Saturday Book Tease
Discover more from Michele’s Substack
Hello Readers!
Are you ready for a new Saturday book tease? This one is special. Why? Well, aside from being an incredible story, it is the 4th book in The Soldiers of PATCH-COM, and the one preceding the NEW RELEASE of book 5, C’est la Vie, Soldier, coming out Monday, August 28th!
So, if you haven’t yet caught up on all four current books in the series, now is the time to do so, and if you have, re-read book 4, Silent Night Soldier, because the series is all connected.
Now, let me introduce you to Sgt. Ben “Doc” Holiday…
Caught behind enemy lines!
WINNER "Top Pick" for Author Shout's Reader Ready Awards 2023
Army medic Ben “Doc” Holiday is sent on a mission inside the Russian Federation to aid PATCH-COM’s newest allied member, Israeli intelligence officer, Moses Zigman, as his home country seeks to locate one of their own and secret the opposition leader, Andrei Parkchenko, out of Russia for his own safety, and the political benefit of Israel.
Doctor Irina Petrovna lives her life helping others, including injured political protesters. When that help catches the eye of the FSB, they send in a captain desperate to redeem his standing within the ranks to warn her to fall in line. Ignoring that warning, Irina finds the price paid for her obstinance shockingly high, terrifying, and heartbreaking. When one of the captain’s men comes after her, she fears her time is up.
Unused to being without his team, Ben struggles with abiding by mission parameters of remaining under the radar. When a woman is attacked on their first night in Moscow, Ben defies Zigman and rushes into the fray to save her. Warned to leave no trace, Ben and Moses have now left behind a body in the frozen, silent night. Worse, they’ve also picked up a passenger, one who is being hunted by the FSB!
As soon as their eyes meet, Ben knows he cannot leave this woman behind. From the moment she ran out in front of their car, he chose her. On the run to find missing Mossad Agent Ari Solomon and the opposition leader, Ben and Moses discover that the same captain chasing Irina may also be the one who has Solomon, and perhaps Parkchenko as well. Following a lead, Ben gets his first look at the mysterious captain and is shocked by his all-too-familiar face!
Now caught behind enemy lines with a desperate murderer hot on their trail, Ben must help Moses complete the mission and somehow, save the beautiful doctor with the big gray-blue eyes from falling into the FSB’s clutches, and a fate worse than death!
Chapter One
It was -1 °C when Ben ‘Doc’ Holiday and Captain Moses Zigman, an Israeli Army Intelligence officer and a probationary member of PATCH-COM, stepped onto the frozen tarmac in Kiev. They were the last to deplane behind the American Diplomatic Corps representatives, their official cover for coming into Ukraine. Having false identities and diplomatic immunity from close scrutiny by customs was an invaluable asset. That, and the diplomatic pouch seals on their duffel bags and carry kits would keep the eyes of the curious out of their business and conceal the weapons and paraphernalia they’d brought along on his mission.
Ben hefted the duffel bag over his shoulder and waited as two limos pulled up. The four official members of the corps climbed inside the first car. A member of the flight crew loaded their luggage in the trunk while a customs agent looked on seemingly eager to get it all over with. He and Moses flashed the diplomatic seals on their bags before quickly getting into the second limo, grateful for the warm interior.
“Fuck, it’s cold here,” Ben muttered, blowing hot air into his gloved hands. Slowly, the heat inside the vehicle began to take some of the frost off his cheeks.
Beside him, Moses grunted agreement and rubbed his leg.
“One day I will retire somewhere tropical,” he said. “All I need is a shack on the beach, a bed, a chair, and a refrigerator to keep my beer cold. That’s the only cold I ever want to experience again.”
Ben grinned. “Amen to that.”
Conscious of the driver listening, both men fell silent as the cars made their way out of the airport, merging into late afternoon traffic. He glanced sideways at Moses. The man’s face remained stoic as always, but Ben had come to know the subtle signs that revealed his level of pain. The damage to Zigman’s leg and arm had been severe, and his recovery, although on schedule, was still in the early stages. In his own humble opinion, Ben didn’t think Moses was up to missions of this magnitude yet. That his superior in the Israeli army, knowing this, still sent him on this wild, wintry goose chase instead of enlisting a more able-bodied soldier told Ben that Zigman’s higher up was a real cold-hearted asshole. But what was new about that? Different country, same bullshit.
His job was to help Moses in whatever capacity was needed, even if that meant carrying him back to safety. Since the man outweighed him, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. They were instructed to check in and then wait to be contacted by their guide, a sleeper agent inside Kiev who would then take them on to their next stop, the Port of Mariupol on the northern side of the sea of Azov. After that, they would be on their own.
The mission had two driving parameters. Locate Andrei Parkchenko, the Russian opposition leader, and if he is still alive get him out of Russia, and then discover what happened to Mossad Agent Ari Solomon. With the civil unrest happening inside Moscow and around Russia, neither was going to be easy. The Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation, known as the FSB, had eyes and ears everywhere. The successor to the USSR’s KGB was nothing to mess around with and having an American special forces field medic and an Israeli Intelligence Officer in their midst would stir up problems fast if they were discovered.
Zigman spoke Russian as well as German in addition to English, Hebrew, and Arabic. That alone earned Ben’s respect. His own command of Russian was extremely limited and only recently learned when he came aboard PATCH-COM. Moses Zigman would do all the talking. Ben’s job was to assist him in whatever capacity he needed. He had a terrible feeling he’d be doing all the heavy lifting. He just hoped they accomplished what they came to do so he could get back home to his friends and his sister. He was worried about her. Not that she needed him to worry about her, but old habits were hard to break. With their parents gone, he was her only family, and she was his. Her happiness was all that mattered, and he didn’t want Jess to get hurt by some cocky, questionable jackass in uniform, no matter how decorated he was for valor in the field. Oh, yes. He’d looked Senior Chief Torres, aka Griz up. Just the thought of the man made his blood pressure spike.
Ben noticed the way Griz looked at Jessica in that ridiculous ballet class. Ridgeway and Hicks had been eyeing her too, but it was easier to intimidate them. They were younger, and he knew he didn’t need to worry about the British baby-faced pilot or Jackson. Jackson was not only his teammate, but his friend as well. He knew the bro rules. But Griz was another story. Ben remembered the first time the team met him Playa del Carmen. The man’s audacity, his backhanded insults directed at Matt, Mac, and Moreno, had rubbed him the wrong way from jump. He didn’t like the guy, and he damned sure wasn’t good enough for Jess.
He’d tasked Mac and Harry with keeping an eye on her but hadn’t included Montcourt in the group. He probably should have. Especially since he was in the room when he ordered Griz to stay away from Jess. He felt reasonably sure the Frenchman wouldn’t go after Jessica. Ben saw the way he mooned over Moreno. At first, they were all angered by it, but over the last many months, it had become kind of amusing. Especially since Moreno herself had begun to mellow out about it. In the early days, they’d taken bets as to when she would clock Lucien for his constant teasing. Nasty wasn’t the kind of woman a man could harass and get away with it. To their amazement, it never happened, and they’d all lost money on it to Harry. He was the only one who laid a bet that Moreno wouldn’t kill him. How he seemed to know this, no one knew, but Ben had a sneaking suspicion Joely Winter, Harry’s wife, might’ve weighed in on the betting pool giving Harry the advantage of the female perspective.
All that aside, he knew that whoever Jess decided to date was up to her. He just prayed she wouldn’t fall for Griz. Killing his sister’s date would make holiday dinners damned awkward.
“We’re here.” Zigman’s words interrupted Ben’s reverie.
The car pulled to the front of an austere building with a small, Hunter green canopy hanging over a set of dark wood double doors. It was ten stories with rows of windows covered midway with what could only be described as Juliet balconies without a lick of style. A guest could open their window but not actually step out. The view from the front-facing rooms was nothing but a busy street, a concrete and steel jungle.
“Lovely,” Ben muttered. The Ambassador Hotel did not live up to its name.
The men got out stepping onto the sidewalk. The diplomatic corps members were already going inside. Ben and Moses followed. The interior was, at least, warm, although nothing to write home about. The dark wood paneled walls of the lobby and check-in desk were accented by more Hunter green and gold upholstered benches along one wall. The elevators were to the right and when one opened, Ben noticed it had an old-fashioned retractable gate and was actually operated by a lift attendant. He felt like he’d stepped back in time a good eighty years.
They were the last to get checked in and handed a keycard to room 510. The two men stood back waiting for the next elevator as the door closed on the first one carrying the diplomats up. None of them paid him and Moses any mind. They been instructed to mostly ignore their presence unless asked directly. Then the only answer they could give was that they handled security for the team. Not true, of course. Their security was among their ranks already, but no one needed to know.
The bell dinged and the door opened. A gentleman in a dark green uniform and hat reminiscent of vintage films from eastern Europe greeted them. He pulled open the gate and he and Moses stepped into the car. It was a tight fit.
“Kii poverkh?” Which floor, the man asked.
“П'yati poverkh, bud laska,” Moses replied, immediately locking in the local language and instructing the man they were going to the fifth floor.
Ben eyed Moses but stayed quiet on the ride up. The lift attendant was an older man, perhaps in his fifties, with gray hair and a bit of a paunch protruding around his midsection. He looked out of place in the green jacket with gold epaulettes on the shoulders. A retiree’s job, he figured. Still, he speculated that the man had worked more of his life doing manual labor if his hands were any indication. They were big hands with thick fingers and visible callouses. One didn’t acquire rough hands operating a lift.
The bell dinged and the overhead display showed they arrived at the fifth floor. The attendant opened the gate and waited as they got out. As soon as they cleared the doors, he closed the gate once again as the outer doors shut.
Moses looked at the hall signs. “This way,” he said, turning left.
Ben followed noting they were heading toward the backside of the hotel. They located room 510 at the back corner. A good spot, and conveniently near an emergency exit. Moses inserted the keycard and the light blinked green. He pushed the door open, and the men entered the room.
Ben looked around. There were two single beds separated by a nightstand. The walls had dark wood wainscotting with dark green and white striped wallpaper above reaching the ceiling. A desk sat in one corner and there was a small three-piece bathroom with white subway tiles and green and gray marbled floor tiles. The only window out faced a greenspace with tall trees covered in snow and ice. It was better than the concrete jungle out front. Not that it mattered. They wouldn’t be here long.
Ben set his bags down on the small bed. “Did I hear you speaking Ukrainian in the elevator?”
Moses dropped his bags on the floor next to his bed and sat down. He rubbed his leg and nodded. “It’s similar to Russian.”
Shaking his head, Ben smiled. “Is there any language you don’t speak?”
“Yes. Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Cantonese, Mandarin…”
“Okay, okay. Just saying I’m impressed.”
A small smile tugged at Moses’ lips. “Just part of the job,” he said.
“Not my job. Until recently, it wasn’t required.” Ben sat down and leaned back against the headboard, jet lag creeping into his bones.
“You’ve never worked in intelligence before,” said Moses. Zigman rubbed a hand over his face and stood heading for the bathroom.
“True.” Ben’s eyes drifted closed.
“I’m gonna get cleaned up and then rest. You should too. We don’t know when our contact will arrive. We need to be ready.”
“Want me to order something to eat?”
“Sure. Whatever they got. Doesn’t matter.” Moses closed the bathroom door.
Ben sighed. He didn’t want to move, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He would rest soon. Just not yet. Reaching out, he grabbed the phone on the nightstand and dialed 0 hoping someone would connect him to the kitchen…and understand English.
Continue reading Silent Night Soldier. Download now.
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