Standing The Final Watch
SF / Thriller
15 February, 2016
Dear Agent ,
Innocents abroad in post-Collapse America face slavery and death, until Nick Angriff and the Seventh Cavalry ride to the rescue.
The terrorists who slaughtered General Nick Angriff’s wife and daughter fulfilled their leader’s purpose, by leaving him one mission in life: to kill the killers.
Obsessed with revenge, Angriff needs a new reason for living before anger eats him alive. Miraculously, a higher duty calls, except nothing about it is divine.
With no loved ones to miss or mourn him, he agrees to command Operation Overtime, an elite military unit stored in suspended animation against the possibility of national collapse.
He awakens after sixty years to find the United States government destroyed, with a bizarre religious sect dominating the wreckage and enslaving the survivors. Resurrecting America becomes Angriff’s sacred duty.
Before he can save others, however, he must first stay alive. Angriff quickly discovers opposing plots within his brigade, including one to assassinate him. They are remnants of the extremist politics of the dead U.S.A., still fighting old battles, and he’s a target for both sides.
Without knowing friend from foe, Angriff leads the last Americans into the wasteland of North America, armed only with their guts, their wits and a determination to rebuild the United States.
STANDING THE FINAL WATCH, complete at 89,000 words, is a stand-alone science fiction thriller that can also be the first in a series, with book two already completed. This novel should appeal to fans of John Ringo’s Ghost series, David Drake’s Hammer’s Slammers and Dan Abnett’s Warhammer 40,000.
Lake Tahoe sparkled under a high sun in a cloudless sky. Somehow, the vultures wheeling high above the water knew Winslow Buffer was about to die. Mary Buffer, however, did not. From the warmth of the tour boat’s passenger lounge, she was delighted to watch her chubby CPA husband enjoying himself on their first vacation since Emily was born. The red-haired toddler stood on tiptoes and waved at her father. Her breathed frosted the glass. Winslow stood at the bow rail, despite the cold spray, and waved back.
Out of the chill, Mary was content just to watch Winslow act like a little boy. He often told her about his fantasy of feeling wind over the deck of a sailing ship cutting the clear waters of the Caribbean, and she assumed that’s what he was doing now. She certainly hoped so; her husband was a workaholic and deserved a few hours to dream and play.
Mary heard the muffled buzz of a speedboat closing on the port side of the tour boat, and glanced to her left, but there were people in the way. It was no big deal, Tahoe was covered with all kinds of boats. She looked back at Winslow in time to see something metal hit the deck and bounce toward him, stopping near his feet. It seemed vaguely familiar, but her mind did not recognize it before the blast of the grenade ripped him apart.