Uh-oh, it looks like your Internet Explorer is out of date.

For a better shopping experience, please upgrade now.

The Betrayal (Precinct 11 Series #2)

The Betrayal (Precinct 11 Series #2)

4.4 59
by Jerry B. Jenkins

See All Formats & Editions

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


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.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Jenkins has moved from end times (the megaselling Left Behind series) to crime times, and it's a smart move. Boone Drake is a Chicago police detective who was almost fatally shot at the end of the earlier novel (The Brotherhood) in the police thriller series Precinct 11. As he recovers, Drake faces a profound conundrum: someone in the Chicago PD appears to have leaked information to the shooter, violating the strict code of police solidarity. Worse, evidence suggests it could be his new girlfriend Haeley. Jenkins is a consummate novelist: his plotting is nicely sneaky, his dialogue crackling. Evangelical Christian fiction plot elements logically fit in a life-and-death crime thriller; a lot of people talk to God in high stakes situations. The motivation of the villain might be better developed, but that's relatively minor. This is good popcorn, with more to come. (Sept.)
Library Journal
In this sequel to The Brotherhood, Chicago police detective Boone Drake is still reeling from the loss of his wife and child. Having just brought down the city's most vicious gang leader, he now concentrates on keeping the key witness safe. When Drake tries to transfer the witness, an assassination attempt is made. It's clear that there is a leak in the police department. As he digs deeper, signs point to someone he loves. VERDICT Crisp writing, quick pacing. and surprising plot twists make this an enjoyable read. Expect fans of Jenkins (coauthor, "Left Behind" series) to clamor for it. Readers of John Sandford and Tess Gerritsen might try it, too.

Product Details

Tyndale House Publishers
Publication date:
Precinct 11 Series , #2
Sales rank:
Product dimensions:
6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.10(d)

Read an Excerpt




Copyright © 2011 Jenkins Entertainment, LLC.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4143-0908-8

Chapter One



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."

"Should have?"

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.

Meet the Author

Jerry B. Jenkins, former vice president for publishing at Moody Bible Institute of Chicago and currently chairman of the board of trustees, is the author of more than 175 books, including the best-selling Left Behind series. Twenty of his books have reached the New York Times Best Sellers List (seven in the number-one spot) and have also appeared on the USA Today, Publishers Weekly, and Wall Street Journal best-seller lists. Desecration, book nine in the Left Behind series, was the best-selling book in the world in 2001. His books have sold nearly 70 million copies. Also the former editor of Moody magazine, his writing has appeared in Time, Reader's Digest, Parade, Guideposts, Christianity Today and dozens of other periodicals. He was featured on the cover of Newsweek magazine in 2004.His nonfiction books include as-told-to biographies with Hank Aaron, Bill Gaither, Orel Hershiser, Luis Palau, Joe Gibbs, Walter Payton, and Nolan Ryan among many others. The Hershiser and Ryan books reached the New York Times Best Sellers List. Jenkins assisted Dr. Billy Graham with his autobiography, Just As I Am, also a New York Times best seller. Jerry spent 13 months working with Dr. Graham, which he considers the privilege of a lifetime. Jerry owns Jenkins Entertainment, a filmmaking company in Los Angeles, which produced the critically acclaimed movie Midnight Clear, based on his book of the same name. See www.Jenkins-Entertainment.com.Jerry Jenkins also owns the Christian Writers Guild, which aims to train tomorrow's professional Christian writers. Under Jerry's leadership, the guild has expanded to include college-credit courses, a critique service, literary registration services, and writing contests, as well as an annual conference. See ChristianWritersGuild.com. As a marriage-and-family author, Jerry has been a frequent guest on Dr. James Dobson's Focus on the Family radio program and is a sought-after speaker and humorist. See AmbassadorSpeakers.com. Jerry has been awarded four honorary doctorates. He and his wife, Dianna, have three grown sons and six grandchildren. Check out Jerry's blog at http://jerryjenkins.blogspot.com.

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Post to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews

The Betrayal 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 59 reviews.
orion60 More than 1 year ago
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.
KathieD More than 1 year ago
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!!!!
Virginia76 More than 1 year ago
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.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Say iphone 5c pic color then post this on10 other books look under pillow no scam
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It is a page turner could not put down glad to have a book like this wiout all the bad language and sex scenes highly recommend this book
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
all 3 in series
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Just finished and had a hard time putting it down. Jenkins nailed this genre with class and a good message!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great book! Be sure to read the first book in the series-The Brotherhood! Loved this series!
Odenhaus More than 1 year ago
Another hit out of the ball park for Jerry. A very good read. Can't wait for the next in this series!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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 read
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
ChristianFictionJunkie More than 1 year ago
Couldn't put it down. Jenkins is an awesome story teller. Can't wait to read #3.
Love2Read5683 More than 1 year ago
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.
Thursday4 More than 1 year ago
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. Thumbs up.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
An intrigue cilled page turner.