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Detective Boone Drake has just masterminded the most massive sting in Chicago history, bringing down the heads of not only the biggest street gangs in the city but also the old crime syndicate. The story is the biggest in decades, and the Chicago Police Department must protect the key witness at all costs. Despite top-secret plans to transfer the witness ahead of his testimony before the grand jury, an attempt is made on his life. And the person suspected of leaking this information may be one of the CPD’s own. ...
Detective Boone Drake has just masterminded the most massive sting in Chicago history, bringing down the heads of not only the biggest street gangs in the city but also the old crime syndicate. The story is the biggest in decades, and the Chicago Police Department must protect the key witness at all costs. Despite top-secret plans to transfer the witness ahead of his testimony before the grand jury, an attempt is made on his life. And the person suspected of leaking this information may be one of the CPD’s own. Tyndale House Publishers
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 2
Boone Drake awoke before sunup with little recollection of the previous two days.
Oh, he knew the basics—where he was, that he was fortunate to be alive. Two uniformed officers still guarded his door. The noises and odors invaded his room at what everyone still called Cook County Hospital. And slowly, it all began to come back.
Boone, a detective in the Gang Enforcement Section of the Chicago Police Department, had masterminded the most massive sting in CPD history, bringing down the heads of not only the biggest street gangs in the city but also the Outfit—the old crime syndicate.
Key to the operation had been the secret spiritual conversion of gang kingpin Pascual Candelario—and his becoming an informant.
Candelario had been processed at central booking, then spirited to a secure location until he was due to testify before the grand jury. The story became the biggest in Chicago in decades, and the priority of the CPD became to protect Pascual at all costs until he was transferred to begin his testimony.
Two nights before, Boone and four undercover cops had ushered PC out and made their way to an unmarked van. As the group passed a security guard, Boone glanced back to find the man in full crouch, reaching behind his back. Boone had bellowed, "Gun!" and moved between the shooter and Candelario.
The man produced a .45 caliber Glock and squeezed off one deafening round from fifteen feet away. The slug hammered into Boone just below his left clavicle and knocked him to the floor. He felt his left lung collapse.
Two officers emptied their service revolvers into the man while the other two hustled Pascual into the van. Boone lay there knowing Pascual was safe and that every Chicago cop in the vicinity would respond to an officer-down call.
Boone had felt himself go woozy and fought to remain conscious. "Suicide shooter?" he rasped. "Had to be an inside job."
And he felt himself drifting, drifting. An injection. Floating. Then roughly slid into the back of an ambulance for the trip to John H. Stroger Jr. Hospital. Being bathed for an operation, anesthetic drip, the sweet relief of unconsciousness.
Boone had awakened midmorning the next day, screaming pain in the shoulder, exhausted, achy all over, his mouth cottony. His former partner and now boss, Jack Keller, leaned close. "You got questions?"
"We got a traitor?"
Jack whispered, "That or a real smart gangbanger."
Boone had had another miserable night, and not only because of the constant interruptions to check his vitals. He had been nearly shot dead, and to the best of his recollection he was on heavy doses of Percocet and OxyContin, not to mention a morphine drip. Maybe that's why the activity in his private room the day before now ran together in his mind, a jumble of incomprehensible images—including one he would never forget.
Boone had so looked forward to seeing Pastor Francisco Sosa, but now he could dredge not one memory of his visit. He had intended to tell Sosa something—something about him and Haeley. Their first kiss. The prospect of a second gave him something else to look forward to.
Today's dawn brought a male nurse who seemed terminally cheerful and insisted on turning on the local news. "I wouldn't normally do this," the man said, "but Indian summer doesn't often hit us in February, does it?"
Boone squinted at the TV. A few minutes after sunrise the temperature was already pushing fifty, with the possibility of sixty by midafternoon. And of all things, not snow but rain. Thundershowers.
Would anything in Boone's life be normal ever again?
"Don't get too comfortable," the nurse said, opening the drapes. "After breakfast a physical therapist will get you up and walking."
"I'm high," Boone slurred. "Remind me what comfortable means."
"After that your surgeon should visit, but I don't even try to predict timing for those guys. You wanna go potty before all the fun begins?"
"I do, but do we really have to call it that?"
The nurse laughed. "Just trying to be delicate, Detective. You know you're on the front page of the Trib this morning?"
"You don't say."
"I'll bring you one later. Now let's do this."
The nurse removed the wrappings from Boone's shins that inflated and deflated every few seconds to prevent blood clots, then slipped an anklet with rubber traction onto each foot. He helped Boone sit up and slide his legs off the edge of the bed, advising him to stay seated and get his bearings before trying to stand with his IVs attached.
Days before, Boone had been in the best shape of his life, but wobbling toward the bathroom in his cursed, open-backed gown, aided by a nurse and hissing against pain that pushed past his drug-induced haze, he felt disjointed and twice his age.
He had always hated immobility and dependence, but he knew they would be his lot until he could rehabilitate himself. Boone would be obsessive about that. He was already determined to snap back faster than any patient his caregivers had ever seen. And yet he couldn't deny that his bed, which had been miraculously changed during the moments he had relieved himself, appealed to him like an oasis.
As the nurse got him situated again, Boone pressed back against the cool sheets and felt as close to comfortable as he had since being wheeled in from surgery. Something told him that wouldn't last. Unique as this experience was, something else was off. Boone couldn't put a finger on it yet, but that would be his project for the day. He would eat what they told him to, ingest what they prescribed, start with as much physical therapy as he could abide, ask every question that came to mind ... and try to get a handle on what had gone wrong. The beacon that beckoned him was Haeley's next visit at the end of the day. Or might she sneak over on her lunch break? How great would that be? Maybe he could text her, ask her plans. Had she been there when Pastor Sosa was? Could she help him recall any of that visit?
But when Boone asked for his cell phone, intending to also text an apology to Sosa for anything he might have said or done, he was informed there was zero reception in Stroger Hospital. "Interferes with our equipment."
Fine. He'd call her from a landline. But first came breakfast. Swallowing was torture. Breathing remained a chore. And then came the physical therapist, who referred to herself as the PT. "You shouldn't need walker, crutches, or cane," she said. "You're unaffected from the belly down. I'll be right here if you need a hand."
She was half his size, yet Boone did find himself less steady than he expected. The trip to the bathroom should have been a harbinger, but food and more meds had made him overconfident. He shuffled down the hall—greeting and thanking the uniformed cops, rolling his IV stand with his good arm, and keeping his slinged other immobile. His recoup had only just begun, and already it seemed a life sentence.
At the end of the corridor, just past a waiting room, Boone espied a covered balcony outside a sliding glass door. As he padded past he noted that it overlooked a parking lot. "What are the odds I could sit out there this afternoon?"
"Up to your doctor," the PT said. "You'll likely have to be in a wheelchair, in case we need to get you back inside quickly."
She told him he had done fine "for a first outing" and that she would be back midafternoon for another round.
Dr. Robert Duffey visited late morning, wearing surgical scrubs. "If you saw me on the news," he said, "we can keep this short."
"Missed it," Boone said. "Sorry."
Duffey sighed. "MRI shows your shoulder is a mess. That'll have to be rebuilt by an ortho guy. The clavicle, though painful, is the least of your problems. It'll mend itself. A bullet fragment caught the pleura and—"
"Sorry," Boone said. "I'm a layman."
"That's the double-layer membrane that surrounds the lungs and the chest wall. You were born with it airtight. It was compromised by the bullet, causing a pneumothorax, a collapsed lung. If it had been small it might have resolved on its own, but yours was total, so we had to get in there."
"What'd you do?"
"Aspirated it. Released the air with a needle. Then drained it with a chest tube and a water seal bottle. That was supposed to allow air in the chest to move into the bottle but keep air in the room from entering the pleural space, and the pressure balance should have reinflated the lung."
Dr. Duffey nodded. "Didn't work. So I scraped the surface of the pleura to cause scar tissue, which makes the two layers stick together."
"You've lost me, but you sound like you know what you're talking about."
The doctor smiled and looked weary. "That's half the battle. You're going to be okay, but you need to know that shoulder will never be the same—regardless who does the work, and I'll refer you to the best. Rehab will make you wish you'd never been born."
Boone had already been through days like that. A destroyed shoulder hardly compared to losing a wife and baby. But now, with Haeley's kiss, he had more than enough to live for. He was reaching for the phone when Pastor Sosa poked his head in.
"Francisco! Do I need to talk to you!"
Sosa pulled a chair next to the bed. "This time I plan to take notes."
"So you were here yesterday."
"Doesn't surprise me that you don't remember. You made no sense, Boone."
"You know what you said?"
"All I remember is that you were coming."
"You asked me how many shoulders were in the human body! I assured you there was one per arm."
Laughing made Boone grimace. "Man, sometimes it hurts even to think."
Sosa read Scripture and prayed for Boone, then promised to try to make contact with Pascual Candelario if Boone could get the pastor approved through the powers that be. "Obviously, it'll be a while before I can get back to see him," Boone said.
Boone decided against telling Sosa about the latest step in his relationship with Haeley. He found himself suddenly exhausted and was embarrassed several minutes later to awaken, realizing he had fallen asleep before Pastor Sosa had left.
By lunchtime he was ravenous and had still not called Haeley. She wouldn't visit him during her break without his having asked. Anyway, he knew she didn't get a lot of time. He resolved to call her after his afternoon PT. She would have to make arrangements for her son, Max. No way the nurses would allow the boy in.
After eating, Boone was drowsy again, wondering what the PT would do if she found him sleeping. Actually, he knew. Physical therapy took precedence.
Still something niggled at the back of his mind. Why had he heard from no one in Organized Crime? They'd been all over him the day before. At least Jack Keller should have called.
Where was Boone's brain? He had forgotten to ask Dr. Duffey about sitting outside if the weather permitted.
The PT awakened him, and Boone proved only slightly steadier this time. She got him to go twice as far, and he noticed on his way past the small patio that there seemed no trick to opening the sliding door. Who needed permission anyway?
Back in the room he phoned Haeley, but a temp answered. "She's in meetings," he was told. And when he asked for Keller, he was told the same.
"Pete Wade?" Boone tried.
"The same, sir. Sorry. There's actually no one here right now."
"Not even the big boss?"
She paused. "You haven't heard? Chief Galloway announced his retirement today."
Wasn't that just like Fletcher? The man had perfect timing. The OCD busts up all the gangs in Chicago, including the Outfit; how does one top that?
"Do me a favor. Tell Haeley I really hope to see her at the end of the day."
Excerpted from THE BETRAYAL by JERRY B. JENKINS Copyright © 2011 by Jenkins Entertainment, LLC. . Excerpted by permission of TYNDALE HOUSE PUBLISHERS, INC.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted September 9, 2011
I just finished reading The Betrayal and I just loved it. It captured me from the first page and kept me to the end and I want more. The people just came alive and I felt like I was there experiencing the investigation. I could feel Drakes pain and his true love for Haley. I felt the closeness and trust he had with Kelly. I even felt the strongest love between mother and child. I loved the references to God's word and the way things were expressed in a Christian way. I can't wait for the next one. Hurry!!!!
3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 2, 2012
I have read all three of the Precinct 11 and am looking forward to the
fourth. Excellent police Christian novel. No cussing, swearing, or other dirty language. No gratuitous sex either. Just good, clean, suspenseful police work with Scriptures added.
2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 26, 2012
Detective Boone Drake brought down a crime syndicate, but he was shot and needs shoulder surgery. As he deals with the pain of his injury and reviews the case, he realizes that someone in the police department is bad.
I thought the book was a well written police drama. The author's insider view of the police force (his father and brothers were policemen) made the book seem authentic. I don't know how Boone kept going with his shoulder injury, pain meds that made him sleepy, and late nights. Having to decide who he could trust and who he couldn't made the book interesting.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 11, 2013
Posted January 22, 2013
Posted December 11, 2012
Posted September 11, 2012
I got this book free. really enjoyed the book Love reading all of Jerry Jenkins books. I havent read the first book in the series but will soon. I would recommend this one.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted September 7, 2012
Posted September 5, 2012
Posted September 5, 2012
Jenkins did it again. He took a topic that no one wants to speak of Bad Cops and the ones who will not turn there backs o the Most important Officer in the world, the Love of the Lord. Must readWas this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 30, 2012
Posted August 27, 2012
I just finished THE BETRAYAL by Jerry B. Jenkins. At first I was not
impressed. It seemed amaturish and the dialog was not believable. I
was kind of disappointed because I had enjoyed the LEFT BEHIND series.
As I continued though, I began to get into the story. It still seemed
not quite believable, and it was a bit predictable. It was an ok read.
It was a fast read. I did not get completely engrossed as I have with
many novels, but it was refreshing in the sense that I did not have to
slog though a lot of sexual inuendo and swearing. I would not
recommend it heartily, but it is good. It is good to read books that
include God's Word.
Posted August 21, 2012
Detective Boone Drake is shot protecting a witness during a huge sting operation because someone leaked inside information to the mob. The initial information points to Drake's new girlfriend - a single parent and coworker; but Drake refuses to take things at face value and digs deeper, uncovering a thirty year conspiracy which shakes the Chicago Police to its core.
I enjoyed this novel. For a mystery/thriller novel there is very little violence. Most of the drama comes from analyzing the different characters' motivations. A lot of peril, but very little of it graphic. This might actually be enjoyed by teens as much as adults.
Posted August 21, 2012
Posted August 17, 2012
We ended "The Brotherhood" with Chicago Police officer Boone Drake being shot and seriously wounded during the transfer of gang kingpin Pascual Candelario. PC as he is known, has undergone a spiritual conversion and is becoming an informant in one of the biggest stories to hit Chicago in decades.
It is quickly determined that the transfer was exposed - and the entire takedown is at risk - due to a traitor, and Gang Enforcement department secretary Haeley Lamonica (also Boone's new girlfriend) is being framed...but is she responsible? As Boone investigates he is hard pressed to know who he can trust, as the coverup seems to go to the highest levels in the CPD.
I am really enjoying these books - I read #1 and this one immediately thereafter - and am impressed with both. I can't wait to see the conclusion to this great series! Highly recommended.
Posted August 14, 2012
The Betrayal has a strong opening and keeps up a brisk pace for the majority of the story. Mildly predictable, Boone Jackson is Chicago Police officer recently wounded in a large sting operation he was responsible for planning. He is recovering from his injuries when he discovers that the girl he's just starting to get to know Haeley and hoping to get to know better has been accused of plotting against him. Boone is sure that she is innocent, but as he works to try to clear her name he has to work through a lot. Things get more complicated as he tries to protect a witness, clear Haley's name, work through his injury and decide who to trust.
The Betrayal is a crime novel with some love story aspects mixed in. This novel is not necessarily a edge-of-your-seat, suspense at every turn type book, but a detective story about love, betrayal, and friendships. It was easy to read and enjoyable. I would recommend this book to teens and young adults. Fans of suspense, mystery and police novels will like "The Betrayal."
I did not read the first book in the series, other reviewers recommend to read the first one before this one, you may enjoy this book more if you read The Brotherhood (Precinct 11) first.
I receive the EBook from the Tyndale summer reading list for my review
Posted August 11, 2012
Posted August 7, 2012
Posted July 29, 2012
I read the first book in this series a year ago. It left me hanging so I had to read the next one to see what happens. Crime dramas are not really my thing but the book was good. It keep me entertained and wanting to know what happens between Boone and Haley. Is she guilty or is she not? If you are into crime dramas this is the book for you.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 13, 2012
This book is about a man, a woman, and the betrayal of a team member that comes between them (at least for a time). In the end, this story speaks to the need to spiritually survive through life's unexpected events. It also addresses the need for spiritual disciplines to sustain believers. Maintain Bible reading and prayer life to nurture the heart and grow.
On a positive note, Mr. Jenkins does a great job twisting the plot and writing believable dialogue. I fault the author for plugging God in at the last minute. Boone's character was too super-hero like to buy into. I saw little spiritual growth in Boone's development. As a reader, I expected more from the story's lead.
However, I admired a hidden character within the story-line, Margaret. She does not move the story along but she convicts believers of people who are on the brink of committing their lives to Christ. It would be easy to judge her and brush her off. Mr.Jenkins notes her heart was convicted by God not by man. She, like those who live around us, is hungry for the message of redemption, revival, and reconciliation that comes through believing and receiving His most precious gift.
I have read better from Mr. Jenkins.