now you add…..” Ortiz continued speaking but Yousef didn’t hear a word. He glanced at the clock again and saw it was finally time to act. Quickly he reached around to his lower back with his right hand, which was away from Ortiz, and retrieved a small semi-auto 9 mil hand gun which he had tucked in his belt, hidden under his lab coat. He brought it up quickly and pressed the small barrel against Ortiz’s temple and fired. The big man never even realized what was happening.
“I think I will stand up for myself now!” Stated Yousef, completely dropping his mild mannered facade, as he pushed his chair back from the slumped over body of Ortiz, letting it lay where it fell across his desk top.
The small report from the gun caught the two grad students off guard as they walked down the hall. Neither had recognized the muffled sound as that of a gun shot, but it they had stopped and tried to hear if there were more sounds. They were only a few dozen steps down the hall when
Yousef exited the lab and turned towards them. Yousef started quickly walking forward, his eyes never leaving his targets.
“Did you hear something?” The taller of the two grad students asked as they started to step towards Yousef.
“Hey, what’s that on your lab coat?” The shorter grad student asked out of curiosity.
Yousef didn’t answer, not having comprehended the question, as he continued to move quickly forward towards the two young men his focus was so intense. The two men stopped and stood rooted in place, clearly perplexed by Yousef’s lack of response and his hurried approach.
When Yousef had closed to within ten feet he raised the gun and fired twice rapidly. He hit both men in the chest and they collapsed to the floor with large red spots growing on the chest of their lab coats as he stepped past them. Yousef didn’t bother to look down at the two men he knew they were dead or soon would be, so he continued down the hall to the elevator. It was then, standing in front of the silver mirrored finished doors of the elevator that he noticed the blood spattered on the left shoulder of his lab coat and he finally comprehended the last question the small Pakistani had asked.
He rode the elevator to the ground floor then walked briskly towards the main entrance and the security room. As he reached the edge of the door he stopped, slipped the gun into the pocket of his lab coat and gathered his composure. He took a moment to think about what he needed to say and what he was about to. Then he stepped forward to the doorway and banged solidly on the door.
“Help me!” He yelled as he slammed his hand on the door again and again.
“What the hell!” John scowled as he was startled from his sleep and bounced out of his chair trying to get his bearings. He first looked at the monitors and saw that two of them were black. “Shit!” He exclaimed. Then he noticed the flashing lights. “Shit!” he exclaimed again.
Yousef continued to bang on the door. “Help! We need help!” Not giving John time to think.
John lurched as quickly as he could around the desk towards the door on his still stiff legs, catching his foot in some wires under the edge of the desk and nearly tripping. He gave his foot a strong yank at the last moment and the wires gave way allowing him to stumble forward. He then pulled the door open and practically screamed at Yousef. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I was getting a sample for Dr. Ortiz, when these guys jumped me and started hitting me!” Exclaimed Yousef, as he pointed towards the blood on his lab coat. “Come on, I think we will catch them if we hurry, they are stealing gasoline!” Yousef then turned and headed off down the hall not giving John a chance to say no.
John strode into the hallway after Yousef, failing to push the panic button, which set off the alarm at the local police substation. “Where were you when they jumped you?” he asked as they started running down the hallway towards the refinery access door with Yousef leading the way.
“I was over by tank number twelve. There were probably three or four of them.” Yousef added.
“I’d better call for backup” John stated as he clicked his radio buttoned on his shirt pocket. “Shit it doesn’t seem to be working.’ John then realized that the cord he had tripped on was the connection for the radio which dangled loosely under the console. He slowed down and came to a stop as they exited the building and stepped into the refinery yard. “Hey, where are you hurt?” John asked as it registered in his sleepy brain that he hadn’t noticed if Yousef actually had any facial injuries.
“Oh, it was over there.” Yousef started to move towards the maze of piping running off towards the tanks.
John took a few more halting steps as the door closed behind him and then stopped again. “No, I mean where are you bleeding from?” John asked as he reached half heartedly for his side arm.
Yousef stopped and quickly whirled around, pointing his gun right at John’s forehead.
“What the….” John’s voice trailed off as he froze unsure what to do.
“Move, towards tank twelve,” Yousef commanded.
“I don’t under….” John’s voice stuck in his throat.
“Shut up or I’ll kill you right here!” Yousef growled viciously as he prodded him forward by wiggling the gun the direction he wanted John to go.
From the shadows emerged the four men dressed in dark clothing and ski masks. Each carrying an Uzi machine pistol and they formed a semi-circle around John with Yousef falling in behind him, prodding him forward with the barrel of his gun towards tank number twelve.
“Who are you guys?” John asked sheepishly.
“Shut up, move!” Yousef prodded him with the barrel of the gun in his ribs.
“Hey, I didn’t see anything! Take all the gas you want. I won’t tell anyone anything! Just don’t kill me!” John begged as he was shoved forward roughly again. “Look, I’ve got a family. They really need me. I’m the only one that works! Come on, talk to me! Don’t kill me!” John continued to beg as he stumbled over the graveled walkway in the dark.
“Stop!” Yousef commanded and John stopped. He quickly looked around and saw that he was standing in a shallow pool of gasoline, a couple inches deep, that was pooling from under the test valve on tank twelve, several yards away. A large black duffle bag was lying next to the valve.
“Take out your service revolver!” Yousef commanded as the other four men stepped back towards the pathway to the truck staging area and loading platform, where they hesitated for only a moment to watch the drama unfolding before them.
“Guys, this is real dangerous! This stuff could blow up half of Houston! Here, take my gun.” John stated as he began pulling the gun from his holster. “I don’t care, but I gotta let someone know so that the gas can be cleaned up before there’s a problem.” John rattled on as he held out his hand holding the gun out by the trigger guard. “Hey, you know, I’ve never even fired this thing, not even at a range.”
“That’s too bad. You might have been a hero if you had. And by the way, there already is a problem.” Yousef said as he fired twice. Both bullets struck John in the stomach dropping him to the ground. As he fell he let go of his gun and clutched his stomach where blood seeped through his fingers. Upon hitting the ground, gasoline splashed in all directions, his nose filled with the stench of gasoline, and he wondered who these guys were and why had they shot him. The last thought that crossed his mind was he hoped Dallas won the game.
Yousef tossed his empty gun into the pool of spreading gasoline knowing it would be tied to the young Hispanic gang members, then he striped off the lab coat and an air bladder from around his waist tossing both to the ground. Then he quickly peeled off the fake beard, moustache and eye brows and tossed them to the ground as well He quickly turned and walked back to the main building and security office.
Once in the Security Office he found the release for the electronic gate locks and released the one nearest the loading platform. He then turned off the automated fire alarm and quickly made his way to the loading platform where he climbed into the cab of the last of four gasoline tanker trucks leaving the plant. As he climbed on board he asked the driver, “Are all the timers set?”
“Yes.” Was the one word reply, from the driver.
“Then Allah is with us so far and our names are halfway written in heaven.”
“Praise be to Allah!” The driver exclaimed with a smile beaming across his face.
The truck exited on to the deserted street and picked up speed quickly. They didn’t bother to stop for any of the traffic lights or stop signs, as the streets were completely deserted, just as the months of recon had told them they would be.
Ten minutes later the tanker truck entered the I-10 freeway heading west towards Austin, just as the sun was rising in the east. Yousef checked the dashboard clock and stated out loud, “Any moment now!”
Suddenly a blinding flash reflected off the mirrors as one of the huge tanks exploded throwing burning debris and monstrous chunks of metal for over a mile in all directions. A moment later a large dark cloud of smoke began filling the eastern sky, as a second blinding flash erupted, just to the right of the first explosion and then another and another and another. The whole refinery was quickly involved and the fire began spreading to the industrial park next to it.
*******
Moving with deliberate slowness, a dark blue, three year old, Toyota Camry, crept down the alleyway of the industrial park that bordered the refinery on the western edge. The car had four men crammed inside, each one dressed in a black combat jumpsuit, a black ski mask and dark gray latex gloves.
The car stopped about a hundred feet from the spot they had chosen to enter the refinery and the man seated behind the driver climbed out and moved quickly to the back corner of the car as the driver popped the trunk. No light shown as the lid opened, since the man had broken it earlier while preparing for this moment.
Pulling a glow stick from his pocket, he cracked it, shook it and then dropped it in the trunk illuminating it with a dull green glow. He drew a .22 caliber-target rifle from the trunk that had a sound suppressor attached to it and a 20x night scope with tinted lens to allow him to look right at light sources without hurting his eyes. It only took a moment to close the trunk lid, brace himself on it so that he was able to aim and fire, which he did, five times. His aim was true, taking out the three halogen security lights spaced forty yards apart, thirty feet in the air along the fence line and the two security cameras mounted on poles some twenty yards behind the fence and forty feet in the air.
As soon as the last light winked out the other three men exited the car and retrieved their weapons along with a large duffle bag from the car’s trunk. They left the car running just in case they needed a quick escape as they walked along the building towards the spot in the fence line where they had chosen to cut thru. Under a waning quarter moon and dressed in their black combat jump suits the men were almost invisible in the now unlit alleyway.
Each man carried a nine millimeter Uzi machine pistol and a small mag-lite flashlight with a hood that forced the beam to point downward protecting against stray beams drawing attention as they walked down the alley. As they crossed the open space between the buildings of the industrial complex and the refinery fence, each man sweeping his field of vision as they moved, all was clear.
The first man out of the car had already knelt down by the fence and was making a visual sweep of the area inside the fence when another man knelt next to him and began cutting the fence wires with bolt cutters he had pulled from the duffle bag. They had chosen this spot because it was the same spot that they had paid a local gang to cut thru several times in the last three months. Once the hole was large enough, they pulled it open further, spreading the opening in the fence until it was big enough to allow them to step thru easily.
They moved quickly to the large gasoline storage tank closest to them, it held over twenty thousand gallon of gasoline and began searching for the small relief valve, which was similar to a hose bib on a residential house. The bib allowed the refinery workers to access the tank for test samples from the bottom of the tank without starting the large pumps required to stir the tank and pump the gasoline out of the top of it.
It took only a few seconds to find it and almost as quickly, they filled eight collapsible five-gallon plastic containers which they had pulled from the duffle bag. Then each man reached into the bag after filling his containers and pulled two small packages from the duffle bag which they slipped into their pockets. They then walked off in different directions into the refinery, leaving the duffle bag by the test valve, which they had purposely left open flooding the nearby area with gasoline.
In the security office, John was leaning back in his office recliner with his feet propped up on the console in front of him trying to sleep. He didn’t see the little red flashing lights blinking in front of him. If he had, he would have been alerted to the break in that had just happened. If he had, he might have saved his own life. If only he hadn’t been so intent on saving his energy for game time.
*****
“Yousef, have you finished the calculations for the formula?” Grant Ortiz, the night supervisor with a PHD in chemical engineering and twenty years experience under his belt, asked the kid as he walked up to Yousef’s work station.
Yousef, a late twenties something student from Qatar was a stereotypical Muslim male with his brown complexion, a full black beard, black moustache, bushy black eye brows and thick black hair. The fact that he carried a few extra pounds clarified for Ortiz, he had never really had to work for a living or worry about where his next meal was coming from. Ortiz who stood six foot six and weighed over three hundred pounds clearly intimidated five foot eight inch bespectacled Yousef, as evidenced by the nervous shifting he did as he approached.
Ortiz had been an oil field worker for fifteen years before he became a chemical engineer. At thirty-five he could see the future wasn’t working on the rigs but at the refinery. The refinery had better hours, a lot less stress, less heavy labor and a far better paycheck and pension. So he went back to school and got the degree he needed to make the switch.
The story about Yousef was his father was a close relative of some Sheik or something in Qatar who was somehow connected to the rumored merger and that he was to be a manager once it went through. Ortiz did his best to hide his contempt for the rich young Arab but at times his patience just plain ran out.
“I do not think I fully understand the process. I cannot seem to get the formula to work.” Yousef replied in Arabic accented English, as he glanced over his shoulder towards Ortiz but was really looking past him to the clock on the wall behind him. He needed to stall a few more minutes.
“Don’t understand?” Ortiz’s anger flashed and his voice volume rose. “Didn’t that fancy English school, teach you anything about formulas? Aren’t you supposed to be a chemical engineer? Shit boy, my ten year old son can write that formula, test it and add octane in his sleep!” Ortiz shouted before he got control of himself and offered to help Yousef yet again. “I’m going to show it to you one more time. Shit at this rate, you’ll be qualified at the end of your tour here to clean toilets and that’s about it. Now pay attention, damn it!” Ortiz roared, his frustration getting the better of him again.
Yousef did his best impression of someone who was interested, but his mind was racing, counting down to the time to when he was to act. He wondered if the others had been able to accomplish their tasks or if he was going to have to perform the secondary plan on his own.
Yousef’s two lab coworkers, who were grad students from Pakistan, entered the room and began snickering at seeing Ortiz hunched over Yousef’s work station yet again and Yousef clearly acting as if he had made yet another mistake.
“What the hell are you A-holes looking at?” Ortiz roared as he noticed the other two young men.
“Oh nothing, we just can’t help but wonder how a Cambridge education can leave a person so lacking in skills. Perhaps it is because one must attend classes, not merely have a parent pay for them.” The taller of the two snickered as they stepped back out the door, leaving the lab. Ortiz glanced at Yousef, who was looking down apparently avoiding the confrontation.
“Boy, don’t you have anything to say to that?” Ortiz asked as he looked at Yousef, who was looking down and mumbling something to himself. “Yousef!” Ortiz raised his voice several octaves to get his attention.
“Well, I…” Yousef stammered as he looked up and then quickly away.
“They are eating your lunch, buddy. You’ve got to stand up for yourself in this life! Now pay attention! Look here, now you add…..” Ortiz continued speaking but Yousef didn’t hear a word. He glanced at the clock again and saw it was finally time to act. Quickly he reached around to his lower back with his right hand, which was away from Ortiz, and retrieved a small semi-auto 9 mil hand gun which he had tucked in his belt, hidden under his lab coat. He brought it up quickly and pressed the small barrel against Ortiz’s temple and fired. The big man never even realized what was happening.
“I think I will stand up for myself now!” Stated Yousef, completely dropping his mild mannered facade, as he pushed his chair back from the slumped over body of Ortiz, letting it lay where it fell across his desk top.
The small report from the gun caught the two grad students off guard as they walked down the hall. Neither had recognized the muffled sound as that of a gun shot, but it they had stopped and tried to hear if there were more sounds. They were only a few dozen steps down the hall when
Yousef exited the lab and turned towards them. Yousef started quickly walking forward, his eyes never leaving his targets.
“Did you hear something?” The taller of the two grad students asked as they started to step towards Yousef.
“Hey, what’s that on your lab coat?” The shorter grad student asked out of curiosity.
Yousef didn’t answer, not having comprehended the question, as he continued to move quickly forward towards the two young men his focus was so intense. The two men stopped and stood rooted in place, clearly perplexed by Yousef’s lack of response and his hurried approach.
When Yousef had closed to within ten feet he raised the gun and fired twice rapidly. He hit both men in the chest and they collapsed to the floor with large red spots growing on the chest of their lab coats as he stepped past them. Yousef didn’t bother to look down at the two men he knew they were dead or soon would be, so he continued down the hall to the elevator. It was then, standing in front of the silver mirrored finished doors of the elevator that he noticed the blood spattered on the left shoulder of his lab coat and he finally comprehended the last question the small Pakistani had asked.
He rode the elevator to the ground floor then walked briskly towards the main entrance and the security room. As he reached the edge of the door he stopped, slipped the gun into the pocket of his lab coat and gathered his composure. He took a moment to think about what he needed to say and what he was about to. Then he stepped forward to the doorway and banged solidly on the door.
“Help me!” He yelled as he slammed his hand on the door again and again.
“What the hell!” John scowled as he was startled from his sleep and bounced out of his chair trying to get his bearings. He first looked at the monitors and saw that two of them were black. “Shit!” He exclaimed. Then he noticed the flashing lights. “Shit!” he exclaimed again.
Yousef continued to bang on the door. “Help! We need help!” Not giving John time to think.
John lurched as quickly as he could around the desk towards the door on his still stiff legs, catching his foot in some wires under the edge of the desk and nearly tripping. He gave his foot a strong yank at the last moment and the wires gave way allowing him to stumble forward. He then pulled the door open and practically screamed at Yousef. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I was getting a sample for Dr. Ortiz, when these guys jumped me and started hitting me!” Exclaimed Yousef, as he pointed towards the blood on his lab coat. “Come on, I think we will catch them if we hurry, they are stealing gasoline!” Yousef then turned and headed off down the hall not giving John a chance to say no.
John strode into the hallway after Yousef, failing to push the panic button, which set off the alarm at the local police substation. “Where were you when they jumped you?” he asked as they started running down the hallway towards the refinery access door with Yousef leading the way.
“I was over by tank number twelve. There were probably three or four of them.” Yousef added.
“I’d better call for backup” John stated as he clicked his radio buttoned on his shirt pocket. “Shit it doesn’t seem to be working.’ John then realized that the cord he had tripped on was the connection for the radio which dangled loosely under the console. He slowed down and came to a stop as they exited the building and stepped into the refinery yard. “Hey, where are you hurt?” John asked as it registered in his sleepy brain that he hadn’t noticed if Yousef actually had any facial injuries.
“Oh, it was over there.” Yousef started to move towards the maze of piping running off towards the tanks.
John took a few more halting steps as the door closed behind him and then stopped again. “No, I mean where are you bleeding from?” John asked as he reached half heartedly for his side arm.
Yousef stopped and quickly whirled around, pointing his gun right at John’s forehead.
“What the….” John’s voice trailed off as he froze unsure what to do.
“Move, towards tank twelve,” Yousef commanded.
“I don’t under….” John’s voice stuck in his throat.
“Shut up or I’ll kill you right here!” Yousef growled viciously as he prodded him forward by wiggling the gun the direction he wanted John to go.
From the shadows emerged the four men dressed in dark clothing and ski masks. Each carrying an Uzi machine pistol and they formed a semi-circle around John with Yousef falling in behind him, prodding him forward with the barrel of his gun towards tank number twelve.
“Who are you guys?” John asked sheepishly.
“Shut up, move!” Yousef prodded him with the barrel of the gun in his ribs.
“Hey, I didn’t see anything! Take all the gas you want. I won’t tell anyone anything! Just don’t kill me!” John begged as he was shoved forward roughly again. “Look, I’ve got a family. They really need me. I’m the only one that works! Come on, talk to me! Don’t kill me!” John continued to beg as he stumbled over the graveled walkway in the dark.
“Stop!” Yousef commanded and John stopped. He quickly looked around and saw that he was standing in a shallow pool of gasoline, a couple inches deep, that was pooling from under the test valve on tank twelve, several yards away. A large black duffle bag was lying next to the valve.
“Take out your service revolver!” Yousef commanded as the other four men stepped back towards the pathway to the truck staging area and loading platform, where they hesitated for only a moment to watch the drama unfolding before them.
“Guys, this is real dangerous! This stuff could blow up half of Houston! Here, take my gun.” John stated as he began pulling the gun from his holster. “I don’t care, but I gotta let someone know so that the gas can be cleaned up before there’s a problem.” John rattled on as he held out his hand holding the gun out by the trigger guard. “Hey, you know, I’ve never even fired this thing, not even at a range.”
“That’s too bad. You might have been a hero if you had. And by the way, there already is a problem.” Yousef said as he fired twice. Both bullets struck John in the stomach dropping him to the ground. As he fell he let go of his gun and clutched his stomach where blood seeped through his fingers. Upon hitting the ground, gasoline splashed in all directions, his nose filled with the stench of gasoline, and he wondered who these guys were and why had they shot him. The last thought that crossed his mind was he hoped Dallas won the game.
Yousef tossed his empty gun into the pool of spreading gasoline knowing it would be tied to the young Hispanic gang members, then he striped off the lab coat and an air bladder from around his waist tossing both to the ground. Then he quickly peeled off the fake beard, moustache and eye brows and tossed them to the ground as well He quickly turned and walked back to the main building and security office.
Once in the Security Office he found the release for the electronic gate locks and released the one nearest the loading platform. He then turned off the automated fire alarm and quickly made his way to the loading platform where he climbed into the cab of the last of four gasoline tanker trucks leaving the plant. As he climbed on board he asked the driver, “Are all the timers set?”
“Yes.” Was the one word reply, from the driver.
“Then Allah is with us so far and our names are halfway written in heaven.”
“Praise be to Allah!” The driver exclaimed with a smile beaming across his face.
The truck exited on to the deserted street and picked up speed quickly. They didn’t bother to stop for any of the traffic lights or stop signs, as the streets were completely deserted, just as the months of recon had told them they would be.
Ten minutes later the tanker truck entered the I-10 freeway heading west towards Austin, just as the sun was rising in the east. Yousef checked the dashboard clock and stated out loud, “Any moment now!”
Suddenly a blinding flash reflected off the mirrors as one of the huge tanks exploded throwing burning debris and monstrous chunks of metal for over a mile in all directions. A moment later a large dark cloud of smoke began filling the eastern sky, as a second blinding flash erupted, just to the right of the first explosion and then another and another and another. The whole refinery was quickly involved and the fire began spreading to the industrial park next to it.
*******
Saturday, January 2, 2010
an excerpt-Reprisal! The Eagle Rises!
Ok I'm going to post an excerpt but will probably be too long so it may take two or three blogs. be patient and read the blogs one after another. Her we go. Oops! I guess w won't be giving yoiu the excerpt after all. the site won't let me import it so I'll suggest that you go to Authorchriskeys.homestead and visit my website which will be up an operational soon. the excerpt is there along some additional information about me and my books.
Exciting news
Ok i'm new at this. so i'll just start. wow, I jst recieved a big honor. A publisher is going to publish my first book. That's really exciting for a writer to have first a literary agent tell you they like you stuff, then to have the very first publisher you snet it to buy it and give you a good offer as if you'd been writing for years and had other successes under your belt is really exciting. The book is titled, Reprisal! The Eagle Rises! by me Chris Keys and its being published by Strategic Book Publishers. It'll be a paperback and it will be out in June 2010.
I read lots of books, action/adventure, thrillers, who done its. It just doesn't get old. Yet i do find that some of the authors never seem to know hoe to finish their story. They reach the limax of the story and then its one or two pages on rapid closure and its over. It always makes me feel like the story wasn't told completely.
I can appreciate the idea of leaving the reader pumped up but for me that short rehash fo the stories main themes or love interest of the main characters just ruins the high your on after the climax and its a big let down. I not sure I want to read the next by that author. I usually do but i fthe next two books are that way i stop and go look for soemone else to read. I think you'll like how my book finishes but no I won't give it away. though it does leave you wnating more.
I read lots of books, action/adventure, thrillers, who done its. It just doesn't get old. Yet i do find that some of the authors never seem to know hoe to finish their story. They reach the limax of the story and then its one or two pages on rapid closure and its over. It always makes me feel like the story wasn't told completely.
I can appreciate the idea of leaving the reader pumped up but for me that short rehash fo the stories main themes or love interest of the main characters just ruins the high your on after the climax and its a big let down. I not sure I want to read the next by that author. I usually do but i fthe next two books are that way i stop and go look for soemone else to read. I think you'll like how my book finishes but no I won't give it away. though it does leave you wnating more.
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