This
week I have the pleasure of featuring an except from Eye of the Storm the fourth novel in Kenneth Hoss’s Kelli Storm
Series. I have had the privilege of reviewing previous installments of the
series and look forward to an author interview with Mr. Hoss next week and an
official review of Eye of the Storm in
the near future.
Enjoy this
taste of the Storm and if you haven’t read the other three books, I will
provide a link at this end of this post. While each book stands alone as solid
stories, they are even better when read as a whole. So if you haven’t….get on it!
Author’s Synopsis
The body
of a Russian prostitute is dumped in a Washington Heights park and Detectives
Kelli Storm and Eric Ryder are called to the scene. A note found on the woman’s
body containing her name and that of a former Russian mobster leads Kelli to an
old nemesis.
When
they confront a Russian Diplomat and the Russian Brotherhood with little
success, they seek the help of an FBI contact who aids them in finding a
connection between the Diplomat and a corrupt FSB Agent, and uncover a criminal
conspiracy between a dangerous Mexican cartel and a notorious New York crime
family.
As Kelli
peels away the layers of death and corruption, she soon finds herself targeted
by these organizations, all wanting to eliminate the threat to themselves and
their livelihoods.
Excerpt
Friday September 27th – 9:45 A.M. – Elizabeth,
New Jersey
Corbin Street – Maher Terminals
Inc.
Kelli
flipped through several pages of the manifest, shook her head and looked back
at the clerk. “Exactly how many containers were on this ship?”
The
little man adjusted his glasses, tapped the keyboard in front of him, studied
the screen and looked up at Kelli. “Exactly three thousand four hundred, all
containing machine parts. Do you want to know where they are?”
“No, I
don’t. What I want to know is, were these containers inspected, and if so, who
inspected them?”
“Are
you kidding me? Do you know how many containers come through this port every
day? Even the Department of Homeland Security admitted that it was impossible
to check all of the containers coming in to U.S. ports. Sure, if we feel
there’s a reason to inspect a container, it gets inspected, but otherwise, it
just goes on to its destination.”
Kelli
looked at Greg, shook her head and turned back to the clerk. “So can you tell
me if any of these containers are still here?”
He
shrugged, looked back at his screen, tapped a few keys and nodded. “It looks
like there are three containers from that ship that haven’t been picked up by
the carrier yet.”
“And
where are these containers?”
“Section
B, spaces twelve, thirteen, and fourteen,” he said and looked back up at her.
“Okay,
get somebody to take us to them; I’d like to see these machine parts.”
“Sure,
you got a warrant, right? Those containers are private property; you can’t just
open them up. Besides, your NYPD, this is New Jersey, you don’t have any
jurisdiction here.”
Kelli
leaned over the desk, her face inches away from the clerk’s face. “True, I may
not have jurisdiction, but my friends here do, isn’t that right, Special Agent
Gallo?”
“That’s
correct, Detective Storm,” he said as he stepped up next to the desk and tossed
the warrant down.
“Now,
I want you to get on the phone and get someone over here to take us to those
containers.”
The
clerk nodded as he fumbled for his desk phone. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get someone
from security over here. What’s so important about these containers anyway?”
“Maybe
nothing, but it’s possible that one or all of them were used to smuggle young
women into the country, as in human trafficking, sex slaves,” she said, her
eyes focused on his. “Now, make that call.”
“Shit,
really? I mean you hear about it, but you never think about it,” he said and
hit a button on the phone and waited.
****
The
first two containers held exactly what was stated on the manifest, crates of
machine parts, bound for Chicago. When they cracked the doors on the third
container however, it was all they could do to keep from vomiting. The
overpowering stench emanating from the open door was just the beginning. Greg
was the first one to regain his composure, and with a hand over his nose and
mouth, he entered the container.
“Sick
sons of bitches,” he said as he exited moments later. “We’ve got three inside,
dead. I didn’t get close enough to check, but my guess is that they died from
dehydration. And from the level of decomp, it looks like they’ve been here for
a while too.”
Kelli
looked up at him, forcing down the bile in her throat. “Those Russian sons of
bitches. They kidnap these girls, throw them in this thing and then don’t even
give a damn if they live or not,” she said, balling her fist, her face growing
hotter. “I want these bastards, Greg; they have to pay for this shit.”
“Calm
down, Kelli. They will pay, but let’s get these girls out of there first,
okay?” He put his arm around her and eased her away from the container. “Gallo,
Graham. One of you want to get forensics down here, and a coroner,” he called
over his shoulder.
The Author
Kenneth Hoss was born at Carswell Air
Force Base in Fort Worth, Texas in 1957 to Albert and Mary Hoss. He served a
combined total of fourteen years on active duty from 1974 to 1987 in both the
U.S. Army and U.S. Navy. His tour in the Army took him to Frankfurt, Germany
where he had the opportunity to
To read
any or all of the first three novels go to Mr. Hoss' Amazon Page and watch for
the upcoming release of Eye of the Storm
on August 16th
No comments:
Post a Comment