Thomas Wolfe, Assistant Director of the FBI, is branded a conspiracy nut, suspended, and then

                                 arrested when he attempts to expose a plot  (we learned of in My Retirement from the Agency) to

                                 detonate an atomic bomb during the President’s State of the Union Address. No one believes Wolfe

                                 because they have infiltrated the government and control the news media. They call themselves the

                                Order and their plan has been in the making for over a decade. Wolfe escapes custody and discovers

                                he cannot depend on any official sources to help, so he turns to those closest to him to save the

                                country. 

But first, Wolfe must break his brother out of a supermax prison. John Wolfe  may hold the key to stopping the Order. But before Tom can free his brother he must obtain information about the prison by breaking into a secret Homeland Security facility. This task takes Wolfe down a bizarre path, where old, trusted friends become mortal enemies.

The Order hires two of the world’s top assassins to kill Tom Wolfe and his allies. Wolfe’s ordeal involves duels with master gunfighters, espionage, escape and evasion tactics, and the death of several friends. 

Meanwhile, the clock is ticking. 

Wolfe finds himself underneath the US Capitol, fighting for his life, only minutes before nuclear detonation. Then events take an unexpected turn. The President of the United States asks Wolfe to perform one last, outrageously, possibly illegal, incredible task. But does he go too far?

​SAMPLE PASSAGES

Thomas Wolfe entered the Department of Justice conference room and was hit straightaway by the stink of frustration generated when action-oriented people are crowded together; waiting for something they believe will be a waste of their time. Present were representatives of the US Marshals Service, the Secret Service (President’s Detail), Homeland Security, Special Agents from the FBI’s Terrorist Intelligence Division, and two Special Agents from Wolfe’s own unit: the FBI’s Critical Incident Response Group. These were all veteran agents who had long ago gotten over the thrill of the chase. They were here because their bosses had ordered them to attend, and because of Wolfe’s reputation in the FBI and his military record. That didn’t mean they were onboard yet. They had their own cases and didn’t need someone else’s problems. Wolfe knew he only had a small opening in the window of opportunity to convince them his problem was their problem....Even though he worked at the Pentagon, Dr. Aberrant was a civilian and projected the arc-typical nerdish image of a narrow focused expert. He wore thick plastic eyeglasses, a black sweater-vest over a short-sleeve white shirt, and a narrow green tie. Under the sweater-vest Wolfe could see the print of a plastic pocket-protector filled with pens. Dr. Aberrant’s pants were stretched to their limits. His brown loafers were badly scuffed and needed a shine. He had attempted to hide his receding hairline by growing the graying dishwater-brown hair long on the sides and combing it over the balding area. He had a distracting habit of pushing his glasses up on his nose every few seconds, even though they were not slipping....“We believe the bomb, Mr. Wolfe reports the Order has, is a specially modified, much more powerful version of the Israeli LMX design. I’m only estimating, because I haven’t seen any specifications, but its yield could be in excess of ten kilotons....there will a 100 percent death rate—instantly—from heat and radiation out to over a mile and a half. There may be a few people in that range who live longer if they are in basements, behind large buildings, and such . . . I estimate approximately another three-quarters mile there will be an immediate death rate of 75 percent . . . However, even the initial survivors will likely die within a few days…”

“Hell on Earth!” exclaimed an agent in the center of the audience.

“Exactly!" Dr. Aberrant nodded then pushed his glasses up and continued, “Past that distance the immediate survival rate will improve; however, death will still take its toll. Radiation symptoms may not show for three-to-five days, but typically most will die from radiation poisoning within seven-to-ten days.” 

Everyone was silent.He completed his diagram while lecturing. “Further out—maybe another mile—a variety of severe illnesses will begin showing within a week of detonation. Again, people not behind a protective barrier, the very old, the very young, and people already sick are the most likely to die. The symptoms can range from skin sores, illness effecting the bowels, arrested respiration, and cancers developing years later.” It's a city killer....“A professor Gunge from the University of California at Berkley’s Physics Laboratory is believed to have provided the expertise to upgrade the bomb and install the shielding.”

“Well, let’s bring him in and make him talk!” said the agent in the center of the group.

Wolfe said, “He’s gone missing.”

Silence…

The agent in the center asked, “What about the guy who hired him?”

Wolfe said, “I believe it to be a prominent US Senator...” He left the sentence unfinished.

“Well, who is that?” asked an agent.

“Senator Fetterson from the State of Washington.”

There was a rumble throughout the room.

“Then let’s pick up Fetterson and sweat him for the details,” said the agent.

“We can’t.” Wolfe paused for a moment, and then continued, “I wanted to arrest Fetterson, but I couldn’t get a warrant. No one will listen to me. My superiors in the Bureau and all the judges I’ve approached think I’m crazy.” Wolfe paused for a moment then added, “There is a powerful organization—they call themselves the Order—hidden within in our government. The Order is behind this. After the detonation, they intend to step in and take over—”

“Whoa . . . is this some conspiracy plot?” interrupted the agent in the center. “Are you a conspiracy nut?”

A rumble of grunts and laughter washed over the room. A few chairs scrapped the floor as if people were preparing to stand up—walk out. ....

(BREAKING  INTO HOMELAND SECURITY)....police dressed in SWAT uniforms; including shotguns, M-4 rifles, Kevlar helmets with ballistic face plates, and full body armor were directing the workers into subgroups for identification and control. Wolfe realized that as soon as he passed through the cafeteria doors he would be under their control and his odds of escaping would be no better than a lazy fly evading a flyswatter. Then he saw the men’s restroom thirty feet short of the cafeteria’s entrance.

Wolfe made a quick right turn and pushed the men’s room door open.

As he passed the threshold, he heard someone shout, “Come back! You can’t go in there!”

Wolfe hooked a tight left, moved behind the door on the hinge side, and waited. 

He didn’t have long to wait.

The SWAT uniformed policeman entered and called out, “Hey, you can take a leak later—after we’ve found the intruder. Come out now!” There was a second of silence then the policeman added, “Where are you?” The policeman realized he hadn’t checked behind the door. He jumped back to gain distance as the door closed. His M-4 was up but the safety was still on. He wasn’t prepared to use the weapon. He was only rounding up a civil service worker who needed to take a wiz, not a dangerous suspect.

Wolfe acted as if he were zipping up his fly. 

“Get out! Join the others!” ordered the policeman.

As Wolfe passed he swept the policeman’s feet. The policeman’s back and head hit the concrete floor simultaneously. Wolfe followed him to the floor and struck with a hammer strike to the side of the neck, just below the helmet, which had remained strapped to his head. The combination of the fall and the hammer-fist attack shocked the policeman’s brain pan, causing unconsciousness. He was unconscious, but there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. 

Hurry, before backup shows!....A few minutes later, a SWAT policeman stepped out of the men’s room into the hallway. He nodded to his two teammates at the cafeteria doors—all’s clear....

OF COURSE, in addition to and fist-fighting and gunfighting action there is sex and romance .

For example, 

...Johnson and McCullum were sitting close together in what was becoming their standard secret meeting place. The act of pretending to be lovers, romantic kisses and light groping, was becoming easier—more natural for both of them. After a few minutes of making out, telling themselves it was for the sake of anyone watching, they began talking shop.

McCullum whispered, “I’m told by a reliable source that there’s a story being crafted at the Times about the Wolfe Brothers and their women. The story tags them as responsible for the nuclear explosion that will destroy the Capitol. The Times intends to run it the day after detonation.”

“So Wolfe is to be the fall guy,” said Johnson.

“Right!”

“If the Times knows about the bombing, why haven’t they blown the whistle to stop it?” exclaimed Johnson.

“Don’t be naïve darling,” McCullum said, almost purring, as she patted his thigh under the table then allowed her hand to slip further up his groin.

When Wolfe finally meets up with the couple for help the feds are directly behind him.......

...There was a loud knocking at the front door; immediately repeated by even harder knocking. The banging was very aggressive. They were threatening to break the door in. McCullum used the remote to switch on the wall mounted television. The view showed the front door and surrounding area outside. There were eight men dressed in navy blue windbreakers with US Marshal stenciled front and back. McCullum clicked the remote again and the view switched to the alley in the rear of the house, where they saw two black SUVs and more US Marshal windbreakers. Everyone had drawn weapons.

Johnson jumped up from the table, “We’re screwed!”

Wolfe asked McCullum, “Do you have another way out of here?”

“Yes, follow me!” She led Wolfe to a small laundry room and opened a door disguised as a storage shelf. Inside was a set of stairs leading down into darkness. “Take this down to a tunnel that leads underneath the alley and comes up in another condo. The garage opens to the adjacent street—not the alley—should be outside the Marshal’s security perimeter.” She handed Wolfe a set of keys. “Take the car in the garage.”

Wolfe turned to descend the stairs.

She grabbed his arm, holding him back, “Tom, you are the only chance of stopping the bomb—there’s nothing else.”

“What about you two?” he asked.

Johnson answered, “We’re about to be incarcerated.”

No help…

Wolfe peered down the stairs, leading into the dark hole, and asked, “How did you build this the tunnel?”

McCullum said, “I bought both townhouses, on corresponding sides of the alleyway, before the alley was paved. I bribed the contractor to dig the tunnel.”

“But…”

There was a louder banging at the front door.

“There’s no time! Go now! We’ll hold them off as long as possible,” said McCullum.

Wolfe stepped through the cabinet doorway and descended into the darkness. At the bottom, he scratched at the walls for a light switch then yelled up to McCullum, “How do you turn on the lights?”

McCullum shouted back, “There are no lights!” Then she slammed the cabinet door closed, plunging Wolfe into total blackness. 

Using only his sense of touch Wolfe gingerly moved forward. His head brushed the ceiling and he could feel the floor through his shoes. The surfaces were rippled and hard—probably steel. He touched the walls and they were of the same composition. The tunnel felt like a large, round drainage pipe made of corrugated steel, about six feet in diameter. 

Wolfe shuffled blindly through the total darkness of the underground passageway; telling himself he had to trust McCullum. There was really no choice. There was no going back, so he plunged into pitch blackness—a blind man recklessly searching for salvation. Traveling through the lightless tunnel seemed to take forever. 

Wolfe’s shinbone collided with something hard. He stifled a cry of pain. He was at the end of the tunnel. His hands found the handrail to a staircase. He blindly placed a foot on the first step. Tentatively, he took a second step. Wolfe moved faster now; gaining confidence as he climbed the stairs, even though he was still in total blackness. Finally, he encountered a door. He groped around until he found the handle. It was unlocked, so he slowly opened the door ....

OTHER FEATURES

An old rival named Rivers is back. He starts out with the goal of killing Tom Wolfe but nothing is ever for certain in this tale of action and intrigue.  Also, a new menace confronts Wolfe as he meets Decker one of the last "old school" CIA agents who meets all the remarks of your favorite assassin. Decker is clearly Wolfe's equal, if not superior, in all forms of combat and the two men inevitably duel to the death, which at this level of skill is far more than just who can draw and shoot the fastest. Their battle is mental as well as physical . 

Wolfe must break John out of a Supermax prison in a convoluted, multi-step and dangerous process, involving breaking into a secure Homeland Security complex to find the plans for the prison.  Then he must break onto a military base by taking on the role of an active duty Special Operations Ranger... soon he's a fugitive nationwide....

The atomic bomb will not be denied and the chapters describing Wolfe's struggle to keep Washington DC safe from destruction are gripping and fast paced. Also, the description of the bomb's destruction  are not only exciting and frightful but accurate. Significant experience from my military days and subsequent research went into these passages.

As noted in the beginning , the final battle turns out not to be the end. The nation is faced with serious repercussions that must be resolved and the President of the United States calls on Wolfe to do just that. But is the president asking too much?

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