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Look for a new READ 2024!

Look for a new READ 2024! Look for a new READ 2024!

New Release

Droned

Sean James is a wanted man. In this military action thriller, he's is a witness to the highest of crimes: murder. When the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff orders an execution, Sean is supposed to die too. But when the veteran Navy SEAL survives the attack, the United States government wants him dead. Tracked by a CIA assassin and by the most advanced drones on the planet, Sean is hunted through the Appalachian wilderness. Unarmed and outnumbered, the SEAL commander of retirement age, developing an unlikely ally with an NSA spy, must use every skill he's learned to survive the onslaught and avoid being droned. Sean is running for his life. The flash drive around his neck may prove his innocence and restore his honor, if he survives.



Amazon Reviews


"Action-packed, adventure filled book that will have you not wanting to put it down."


"An excellent book, end-to-end, there is a nice balance of character development, scenery, plot development, and discussion of existing and speculative military tech. Clearly the author did his homework and has a knack for storytelling. If you like military action books, you'll love this! I'm looing forward to book number 2 from this author."


"Read the entire book in one sitting!  Attention to detail is not always synonymous with fast paced thriller but Shipton manages to do both in this tightly crafted novel. Highly recommend adding this to your quarantine reading list" 

Find out more

  A sample . . . 


CHAPTER 10


THE PENTAGON


THERE WERE NO windows in the office of the

Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff at the

Pentagon. Following 9/11 attacks, a corner office no

longer provided the security required for military

top brass.

Peter Lloyd had been subject to no fewer than

seven security checkpoints to sit in the ornate

suite where he now awaited the Chairman’s arrival.

The Chairman’s office was actually two offices

connected by sliding French doors, and Peter

waited in a spacious rounded foyer beside an

administrative assistant who was busy typing.

Plaques and photos adorned the circular space

and fake ferns guarded both sides of the door. A

beeping sound caused his administrative assistant

to pick up her landline phone.

“Yes sir.” She hung up.

“Chairman Mace has arrived and will be joining

you shortly, Mr. Lloyd.”

“Thank you.”

Back to her typing, the classy middle-aged

brunette reminded Peter of a secretary from an

era gone by. Dutiful, quiet, and professional; Peter

had no such person in his world. As a freelance

contractor, Fox Hunter kept his own calendar,

answered his own phone, and arranged his own

meetings. Peter smiled to himself when he realized

that he probably tripled what the Chairman

makes in a year, so maybe he didn’t need an

administrative assistant after all.

As the office door opened, both Peter and the

administrative assistant stood. The Chairman was

a big man, slick black hair, broad-shouldered, and

in full uniform. Piercing smart eyes, he gave a firm

handshake. And as he took off his hat, he spoke in

a low voice.


“Peter Lloyd. Good to meet you in person.”

Mace smiled.

“Chairman, the pleasure is mine.”

“Let’s talk, shall we?” The big man opened the

heavy smoked-glass French doors.

Peter walked into the second office where a

cherry desk as big as a tank sat in the room’s center

atop a blue paisley rug. Marble surrounded a faux

fireplace behind the desk, its mantle filled with

military honors.

Peter was trained to spot personal weakness

in friends and adversaries alike. Ascertaining their

kryptonite, he used that toxic cloud to create future

storms. As he glanced at the Chairman, reading

the room, his brain churned out exploits, ways to

buy leverage in this virgin relationship. Did this

military behemoth, the Chairman, harbor an

underbelly? Even Goliath had a soft spot.

“Have a seat, Peter.” The Chairman pulled on a

shiny chair, plush leather over a sturdy frame. The

big man emptied an ashtray and cut a new cigar

while Peter surveyed the place. This man exuded

power. And this office building, the largest in the

world, was surely designed to convey might; it

fulfilled that purpose.


Peter was a quick read of people, and with

scarcely a word said he knew he was in the office

of the most powerful man in the United States

military. Moving like a stud bull, the Chairman

trudged robotic around the space, expressionless.

He emanated power like a coal stove, and Peter

wanted to warm himself next to that stove.

This meeting could secure his retirement and

pay for the Berwick restoration if he played his

cards right. Uncharted territory now took the Fox

Hunter to the pinnacle of his career. This was his

power play, the king’s court; a meeting with the

Chairman represented the culmination of decade’s

worth of hard-knuckled networking. Peter deserved

this meeting, an honor he’d earned in the blood of

men now silent.


Peter looked at the Chairman the way two

powerful men do, sizing each other up, but

somehow, he felt smaller. I hope he doesn’t notice

my neck, Peter thought, painfully tightening tense

muscles, he straightened his neck as best he could.

Mace sat down, licked a cigar but didn’t light it.

“What can I do for you, sir?” Peter asked.

“You read the brief?”

“Yes sir. This is an operation in Afghanistan?”

“I’ve arranged for the death of Kip Jeffries,

marine, son of Senator Jeff Jeffries. Friendly fire

happens all the time.” The Chairman coughed and

shifted in his seat.

Peter tried hard not to blink. “Operation Wicked

Wind?”

“Yes. Bombing run, Paragon Valley near the

Chinese border. Tonight,” Lee Mace said looking at

Peter directly. “I’ll need you there.”


“I don’t follow?” Peter was confused.

“Truck convoy, the one carrying Kip Jeffries,

will be eliminated.” He smiled and licked his cigar.

“What about the other American troops?”

“Collateral damage,” Chairman replied, as if

he’d done this before. “The USS Ford is in the

Arabian Sea now and will execute Wicked Wind. A

scout team of Navy SEALs will be in the valley.

They’ll be bombed to shit too.”

“I see.” Peter said, dumfounded at the depth of

unfolding secrecy. Peter found himself in unfamiliar

territory: nervous. “How does this involve

me, sir?”

“I need an intelligence man, the Fox Hunter.”

Mace laughed.

“Who else knows of this operation?”

“Matthew Hastings is the ship’s skipper. He’s

running point, but Hastings is a simple man.”

He dangled the cigar from his lips and continued.

“There’re are so many moving parts here. People

are going to die, then there’s press coverage,

witnesses, and then we need to bury it, deep.

You handle this, these black contracts. And I

need someone who understands the intricacy,

the subtlety involved.”


“Yes sir.” Peter said, crossing his legs. “You

want me to spearhead Wicked Wind?”

“Yes.” The big man leaned over the great desk

and spoke to Peter in a forced whisper.

“Ten million dollars. That’s my offer.”

Peter blinked, involuntarily. But he didn’t

respond and let the Chairman finish.

“I need the Fox Hunter. Start to finish.” Mace

paused, flicked a lighter, and puffed hard, the

smoke engulfing Peter. He continued. “You take

complete control of this mission, bury what needs

buried, silence loose ends.”

“Can you get me aboard that aircraft carrier?”

Peter asked.

“Plane is waiting for you.”























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