Hellfire, p.1
Hellfire, page 1
Praise for JOHN GILSTRAP and his thrillers
TOTAL MAYHEM
“Propulsive... Not everyone survives the final confrontation, but series fans can rest assured that Grave will fight again. Straightforward plotting, amped-up action, and amusing banter keep the pages turning.”
—Publishers Weekly
SCORPION STRIKE
“Relentlessly paced as well as brilliantly told and constructed, this is as good as thrillers get.”
—The Providence Journal
“A sizzling beach read for military action fans... the perfect summer read for thriller fans.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“The series deserves attention from anyone who enjoys plot-driven thrillers.... Grave is, as always, a solid series lead.”
—Booklist
“This Jonathan Grave installment is pure John Gilstrap... on steroids!”
—BookReporter.com
“Grave, Boxers, and the rest of the gang are all back in Scorpion Strike, another action-packed thriller from John Gilstrap that’ll have readers on the edges of their seats.”
—The Real Book Spy
FINAL TARGET
“Fast-paced and well-plotted.”
—Booklist
“Exciting. . . . Fans of epic adventure stories will find plenty to like.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A superbly crafted thriller that will leave you craving more! Final Target is a nonstop, action-packed thrill ride.”
—Top Shelf
“Fans of Jeffery Deaver and Harlan Coben will find lots to love in the novel’s action, suspense, political intrigue, twists, and deceptions.”
—Woman Around Town
FRIENDLY FIRE
“If you only read one book this summer, make sure it’s Friendly Fire, and be ready to be strapped in for the ride of your life.”
—Suspense Magazine
“A blistering thriller that grabs your attention and doesn’t let go for a second!”
—The Real Book Spy
NICK OF TIME
“A page-turning thriller with strong characters, exciting action, and a big heart.”
—Heather Graham
AGAINST ALL ENEMIES
WINNER OF THE INTERNATIONAL THRILLER WRITERS AWARD FOR BEST PAPERBACK ORIGINAL
“Any John Gilstrap novel packs the punch of a rocket-propelled grenade—on steroids! Gilstrap grabs the reader’s attention in a literary vise grip. A damn good read.”
—BookReporter.com
“Tense, clever.... Series enthusiasts are bound to enjoy this new thriller.”
—Library Journal
END GAME
AN AMAZON EDITORS’ FAVORITE BOOK OF THE YEAR “Gilstrap’s new Jonathan Grave thriller is his best novel to date—even considering his enviable bibliography. End Game starts off explosively and keeps on rolling.”
—Joe Hartlaub, BookReporter.com
DAMAGE CONTROL
“Powerful and explosive, an unforgettable journey into the dark side of the human soul. Gilstrap is a master of action and drama. If you like Vince Flynn and Brad Thor, you’ll love John Gilstrap.”
—Gayle Lynds
“Rousing.... Readers will anxiously await the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
DAMAGE CONTROL
“It’s easy to see why John Gilstrap is the go-to guy among thriller writers when it comes to weapons, ammunition, and explosives. His expertise is uncontested.”
—John Ramsey Miller
“A page-turning, near-perfect thriller, with engaging and believable characters... unputdownable!”
—Top Mystery Novels
“Takes you full force right away and doesn’t let go. The action is nonstop. Gilstrap knows his technology and weaponry. Damage Control will blow you away.”
—Suspense Magazine
THREAT WARNING
“Threat Warning is a character-driven work where the vehicle has four on the floor and horsepower to burn. From beginning to end, it is dripping with excitement.”
—Joe Hartlaub, Bookreporter
HOSTAGE ZERO
“Jonathan Grave, my favorite freelance peacemaker, problem-solver, and tough-guy hero, is back—and in particularly fine form. Hostage Zero is classic Gilstrap: the people are utterly real, the action’s foot to the floor, and the writing’s fluid as a well-oiled machine gun. A tour de force!”
—Jeffery Deaver
“Threat Warning reconfirms Gilstrap as a master of jaw-dropping action and heart-squeezing suspense.”
—Austin Camacho, The Big Thrill
“This addictively readable thriller marries a breakneck pace to a complex, multilayered plot.... A roller coaster ride of adrenaline-inducing plot twists leads to a riveting and highly satisfying conclusion. Exceptional characterization and an intricate, flawlessly crafted story line make this an absolute must read for thriller fans.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
NO MERCY
“No Mercy grabs hold of you on page one and doesn’t let go. Gilstrap’s new series is terrific. It will leave you breathless. I can’t wait to see what Jonathan Grave is up to next.”
—Harlan Coben
“John Gilstrap is one of the finest thriller writers on the planet. No Mercy showcases his work at its finest—taut, action-packed, and impossible to put down!”
—Tess Gerritsen
“A great hero, a pulse-pounding story—and the launch of a really exciting series.”
—Joseph Finder
“An entertaining, fast-paced tale of violence and revenge.”
—Publishers Weekly
“No other writer is better able to combine in a single novel both rocket-paced suspense and heartfelt looks at family and the human spirit. And what a pleasure to meet Jonathan Grave, a hero for our time... and for all time.”
—Jeffery Deaver
AT ALL COSTS
“Gilstrap builds tension... until the last page, a hallmark of great thriller writers. I almost called the paramedics before I finished At All Costs.”
—Tulsa World
“Gilstrap has ingeniously twisted his simple premise six ways from Sunday.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Not-to-be-missed.”
—Rocky Mountain News
NATHAN’S RUN
“Gilstrap pushes every thriller button... a nail-biting denouement and strong characters.”
—San Francisco Chronicle
“Gilstrap has a shot at being the next John Grisham . . . one of the best books of the year.”
—Rocky Mountain News
“Emotionally charged... one of the year’s best.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Brilliantly calculated.... With the skill of a veteran pulp master, Gilstrap weaves a yarn that demands to be read in one sitting.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Like a roller coaster, the story races along on well-oiled wheels to an undeniably pulse-pounding conclusion.”
—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
ALSO BY JOHN GILSTRAP
Total Mayhem
Scorpion Strike
Final Target
Nick of Time
Friendly Fire
Against All Enemies
End Game
Soft Targets
High Treason
Damage Control
Threat Warning
Hostage Zero
No Mercy
Six Minutes to Freedom (with Kurt Muse)
Scott Free
Even Steven
At All Costs
Nathan’s Run
JOHN GILSTRAP
HELLFIRE
A Jonathan Grave Thriller
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Praise
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Teaser chapter
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PINNACLE BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2020 John Gilstrap, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7860-4552-5
Electronic edition:
ISBN-13: 978-0-7860-4553-2 (e-book)
ISBN-10: 0-7860-4553-1 (e-book)
To Joy, my best friend
and my bride of thirty-five years.
Chapter One
Ryder Kendall had heard every word spoken from the front seat. They thought he was asleep, and like every other adult, they believed that just because a kid’s eyes were closed late at night, he’d been struck deaf. He should be so lucky. He hadn’t slept more than a few minutes in the past three days. Not since the FBI crashed their house and tore his world apart.
Now, everything was ruined. He and his brother, Geoff, were being driven to some kind of orphanage by a lady driver, who he figured had to be a cop, and a priest named Father Tim. Both were nice enough to their faces, but the quiet conversations revealed their true thoughts. They pitied him and his brother. They felt sorry for them.
When the lady driver wondered how the boys would ever get past this kind of trauma, Father Tim shushed her, said that such things ought not be discussed within earshot. As if Ryder hadn’t already wondered a thousand times how much his life was going to suck from now on.
Dad had warned him that that trouble was coming. Ryder didn’t understand the details, but he wasn’t completely surprised when the cops kicked in their door. Okay, he was terrified when the SWAT team pulled him out of bed and onto the floor at three in the morning. And the handcuffs hurt. But only for ten or fifteen minutes, until they figured that a thirteen-year-old and his eleven-year-old brother didn’t pose any real hazard. After that, the cops let him get dressed, but not without a lady cop with a rifle watching the whole time. She seemed as uncomfortable as he did. After that, they walked him and Geoff straight out to a car that whisked them off to a stranger’s house.
He never got a chance to say goodbye to his parents.
Mom and Dad weren’t specific about why they’d done the things that got them sideways with the FBI—those were the words Dad used, got sideways—but Ryder was smart enough to know that pissing off the FBI was a big deal. That meant that his parents had committed a federal crime, not a state crime. Everybody knew that federal crimes were the worst.
And man, oh man, were there a lot of FBI windbreakers among the cops that invaded his house.
“You’re going to hear a lot of bad things about me and your mom,” Dad had told him just hours before the invasion. “I wish I could tell you that they’ll be false, but they’re not. I’ve done bad things.”
“I don’t understand,” Ryder had said. “What did you do?”
“You don’t want to know the details,” Mom had said.
Ryder had taken that as his cue to shut up. Questions never changed bad news, they only slowed it down.
Dad had continued, “Of course, when this happens, it will have a huge effect on you and your brother.” He’d said it as if they were planning a family trip. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Sorry? Ryder thought. What happens to Geoff and me?
It turned out that the answer came in several parts. Part one: You get shipped to a house of well-meaning but deeply weird people who smelled like hot dogs and old socks and the family stared at you all the time. Then you get shipped to another place, where they punted Ryder and Geoff to the cop lady and the priest.
And now they were on their way to an orphanage called Resurrection House, even though he and Geoff weren’t exactly orphans.
They were only half-orphans.
Tears pressed behind his eyes as he remembered the sound of his dad rushing out of his bedroom after the cops crashed through the front door. The sound of the gunshots. The stillness of Dad’s body as he lay there in the hall. The redness of the blood in the carpet.
Ryder had no idea what this Resurrection House thing was all about, but for now, he figured that the Resurrection place had to be better than that first douchebag house.
Ryder had always possessed an uncanny ability to read people. Not their minds—not like one of the Legilimens from the Harry Potter stories—but he was great at reading their intentions, their state of ease. It was like what they called stranger danger in school and what Dad used to call situational awareness at home. Right now, Ryder knew that the grownups in the car were upset about something. They leaned close to each other and talked quietly.
The driver lady kept glancing up into the rearview mirror, as if she saw something that made her nervous. She had spiky white hair, but not the kind of white that comes with age. In the mirror, lit up by the lights of the car behind them, the brown eyes that had looked so friendly before now looked wrinkled and scared.
Ryder eased his seatbelt open and rose from his captain’s chair to turn around and look out the back window. The one other car on the road was driving way too close, the way Mom would drive when she was getting ready to pass.
“Please get back in your seat,” Father Tim said. He was completely different from what Ryder expected a priest to be. He seemed too young, and he smiled more than church people normally did.
“Are they trying to pass us?” Ryder asked.
The lady driver—her name was Pam—said, “If they were, they’ve had plenty of time to do it.”
The priest repeated, “Ryder, I really want you in your seat.”
Ryder opened his mouth to argue, but he decided to comply, instead. This didn’t feel right to him.
He’d just turned to face front when the follow car’s high beams lit up the back window and blue strobe lights painted wild shadows all over their van’s interior.
Geoff jumped awake in the captain’s chair to Ryder’s right. “What’s happening?”
“Shut up,” Ryder snapped. He didn’t want to be mean, but if little dickhead was talking, he wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said up front.
“I don’t like this,” Pam said. “I’m not doing anything wrong. There’s no legit reason for us to be pulled over.”
“Well, we can’t just ignore them,” Father Tim said.
The cop behind them popped his siren, as if to cast his vote on what they should do.
Pam pushed the button on the dash to turn on the hazard flashers. “I’m slowing down to thirty-five,” she said. “Call nine-one-one to see—”
“Tell me what’s happening!” Geoff insisted, blocking out the rest of Pam’s command.
Ryder would have been happy to call 911 for them, but the FBI had taken their phones. And their computers. Hell, they’d taken everything. He and Geoff weren’t allowed to take anything with them but underwear, clothes, shoes, and a jacket.
As the van navigated a curve, another wall of blue lights erupted out front. Another police car, parked at an angle across the road.
