Patriot Acts, Vol. 2 A Fisher Harrison Saga.
by Steven Clark Bradley
What would America do if we were faced with a horrendous terrorist attack that no amount of security could stop? In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001. This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans. This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.
ISBN # 978-1-59431-790-3 Thriller / Action Adventure / Espionage
Also available in RTF and HTML formats.
Falls Church, Virginia.
March 7, 2011, 6:32 a.m.
Hidden alone in the darkness, Fisher Harrison pulled a black knit cap over his face, dug his combat boots firmly into the soft soil, and watched and waited. “Killing’s just like riding a bike,” he told himself.
He adjusted the night lenses to his eyes and scanned the sprawling field that lay in front of him protected by razor wire fences and spotlights, and so much more below, and he listened. No sound, absolutely no movement. “They touched what’s mine, not simply stealing their pound of flesh. They wanted the whole beast, the whole enchilada,” he whispered, as he raised his eyes when the searchlight began to illuminate the perimeter. “Damn. For once, I’m making more noise than the ones I’m hunting. Desk job’s got the best of me.”
Inside his head, he screamed, “They kidnapped my woman and my son.” The sound of his mental voice almost deafened him, though no one else had heard it. The images of his wife, Margaret, and little Nathan, locked up in some dark and dingy hideout scared even terrified him.
His stomach felt like he’d been lunged at by a madman—the killer’s blade sliced him open wide with fear and anger and all consuming misery. Fisher lowered the night lenses, fell backward, and stared straight up at the stars.
“I don’t care if they kill me. I’ve never had a problem with that. But being killed also kills Margaret and little Nathan, too.”
The revolving light continued to search his area. His mind raced and his heart pounded, as he remained still. Memories of so many dead and a wave of sorrow filled his heart as the sound of shots and screams rang through his mind. Then, an image of a man who was like a brother to him being hurled backwards to the ground with a hole in his chest made Fisher cringe. His mind flooded with the horror and forced enough adrenaline to course through his system that it made his pounding chest almost audible.
“They call me a radical? How could this all happen? All the deaths, the insurrection, the betrayal, it makes me sad, breaks my heart. And on top of all that, they touched the really precious ones, and I won’t let what they started take Margaret and Nate down. They’ve never seen a really pissed radical with power until I get a hold of them.”
Fisher Harrison lay still as the night under a field of stars, opened his eyes and knew that he was right where he needed to be. “I’ll take no captives tonight. There’ll be plenty of time for killing those bastards later…”