San Diego Dead by Mark Nolan
Danger awaits Marine-turned-lawyer Jake Wolfe on his vacation to sunny San Diego and Cabo San Lucas. There he finds sugary white sand beaches, warm turquoise water, boat trips among gray whales, and … cold blooded murder.
It was meant to be a relaxing holiday for Jake and his adopted war dog, Cody, but violence erupts when he crosses paths with a criminal cartel urgently seeking to reclaim a deadly package.
Jake learns the missing item is a threat to US citizens and vows to stop the cartel from possessing it, no matter what vigilante justice actions he might have to take.
Time is running out and thousands of innocent lives are at risk. Will the two combat veterans be able to retrieve the dangerous item before the killers do? The clock is ticking, but Jake hopes that if anybody can help find the package, it has to be his highly-trained and ultra-intelligent dog, Cody.
Read on for an exclusive excerpt from San Diego Dead:
In Washington, DC, Secret Service Agent Shannon McKay worked late as she often did. It was past midnight, yet she remained at her desk in an office located in the secret tunnels below the White House, known as the Catacombs.
One of her assets in California had conducted a dark mission tonight, but he hadn’t arrived at the rendezvous afterward. Had he been captured, wounded or killed?
She thought about Jake Wolfe for a moment. The man was a loose cannon, but he got results. Jake and Cody helped protect America from deadly threats, and they did it their way or not at all.
She’d learned to compromise with the two Marine veterans who’d come home from battles overseas but never fully adjusted to peacetime. They were civilians now, but once a Marine—always a Marine. That was the key to understanding them. Sergeant Cody was worth his weight in gold, but Jake often went rogue. He had a temper and a protective streak in him that overruled his orders. The dog wouldn’t listen to anybody else, though, so you had to take them both together or not at all.
She raised a hand and rubbed the back of her neck as she looked at a computer screen displaying a map of Southern California’s coastline. “Where did you disappear to? Don’t die on me now, when your country needs you the most.”
Cody meant more to her than just a chess piece on the game board. He and another highly intelligent service dog named Skye had mated. The breeder said they’d been carefully selected and matched as the two smartest dogs in America, maybe in the world. When their exceptional puppies were born, Jake planned to have the best and brightest one trained as a guide dog for McKay’s blind daughter.
She grabbed her desk phone and made a call to San Diego. “Send Easton and Greene on a search and rescue mission. Don’t give me any excuses! Do it right now and report back in five minutes, or I’ll find someone else who can.”
Slamming the phone down, she cursed a blue streak, then took a deep breath and drank a gulp of cold, stale coffee.
“Dammit, Jake!”
* * *
Agent Greene nodded at her partner, Easton, and they ran across the deck of a Coast Guard cutter toward a waiting H-65 Dolphin. They both ducked under the spinning blades and climbed inside. The helo lifted off immediately.
As they flew over the coastline, Greene sent a text to McKay while the pilot conducted a search pattern, looking for the inflatable boat, or bodies in the water. A lit dashboard display showed two photos: one of a young man in his mid-to late twenties with dark wavy hair and devil-may-care eyes, the other of a golden dog who stared at the camera with intelligent brown eyes, one brow quirked up as if questioning why his picture was being taken.
Easton, a broad-shouldered man who rarely smiled or engaged in small talk, sat in the copilot’s seat and studied a screen featuring the feed from night vision cameras aimed below.
Greene sat behind Easton and next to the Coast Guard rescue swimmer. She ran a hand through her auburn hair and gazed out the window at the endless ocean. She’d protected Jake’s life once before and would do it again, but mostly she was concerned for Cody. She felt a strong affection for the dog. They shared some kind of bond she didn’t understand but loved and appreciated. Maybe Jake wasn’t so bad either.
“Circle around again,” she said.
The pilot nodded and banked the copter as he turned.
* * *
Jake sat with Cody in the powerless dinghy, his stomach in a knot as he experienced his worst fear; that his dog might be harmed.
The sharks returned, their taste for blood not yet satisfied, and resumed bumping into the sides of the boat.
Suddenly a shark leapt out of the water, bellying onto the dinghy gunwale and lunging at Jake with its mouth wide open.
Jake quickly leaned back in an attempt to keep the boat from flipping over and used both feet to kick the shark as hard as he could in its throat under the gaping mouth, deflecting the beast to the side. The animal slid off the boat and disappeared under the water’s surface.
Moments later, another shark copied the move and launched itself partway onto the boat with its jaws gaping. Jake pulled his feet away just in time to avoid the bone-crushing bite.
The dinghy bobbed and rocked and almost flipped over, but Jake shifted more of his weight backward and kicked the shark in the eye with the heel of his shoe.
The animal thrashed and fell back into the water with a splash, circling around for another try.
Cody barked frantically and pawed at Jake.
“Cody, lie down!” Jake drew his pistol with his right hand and held Cody down with his left.
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About Mark Nolan
Mark Nolan has spent much of his life near the seashore. He loves dogs and has often been called a “dog whisperer.” These interests are reflected in his novels where the main character lives on a boat with his highly intelligent former war dog.
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Twitter: @marknolan
Facebook: MarkNolanAuthor
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Thanks to Emma of #DampPebblesBlogTours and author Mark Nolan for a chance to share this excerpt from San Diego Dead.