Endangered Species: PART 1
ENDANGERED SPECIES
PART 1
A SLEEPING DOGS THRILLER
By:
John Wayne Falbey
Endangered Species is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 John Wayne Falbey.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, The Falbey Group LLC
ISBN: 978-0-9855187-4-5
Cover Design: Tatiana Vila
CAVEAT: This is Part 1 of a complete novel that consists of five parts. It is not the complete novel. The complete novel is available at various online sources including KOBO, Amazon, iBooks, Nook, and Smashwords.
—DEDICATION—
No man is an island...
—John Donne
The fifteenth century English poet nailed it. No one, no matter how independent-minded, is truly alone. Someone can be self-absorbed, or pride himself or herself on self-sufficiency, but there is a whole world out there constantly spinning around them. As an only child, I liked to believe in my completeness and independence from that world. But I was wrong. My world is full and rich, made more so by the presence of one very special person—Annie. She’s my Muse, my greatest source of encouragement, and the love of my life. Thanks, Sweetheart; this one’s for you.
ENDANGERED SPECIES
—PART ONE—
Table of Contents
For Those Who Came Late…
Cast of Characters
PART 1: Dog Bites Man
Chapter 1— Dingle, Ireland
Chapter 2—Albuquerque, New Mexico
Chapter 3— Dingle, Ireland
Chapter 4—Albuquerque, New Mexico
Chapter 5—Dingle, Ireland
Chapter 6—Tidewater Virginia
Chapter 7— Dingle, Ireland
Chapter 8—Albuquerque, New Mexico
Chapter 9—Naples, Florida
Chapter 10—Albuquerque, New Mexico
Chapter 11—The Kremlin, Moscow
Chapter 12—New York City
The Year of the Dog
A Note From The Author
Acknowledgements
For Those Who Came Late…
This is Part 1 of the second novel in the Sleeping Dogs series of political thrillers. The following is a brief summary of the action in the first book in the series, Sleeping Dogs: The Awakening—
The President of the United States has been targeted for assassination—by his own handlers. The killing must look as if the president’s political opposition is responsible. Desperate to prevent the crime and prevent the overwhelming outpouring of sympathy that will only further empower the real killers, the opposition turns to the only force that can stop it this late in the game—a mysterious hunter-killer team known only as the Sleeping Dogs. This blackest of black ops units was formed to carry out America’s wettest, most politically incorrect missions abroad. Eventually, a U.S. President, fearing discovery of the unit’s existence could spark an international crisis, ordered its members terminated with extreme prejudice. They escaped by faking their deaths in a plane crash, and went underground. Now, 20 years later, they are asked to leave the safety of their anonymity and risk their lives for their country one more time.
A seemingly unconnected car crash rapidly escalates into a series of plot twists and a rising body count involving Russian agents, crooked politicians, Ukrainian gangsters, a billionaire international arbitrageur, a secret society of patriots in the military and intelligence communities, the CIA, a doggedly determined FBI agent, and the six deadliest men on earth—the surviving Sleeping Dogs. The body count begins to soar from the first chapter, as Brendan Whelan and the other Dogs relentlessly pursue the would-be assassins and their handlers. As they do, they begin to uncover, layer by layer, a plot to bring America to her knees and impose a one-world government on the planet. The enemy is powerful, with access to unlimited funds and the ability to manipulate the rogue nations of the world. The one thing the enemy doesn’t have is the Sleeping Dogs.
Sleeping Dogs: The Awakening is a techno-political spy thriller. It combines relentless action, crisp dialogue, fully drawn characters, and thought provoking plot twists. Squarely on the same page with David Baldacci, Brad Thor, Lee Child and other best-selling thriller writers.
Endangered Species: A Sleeping Dogs Thriller
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Brendan Whelan – an innkeeper in Dingle, Ireland, and leader of the deadly hunter-killer special ops unit known as the Sleeping Dogs
Caitlin Whelan – Brendan’s wife and partner
Cliff Levell – former Marine and CIA operative now leader of the Society of Adam Smith (SAS), a shadow government attempting to counter the elected government’s destruction of American values and freedoms. He’s confined to a wheelchair because of injuries incurred in an automobile accident
Mitch Christie – an agent of the FBI pursuing Whelan and the other Dogs
Harland Fairchilde IV – a fourth generation scion of an über wealthy family and leader of the Alliance for Global Unity (AGU), a global organization of financiers and government officials seeking to impose a one-world structure on mankind
Maksym Kozak – a ruthless killer and genetic freak who works for the highest bidder
Kirill Federov – a former Spetsnaz (Russian special ops) colonel serving in the SVR, Russia’s external intelligence agency
The Sleeping Dogs (together with Brendan Whelan, the deadliest hunter-killer special ops unit in history; genetically evolved—Mother Nature’s beta models for humans in future generations):
Sven Larsen – the most physically powerful of the Dogs and closest to Whelan
Marc Kirkland – an esthete and master of martial arts fighting and weapons techniques
Nick Stensen – a loner and certifiably insane; he hunts down and kills criminals who have escaped the law
Quentin Thomas – a philosopher king; the best pure athlete of the Dogs and professor of Eastern philosophies
Rafe Almeida – genetically gifted like the other Dogs, but an inveterate substance abuser and skirt-chaser
Tom Murphy – Caitlin Whelan’s father and a former member of the UK’s SBS; currently An Garda Síochána (the Irish National Police force) District Superintendent for County Kerry, Ireland
Padraig (Paddy) Murphy – Caitlin’s brother and the Sergeant in Charge of the An Garda Síochána station in Dingle, Ireland
General Roscoe “Buster” McCoy – Marine Corps 2-Star General and head of Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command, or MARSOC
Maureen Delaney - chief executive of one of the largest and most successful technology companies on the planet, and Levell’s love interest
Rhee Kang-Dae – Levell’s personal assistant, driver, and bodyguard
The Mueller Brothers (Alfred, Hermann, and Tomas) – billionaire industrialists and patriots who fund SAS operations and provided leading edge technological support
Camila Ramirez – a sheriff’s deputy in Albuquerque, New Mexico and Mitch Christie’s lady friend
Lou Antonelli – an agent of the FBI and Mitch Christie’s coworker
Dr. William Nishioki – a geneticist who, with his late colleague Jacob Horowitz, discovered the advanced genetic makeup and helped Levell and McCoy recruit the Dogs; retired and living in coastal California
Gennady Vasilyev – Russ
ian general and head of SVR, Russia’s external intelligence agency
Prince Bandar bin Nayif al Saud - head of Saudi general intelligence
Prince Khalid bin Salmon al-Rahman - Saudi minister of finance
Nadir Shah – leader of the Holy Army of the Caliphate, a radical group establishing an Islamic state in the Middle East
Zheng Bao Xun - the minister of finance for the People’s Republic of China
Harold Case – retired CIA employee who uncovered the supposedly destroyed Agency file on the Sleeping Dogs while in the employ of Sen. Howard Morris
Chaim Laski – international arbitrageur and financial manager for a far-left organization seeking to destroy the USA from within
Senator Howard Morris – a powerful senator from New York and darling of the far-left causes. He has presidential aspirations
Shepard Jenkins – Morris’s chief campaign advisor
Aaron Rickover – a rookie agent at the FBI
Jim Franconia – the CIA’s liaison with the Federal Bureau of Investigation
Andrei Ulyanin – former Spetsnaz colleague of Federov’s, now working with him in Iraq
Princes and governments are far more dangerous than other elements within society.
- Niccolo Machiavelli
PART ONE: DOG BITES MAN
Chapter 1—Dingle, Ireland
Barring sleep disorders, most people’s sleep habits are distributed in the center of the bell curve. But there are outliers. Some of them can sleep through an earthquake or hurricane. Then there are those few who wake up at the sound of a fly landing on the wall—in the next room. Brendan Whelan was one of them.
Something woke him, but it wasn’t an insect. It was something common, yet out of the ordinary for the time of night and place, like a guitar riff in the middle of a trackless desert. He couldn’t quite place the sound, but he sensed danger. He kept his eyes closed and listened carefully, intently. He was gifted with an unusual genetic makeup that gave him unique physical abilities. That, and years of highly specialized military and survival training, made him appreciate the value of caution. It had been reinforced by years of living a lie, constantly glancing over his shoulder for the pursuit he knew would come someday.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly he slid his hand across the sheet and gently touched the warm, still form beside him. He could hear Caitlin breathing gently and steadily. He strained to hear sounds coming from the room their boys, Sean and Declan, shared. There was only silence and darkness. He opened one eye very slightly, just a sliver. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he slowly opened both of them. Nothing seemed amiss. He slid silently from beneath the covers and slipped out of bed.
The original part of the Fianna House Bed and Breakfast, or teach an Fianna in Gaelic, had been built in the late eighteenth century as a small farm bungalow on the outskirts of Dingle, Ireland. By the early part of the twentieth century, it gradually had been expanded into a three-story manor house. Before they were married, Whelan and Caitlin had acquired the property and developed it into a ten-bedroom, ten-bathroom inn with kitchen, dining room, library/sitting area, and a small office. Their third floor bedroom was part of the original structure. The wooden floor in that part of the house had been worn smooth over the decades. It felt cool on the bottoms of his bare feet. The old floor had spots where it creaked in complaint at human footsteps. Whelan found all those areas on his first night in the house and was careful now to avoid them.
It was mid-April and the temperatures in Dingle ranged from the mid-forties to the mid-fifties Fahrenheit, or from 6°C to 12°C. Whelan, who slept naked regardless of the temperature, grabbed a pair of well-worn denim cutoffs from the top of a chest that stood at the foot of the bed. He quickly and quietly slipped into them. He thought momentarily about reaching for the SIG SAUER P226 MK25 he kept in a special holster attached to the sideboard of the bed, but decided against it. It had been converted from the original 9mm to .40 caliber. With three family members and a guest in the house, that weapon would be too dangerous to use. An errant slug could rip through the walls and strike an innocent victim.
The Kel-Tek KSG shotgun would have been his weapon of choice. Its internal dual tube magazines each held six rounds of three-inch 12 gauge shells. The chamber held a thirteenth. He clenched his teeth in momentary frustration. He’d let his oldest son, Sean, practice field stripping it. It was still in the room Sean shared with his younger brother. Whelan was six feet two inches and two hundred twenty-five pounds with no measurable body fat. And he had those unique genetic gifts. Unless there were armed intruders in the house, a firearm would be overkill.
The Dingle peninsula, in Southwestern Ireland, juts out into the wild and stormy Atlantic. As a result, the area experiences a more difficult and unpredictable climate than almost any other location in Ireland. Whelan was grateful that this night was one of the rare calm moments. It made it easier for his ears to distinguish aberrant sounds. He paused in front of the closed double doors that opened into the hallway and listened intently. Somewhere in the house he heard something that didn’t belong. It sounded like a muffled cry. It was there for just a moment, and then it was gone.
He flattened himself against the left panel of the door and slowly cracked open the right panel. Nothing moved in the hallway. He heard only silence. Moving quietly, he eased the door open farther and slipped through it, closing it softly behind him. Somehow the gesture made him feel that Caitlin was more secure. Gliding silently along the hall dimly illuminated by nightlights, he reached the door to his sons’ room. It was open a crack. He hoped it was because one of the boys had gone to the bathroom and neglected to close it all the way on his return.
He glanced through the crack and neither saw nor heard anything out of the ordinary. Gently pushing the door open, he slipped into the room. Except for the two boys curled up in their respective beds, it was empty. As he was about to turn and leave, Sean sat up. Whelan quickly raised a finger to his lips cautioning silence. Sean looked at him for a moment then raised his hands palms up in the universal questioning gesture. Whelan pointed at each of the boys then at their beds, signaling that they were not to get up. Sean nodded his head.
Whelan stepped back into the hallway and continued noiselessly toward the staircase at its end. There were no guests staying in any of the other rooms on the top floor. Nonetheless, he checked each room before moving on. He descended the stairs quietly and carefully, still straining to hear something, anything, besides the normal sounds an old dwelling makes in the night. He thought he heard a bedspring squeak followed by what sounded like a shoe scraping against the wooden floor.
It was a slow time of year for tourists in Dingle. Only one guest room was occupied that evening. A retired spinster schoolteacher, Miss Elenora Tankersley from Sheffield, England, had been an annual visitor for several years, preferring to come during the off season when rates were at their lowest. She was an excellent guest, always prim and fastidious. She demanded the same room every year. Her days were spent strolling the surrounding countryside between the frequent rainstorms, or alone in her room editing her memoirs, which she intended to publish one day. Brendan and Caitlin Whelan wondered how such a solitary and introverted soul could have memoirs that would interest anyone. Although she was invited frequently to join the Whelan family for dinner, Miss Tankersley preferred to dine alone at one of the pubs she favored in Dingle. Following dinner, she would retire early. Tonight hadn’t been an exception.
Whelan paused at the bottom of the stairs. Miss Tankersley’s room was two doors down the hall and on the left. Her door was open, as were the other empty guestroom doors. That was an anomaly. A very shy and private person, she always kept the door closed when she was in her room. His adrenaline level began to climb. He moved swiftly to the first open door, crouched very low against the jamb and peered quickly into the room. Empty. He edged along the hallway to Miss Tankersley’s room and repeated the process.
This time he saw something. There we
re two men in the room. One was stretched across an inert body on the bed, Miss Tankersley’s. The man clearly was pinning her down. The other man was holding a pillow over the elderly woman’s face. Both men were large, but that wasn’t what stopped Whelan from rushing into the room. It was the Makarov PM 9mm suppressed pistol being brandished by the man pinning the victim’s body. Whelan silently cursed himself for deciding not to bring the Sig with him. He needed a plan, and quickly.
As his mind raced to connect the necessary dots, the man who was smothering Miss Tankersley slowly raised the pillow. He placed two fingers against her neck above the common carotid artery. After a moment, he glanced at his companion, smiled and nodded. The second man rose slowly from his victim’s lifeless form and spoke softly to his companion. Whelan recognized it as an Eastern European language and thought it might be Ukrainian, a language he had encountered in the recent past.
He quickly edged away from the doorframe and backed along the hall to the room nearest the stairs. Ducking into it, he flattened himself against the wall just inside the door. He could hear the two men as they exited the late Miss Tankersley’s room. They were coming down the hall toward him. They would have completed a search of the second floor and eliminated anyone there. It was Miss Tankersley’s misfortune to be on holiday at the wrong time. Whelan knew they would take the stairs to the third floor where his wife and sons were. He harbored no doubts about the men’s intentions.
As they walked past his hiding place, Whelan sprang out behind them. He grabbed each man by the nape of his neck with a grip so tight it all but paralyzed his victims. He smashed their heads together with bone-crushing force. Only a handful of individuals with similar genetics were capable of such power. Instantly unconscious, the men collapsed. Whelan cursed silently as the Makarov fell from one of the men’s hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. He pinned their bodies with a knee in each man’s chest, and wrapped a hand around each of their exposed throats. His fingers and thumbs closed around the pharyngeal muscles, aortae, trachea, and esophagus with such power they nearly met in front of the cervical vertebrae. He leaned forward from the waist then suddenly straightened and yanked his arms upward with all of his power. It ripped most of the anterior portion of each victim’s neck completely free of the body—a huge wolf dismembering lesser beings that threatened his mate and their pups.