SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon

( 8 )

Overview

SEAL Team Six and Thomas Crocker are back hunting their most elusive adversary yet: The Falcon.

SEAL Team Six operative Thomas Crocker is no stranger to missions of the highest national importance and the gravest danger. But this time, the mission hits close to home. The Iranian terrorist he and his squad are chasing is the same man who kidnapped his wife months before-the Falcon, who has been stealing Libyan nuclear material and is laying plans for a devastating attack against ...

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SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon

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Overview

SEAL Team Six and Thomas Crocker are back hunting their most elusive adversary yet: The Falcon.

SEAL Team Six operative Thomas Crocker is no stranger to missions of the highest national importance and the gravest danger. But this time, the mission hits close to home. The Iranian terrorist he and his squad are chasing is the same man who kidnapped his wife months before-the Falcon, who has been stealing Libyan nuclear material and is laying plans for a devastating attack against America. The hunt takes the team from Bangkok to Caracas in hot pursuit of the Falcon and his forces.

Meanwhile, Corcker's estranged father—a former firefighter and hell-raiser who was kicked out of the Nacy as a young seaman—reappears, forcing Crocker to acknowledge his life outside the shadows of SEAL operations. Doing so isn't easy when duty calls over three hundred days of the year, and when it's this essential to take an enemy down.

Hunt the Falcon ups the ante for Crocker and the rest of SEAL Team Six as never before. The bullets fly, the action is relentless, and by the end Crocker and his crew will be put to the ultimate test: surviving captivity under the most depraved of men and taking the fight to the Falcon's doorstep, deep in the heart of Iran.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
PRAISE FOR SEAL TEAM SIX: HUNT THE WOLF

"A steady stream of action makes this a worthy entry into the burgeoning SEAL thriller genre."—Publishers Weekly

"SEAL aficionados and action addicts will find...engaging hours of reading here."
Kirkus Reviews

Publishers Weekly
10/21/2013
A wave of attacks that leaves Americans dead across the planet is only a prelude to a far more ambitious campaign of terror in Mann and Pezzullo’s rousing third Thomas Crocker thriller (after Hunt the Scorpion). More than patriotic fervor motivates SEAL Team Six leader Crocker and his subordinates; the mastermind behind the scheme is none other than established antagonist Farhed Alizadeh, aka “the Falcon.” An Iranian plot, abetted by an alliance of America’s enemies, takes Crocker and his team across the globe and finally into the darkest realms of Iran itself. The authors eschew making their heroes invincible; the series of injuries suffered by SEAL Team Six and their allies is a profound argument in favor of comprehensive medical insurance for international men of action. In the end, they deliver exactly what their fans want: a comfortingly simplistic tale about the ability of a few well-armed and ruthless warriors to provide security within a hostile world. Agent: Heather Mitchell, Gelfman Schneider Literary. (Dec.)
C.J. Edwards
True to its promise of entertaining the readers of Vince Flynn and Brad Thor... I want more and so will you."
David Ingram
"Mann's sparse prose keeps the story crackling and he imbues the novel with authenticity thanks to his thirty years of service."
--James Blount
"This fast-paced book provides a riveting and accurate description of how special operations units actually conduct counterterrorist operations in the field. . . . If you are interested in reading a suspenseful, action-filled novel written by the 'real deal' instead of some amateur wanna-be, pick up this book, or any of those in the SEAL Team Six series."
Commander Mark Divine
"The SEAL Team Six series by my teammate Don Mann are a must read by anyone who enjoys real deal elite special ops thrillers. Don's insights, tactical know-how and technical expertise, drawn from his many years as a SEAL 6 and 'OGA' operator in murky corners of the globe, are unparalleled."
Stew Smith
"Don Mann's Navy SEAL novels are etched with his personal experiences combined with an exciting fictional tale that could actually happen. I felt the adrenaline pumping."
Kirkus Reviews
2013-11-24
Bang. A shoot'em-up novel contemporaneous with world politics. Thomas Crocker is a red-blooded, patriotic warrior and leader of the fabled SEAL Team Six. His five team members cover the spectrum of American society, and all are tough, battle-hardened and ready for action at a moment's notice. That notice begins in Bangkok as a young autistic boy is left an orphan when a bomb is attached to his parents' car by a passing motorcycle rider. The attack is duplicated toward American targets in other foreign cities, and we are off on a global chase for the very bad guys. Mann and Pezzullo (Seal Team Six: Hunt the Scorpion, 2013, etc.) bring it on fast and heavy. They put the reader in the center of the action--the smells, sounds, savagery of war. (Note that author Mann is a former SEAL.) This war against terrorism targets an Iranian government–sanctioned cadre called Unit 5000 that intends to do serious damage on American soil. To stop them, Crocker and his SEALs work with the CIA and move quickly from Afghanistan to Thailand to Venezuela, ending in Ahvaz, Iran, running through the bad guys' offices. The SEALs are efficient and deadly, scarred physically and mentally from their work. And it is work, plain and simple, for the warriors they are trained to be, leaving their families to fend for themselves within the secrecy each man must maintain. Mann and Pezzullo can write action and place, politics and patriotism, but the novel feels like it is stitched together, a travelogue of violence. The characters are not fully formed but remain snapshots of what we envision a Navy SEAL to be in the flesh. Retribution drives Crocker as much as duty and patriotic zeal, and when the good guys win, they end with a sentimental moment with the autistic orphan the book began with. Like a good SEAL mission, the circle is completed. Action is the purpose here, and Mann and Pezzullo deliver. Those looking for something more could be dissatisfied.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781478925132
  • Publisher: Hachette Audio
  • Publication date: 12/3/2013
  • Format: CD
  • Edition description: Unabridged
  • Pages: 8
  • Sales rank: 590,889
  • Product dimensions: 5.20 (w) x 5.80 (h) x 0.80 (d)

Meet the Author

Don Mann (CWO3, USN) is the author of the national bestseller Inside SEAL Team Six and has for the last thirty years been associated with the Navy SEALS as a platoon member, assault team member, boat crew leader, or advanced training officer; and more recently program director preparing civilians to go to BUD/s (SEAL Training). Up until 1998 he was on active duty with SEAL Team 6. Since his retirement, he has deployed to the Middle East on numerous occasions in support of the war on terror. Many of the active duty members of SEAL Team 6 are the same guys he taught how to shoot and conduct ship and aircraft takedowns, and trained in urban, arctic, desert, river, and jungle warfare, as well as Close Quarters Battle and Military Operations in Urban Terrain. He has suffered two broken backs, two pulmonary embolisms, and multiple other broken bones, in training or service. He has twice survived being captured during operations.

Co-writer Ralph Pezzullo is a New York Times bestselling author and award-winning playwright, screenwriter and journalist. His books include Jawbreaker (with CIA operative Gary Berntsen).

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Read an Excerpt

SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon


By Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo

Little, Brown and Company

Copyright © 2013 Don Mann Ralph Pezzullo
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-316-24711-5


CHAPTER 1

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them.

—Rabindranath Tagore


John and Lenora Rinehart had just watched their thirteen-year-old son Alex dress himself for the first time. It was a special morning. Usually days at the Rinehart house started with a delicate dance, determined by their son's moods.

Just because his son Alex was autistic didn't mean he wasn't smart, John Rinehart reminded himself as his shoes met the uneven surface of the slate walk and he punched the electronic button that opened the door to his dark blue Saab 900. His son was exceptional in the IQ department. But his brain's ability to control the warp-speed flow of information, and his emotional impulses, was out of whack. When it didn't work the way Alex wanted it to, the boy got frustrated. And when he got frustrated, he got mad as hell. Screaming, beat-the-shit-out-of- whatever-he-could-get-his-hands-on angry sometimes.

Ask him to find the positive difference of the fourth power of two consecutive positive integers that must be divisible by one more than twice the larger integer? No problem. But little things like buttoning a shirt or fastening a zipper often tripped him up.

"Little things ... little victories," forty-two-year-old John Rinehart said as he reached across the console between the front seats and squeezed his wife Lena's hand.

She smiled past the straight black bangs that almost brushed her eyes and said, "I credit Alex's new school. It's been a major positive."

"Yes," John whispered back. His heart felt like it might leap out of his chest with delight.

John felt things strongly. Like his son. Sometimes so strongly that it scared him and he, too, had to fight hard to control himself.

His half-Asian wife was the more emotionally balanced of the two. She understood that tomorrow morning might be completely different; that life with a child like Alex was unpredictable at best.

John found it much harder to let go of the hope that his son would one day lead a normal life. He kept looking for a path, or an unopened doorway in his son's psyche, that would lead to that result. Which made sense, because part of what he did for a living as the economic counselor at the U.S. embassy was to look for patterns of activity and use them to try to predict future events—Chinese-Thai trade, baht volatility, Thai-U.S. trading algorithms.

He was a brilliant man who studied the world and saw tendencies, vectors, roads traveled, like the one he steered the highly polished car onto now, into the knot of cars, trucks, motorcycles, and bicycles on what the Thais called Thanon Phetchaburi.

He'd learned to expect the eight-mile ride to the embassy to take forty minutes because of the traffic, but he didn't mind. It gave him and his wife a chance to listen to music and spend some quiet time together.

This morning he didn't want to think about the embassy where she also worked, as an administrative assistant in the CIA station. Nor did he want to consider the problems he'd deal with when he got there.

Instead he listened as Stan Getz played a smooth, moving "Body and Soul" over the stereo, and he hummed along, feeling unusually optimistic and calm. He even entertained the possibility that when his tour in Thailand ended in a year, he would return to teaching. Maybe even accept the position on the faculty of University of California, Berkeley that had been offered him a little while back. Lena would like that.

The sky above was a murky, almost iridescent yellow. Bangkok was a surreal blend of staggeringly beautiful and disgusting, rich and poor, spiritual and depraved, all living pressed together. He found the yin-yang dynamic of the city fascinating.

Adjusting the air-conditioning, he turned to his wife. "I'm proud of you, darling," he said.

"I'm proud of you. And Alex, too."

"Our Alex," he added.

Through the windshield John noticed a battered blue truck squeezing into the little space between his front bumper and the Nissan taxi four feet to the right. He applied the brake, hit the horn, then turned to his wife.

He noticed the way the light accentuated her cheekbones, then out of the corner of his right eye glimpsed a motorcycle near the back bumper. Two helmets, both black with mirrored visors. The driver and rider looked like aliens.

Past the soaring saxophone solo and through the soundproof door panels, he heard a metal click. Seconds later the motorcycle roared past, narrowly avoiding a bus.

He was thinking about the first time he had seen Lena, standing near the entrance to the Georgetown University library. She was a sophomore; he was pursuing a master's degree in economics.

He remembered how he had stopped to ask her for directions to White-Gravenor Hall even though he knew where it was. And how when she turned, he was struck by her beauty, and the strength and intelligence in her eyes.

John Rinehart opened his mouth to tell Lena how he had felt at that moment, how certain he had been that something important was happening. But before he could get the words out, the small but powerful explosive device that had been magnetically attached to the car's rear fender exploded, tearing through the chassis, igniting the high-octane fuel in the gas tank and causing the car to burst into flames.

John and Lenora Rinehart were dead within seconds. Another eight poor souls riding bicycles and motorbikes in the vicinity also died. Twenty-three were seriously injured.

Before Thai police officials had finished their inspection of the site and carted away the wreckage of the Saab 900, a similar magnetic device had killed a U.S. military attaché and his assistant in their car a half mile away. That same day bombs placed by riders on motorcycles killed fifteen more U.S. and Israeli officials in Rome, Athens, Mumbai, and Cairo.

The pain the bombings caused was incalculable—children denied fathers, wives turned into widows, friends and colleagues left questioning their faith in God.

Alex Rinehart, on hearing the news that his parents had been killed, retreated inside himself and refused to talk.


That night, 2,410 miles northwest of Bangkok, Navy SEAL Team Six leader Thomas Crocker wiped the snow from the goggles fastened to his FAST Ballistic Helmet and adjusted the seventy-five-pound pack on his back.

"This remind you of anything, boss?" his blond commo man, Davis, asked in a gravelly voice behind him, little icicles clinging to the half-inch reddish growth on his jaw and chin. "The Nightmare Before Christmas?" Crocker replied as he retaped the straps on his backpack so they wouldn't make noise as he approached the target. His left hand burned from a frigid wind that whistled through the craggy rocks along the ridge in southeastern Afghanistan.

"K2," Davis said, referring to a training climb Crocker had taken the team on, during which a female friend of his had died in an avalanche. Then, noticing that his chief's left hand was bare, he asked, "What happened to your glove?"

"Lost it attending to Dog." Dog, a.k.a. Timothy L. Douglas, was the new guy who had just completed Green Team. He trudged ahead of them favoring his left leg and carrying "the pig"—SEALspeak for the MK43 Mod 0 machine gun, which Crocker preferred to call "the nasty."

Dog, a former middle linebacker at the University of Tennessee, had slipped about a half mile back as they were climbing and ripped a foot-long gash in his right thigh, which Crocker had bandaged up.

"I got a spare pair," Davis said, white fog shooting from his mouth and mixing with the condensation around them. He removed a pair of black cold-weather gloves from his drop leg pouch and handed them to Crocker.

"Colder than a witch's tit," the team leader groaned, shaking his exposed hand to keep the blood moving, then slipping them on. "Thanks."

He was leading twelve men, all SEALs from Team Six, who had been at Jalalabad Airfield chilling, listening to music, playing video games, reading, sleeping, shooting the shit, when the urgent message came over the radio that Observation Post Memphis (OPM) was under attack. Two things made this significant and alarming: One, the difficulty of the terrain in the middle of the Hindu Kush range combined with the blizzard made it impossible to reinforce the post by air or provide it with any sort of air support. People who had been to OPM referred to it as being "on the dark side of the moon." And two, five operators from Six had been dispatched to the post a week earlier and were now trapped and fighting for their lives, along with a dozen marines, several national guardsmen from Pennsylvania, and a platoon of soldiers from the U.S. Army's 17th Infantry Alpha Company.

As a general rule, when teammates are under attack, you don't sit back at base with your thumb up your ass.

Adding to Crocker's sense of duty was the fact that one of the Team Six operators fighting for his life in OPM was his running partner Neal Stafford—a former cowboy from Waco, Texas, with two wild young boys and a lovely wife named Alyssa, who was the best friend of Crocker's wife, Holly. Crocker's teenage daughter Jenny babysat for their kids.

All of this explained why Crocker had sought out the one helicopter pilot from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR) who was crazy enough to brave the fifty-mile-an-hour gusts and drop them off as high up the mountain as possible, and why they had slowly been picking their way through the snow, ice, and rocks like goats. The 160th SOAR was also known as the Night Stalkers. Their motto: Night Stalkers don't quit.

Coming up the other side—the east side—was out of the question, since the whole Kunar Valley, and most of Nuristan Province, was firmly under Taliban control, and had been for over a year. Most Americans weren't aware that this part of Afghanistan was called the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan and flew a white flag with a mujahideen call-to-arms slogan scrawled on it.

Which begged the question Crocker had been asking himself for hours: what the fuck was OPM doing there in the first place? Someone in Jalalabad had told him that a general had it built to monitor traffic along one of the most important access roads to Kabul. Another person had told him that Iranians had been seen in the area.

Was OPM monitoring the movement of arms, heroin, Taliban fighters? Where was that general now? Sitting in some warm room with his feet up watching college football?

Crocker stopped himself. It didn't matter now. All he cared about were the lives of the SEALs and other soldiers trapped at OPM, and helping to fight back the Taliban assault until the storm abated and rescue helicopters could pull them out.

Judging from the unrelenting ferocity of the storm, that might be a while.

Crocker held up his right fist, indicating to the men that he wanted them to huddle around him. Facing him were twelve grizzled faces caked with ice and snow. Aside from his core five, which included Davis (commo), Ritchie (demolitions), Mancini (equipment and weapons), Cal (sniper), and Akil (maps and logistics), there were machine gunners Dog and Yale, Gabe, Langer, Jake, Chauncey, and Phillips.

"How you doing, Dog?" Crocker asked over the muffled sounds of warfare echoing up from the other side of the mountain.

"Hurtin' a little and embarrassed, but ready to kick some ass."

"I like that attitude."

As long as Dog was physically and mentally strong enough to set up and operate the twenty-pound, gas-operated, belt-fed, air-cooled killing machine (capable of firing as many as fourteen 7.62 caliber rounds per second) he cradled in his arms, Crocker didn't care how much discomfort he was in. To his mind, pain was weakness leaving the body.

"Refuel. Rehydrate," Crocker barked. "In a few minutes we're gonna reach the top of this ice cube and enter the shit. I want us all to stick together until I say otherwise. Maintain three-sixty security. Visibility is terrible. I don't want us shooting at one another. Any questions? Any problems?"

Several of the SEALs shook their heads.

Cal, the sniper, spoke up. "This peashooter ain't gonna do a whole lot of good in this weather, boss," he said, slapping the MK11 Mod 0 sniper weapons system he carried slung across his back.

"Manny's got an extra MP7. He'll lend it to you. Right, Manny?"

"A round of beers at the Guadalajara when we get back," Mancini said. The Guadalajara was a popular watering hole close to the SEAL base in Virginia Beach.

"With nachos," Ritchie added.

Crocker said, "Davis, call the post commander. Tell him we're approaching from the northwest ridge."

A marine corporal back at Jalalabad had explained to him that the only possible land approach to OPM was along the northwest ridge, then down rope ladders that had been rigged along the rocks that formed the back wall of the base.

"Roger, boss," Davis responded.

Guys squeezed energy gel into their mouths, wolfed down energy bars, and gulped water from their CamelBaks. Crocker checked his Garmin 450t GPS with a preloaded 3-D map of the area and confirmed that they were within four hundred yards of the observation post. Visibility was so bad he couldn't see more than four feet ahead.

Davis pointed at him, and seconds later a transmission from the marine major in charge of OPM blared through the F3 radio transmitter in Crocker's helmet.

"Tango-six-two, this is Memphis-five-central. I thank the Holy Father for your assistance. Condition double-red here. Need medevac, immediate support. Taking heavy casualties. Two of our guard stations have already been overrun!"

Crocker thought it was both strange and alarming that Neal Stafford was at the post. Last time he had seen him he was halfway around the world, tossing a miniature football to his two young sons on the front lawn of his house in Virginia. Now, as he considered how Neal's safety might affect Neal's family and the tender network of relationships and emotions that connected Neal's life to his own, he felt a responsibility to get him out of OPM unharmed.

"Memphis-five-central, we'll soon be approaching along the northwest ridge," Crocker responded. "Alert your perimeter. Is the path clear? Over." He'd been trained to compartmentalize his feelings in order to effectively do this job.

"Tango-six-two, we're under attack from the east and the south. Keep following the ridge. I'll send two men out to meet you. They'll disarm the alarms and show you the way down. Do you copy?"

"Copy, Memphis. Have them whistle. Three short blasts in succession, so we know it's them."

"Three short whistles. Copy, Tango. Welcome and Godspeed. Over and out."

Crocker saw the wary look on some of the men's faces and barked, "Be sure to stay alert and stick together!"

"And don't feed the trolls," Akil added.

"You've got the wrong continent," Mancini growled back. "Trolls are mythological beings from Scandinavian folklore."

Akil shook his head. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. When you say shit, get it right."

Crocker had taken a mere twenty steps along the snow-covered trail at the top of the ridge when the first rounds of automatic fire whizzed by, and he shouted to his men to hold fire and take cover behind nearby rocks and boulders. Then the firing picked up and was augmented by a barrage of missiles, mortars, and propelled grenades.

Pieces of hot metal hissed into the snow and ice. Explosions lit up the craggy landscape nearby, but visibility was still limited.

Crocker was high on adrenaline. His mind worked at warp speed, measuring distance, speed, the sequence of information, and making calculations. Something was very wrong.

"Should we return fire, boss?" asked Davis, crouched to his right.

"Negative!" Crocker shouted.

From somewhere behind him Dog muttered, "This situation is double fucked."

"Double fucked or not, we'll accomplish the mission." Then Crocker spoke into his headset: "Hold your fire. We don't want to give away our position. Pull back to the other side of the ridge."
(Continues...)


Excerpted from SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Falcon by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo. Copyright © 2013 Don Mann Ralph Pezzullo. Excerpted by permission of Little, Brown and Company.
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.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
( 8 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 8 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 20, 2014

    I've read all of the Seal Team Six books and I think Hunt the Fa

    I've read all of the Seal Team Six books and I think Hunt the Falcon is the best of the group. Unending excitement beginning on the first page. I tried to put the book down so I could make it last a while. I read it  in one sitting. As a military thriller, this is a great read! My favorite authors are Vince Flynn, Brad Thor, Brad Taylor and Don Mann. If you like military action, specifically Seal action, yo'
    you'll not go wrong with any of these authors.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 14, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    The heroes and Human Side of the War on Terrorism

    The terrorist, The Falcon and his Iranian terrorist cell are back and there is a score to be settled; a score Tom Crocker and SEAL Team Six are more than willing and able to even out, no matter the cost. Have Tom’s covert missions finally taken its toll on Holly, who is still trying to come to terms with the nightmare she became part of under the twisted hands of the man they call the Falcon? As she slowly crumbles, Tom cannot reveal that he is doing all he can to save more innocent lives and to avenge her suffering. Taking the fight to the enemy, Tom and his team will face torture, the loss of good men, a traitor, and reminders that he is needed at home as well as in the field.

    Hunt the Falcon by Don Mann is a frightening journey into the battles we never hear of, the heroics and sometimes seemingly foolhardy risks taken by soldiers fighting the battle against terror. This time out, these brave men will face their own humanity as well as bullets as Don Mann fleshes the team out, allows heroes to be tortured, to die and to be permanently scarred for life. Will the memories they will always have slivering through their minds be too much?

    Mr. Mann tells his tale as an insider who knows and spares nothing in bringing each scene to life with emotion and a decisive style that spares no one’s sensibilities, laying bare all of the atrocities and evils without putting any “lipstick on the pig.” A must read for those who want an over-the-top Military read written with a stark and gritty style. Fiction or not, everyone needs a hero, or in this case heroes and SEAL Team Six are those heroes.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 16, 2014

    Eliteclan

    Oakpaw and i am your leader

    1 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 31, 2014

    This is a dynamic guns blazing adventure. The Falcon focuses on

    This is a dynamic guns blazing adventure. The Falcon focuses on the desperate struggle against the 5000 Islamic radical extreme terrorist group. Chief Warrant officer Tom Crocker is struggling with personal guilt and his loyalty to his Seal team six. He finds little time at home during the holidays after his faithful rescue of his wife from the clutches of the Falcon. The Falcon is the secret head of the radical Islamic group from Iran. His adventures foiling bomb plots takes him all over the world from the streets of Bangkok to Brazil to Venezuela. .. His personal struggle and bravery in the most desperate situations tests his spirit and body

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted July 28, 2014

    I received this book from Net Galley for my opinion on this book

    I received this book from Net Galley for my opinion on this book. Another Action Packed book. This is the third book in Tom Crocker series and it's more action packed, high intense book to date. This book is like watching a Blockbuster Action Movie but it's written down instead of it being a movie. There is a little personal drama in the book but it only makes sense for there to be. The book from start to finish is action, action, action. I  loved every minute of it. I still don't know how the Seal Team 6 is still alive after this book. You cheer for Tom Crocker and his Team to get the bad guy and they always do but with such flair. You get so engrossed in the book that you don't realize that you have already read half the book. I would recommend everyone reads this book but start with the first one in the series.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted May 9, 2014

    This is a fast paced thriller that is filled with action. Once

    This is a fast paced thriller that is filled with action. Once more we follow Crocker's team as they follow the Falcon's trail and traverse from country to country. They meet with horrific obstacles and challenges along the way, but continue to push forward past all normal limits. While this is book three of the series, it can be read as a stand alone book.

    This novel kept me riveted and I have added this author to my my read authors' list.

    Thank you to Netgalley for providing an ARC.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 17, 2014

    Iceshade

    May I join... Or prove to you I should?

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 20, 2013

    Hello there

    I went outside ,but i couldnt find the banana. Hahahaha

    0 out of 10 people found this review helpful.

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