By Brad Shaw and Peter D Campbell
Royal Marine Commando Jay Samson is ready to move on and enjoy the perks of living the easy life in civvy street, working in a surf shop on Bali in Indonesia. However, a terrorist bombing destroys the surf shop and Jay is quickly drawn to what he does best, landing a contract as a security consultant at an isolated pearl farm. Before long, Jay finds himself alone, unsupported and unarmed amongst ruthless killers and hostile locals in a dangerous game involving the mafia and corrupt policemen. Based on actual events, Stepping into the Unknown takes you into the reality of security contracting in one of the remotest places in the world.
Author Brad Shaw is contributing 50c to the Royal Marines Association and 50c to St John NZ for every book sold. Thank you for your support.
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“Start the engine!” I shouted, swinging myself into the vehicle. Tactical listening was over, it was time to crash move. Baz hit the gas and we spun back onto the road. Glancing to my right, I saw six headlights hurtling towards us.
*
“You’ve got rabies here, don’t you?” I asked Baz, trying to keep my voice conversational.
“Hmmm,” he responded softly. He didn’t look like he was scared but it was a thousand to one that he would have preferred to be somewhere else this precise moment. His eyes flicking from one set of bared teeth to another.
I slowly reached into my chest rig and pulled out my telescopic Asp and then in a quick motion whipped it out so it whizzed past the nose of the nearest mongrel that was eyeing me. It backed off with a growl and stared at me menacingly.
*
“Baz was right about one thing, if things kicked off, I was on my Jack Jones. No fire support – not even a sidearm. Well, if things kicked off, they’d soon regret it. With that satisfying thought, I headed to the shower and hit the sack.”
*
“Mr Jay, you are under arrest,” he pronounced in good but accented English.
“And who are you? The local fisherman?”
Shorty reached under his shirt and pulled an old battered revolver. He had my attention.
“I am police. I am arrest you after complaint about you here on farm,” his voice was a little shriller this time and he looked flustered at having his authority questioned, hardly surprising given he was wearing a dress.