Suicide Bomb

by Bobby Nash

  There are some folks I’d like to give a BIG THANK YOU for helping make this book happen.

  First, a HUGE THANK YOU to my Patrons for supporting my work on Patreon. Take a bow, Lil’ John Nacinovich, Robert McIntyre, James Burns, John Kilgallon, Darrell Grizzle, Andrea Judy, Jack D. Kammerer Jr., Jeff Allen, and Sean R. Reid. Rock stars one and all. Thanks for helping me realize my dreams.

  This novel was a great experiment, my first attempt at doing a serialized novel, releasing a chapter a week on Patreon. Thanks to my patrons for their feedback, indulging my experimental nature, and letting me kill a couple of you in this very novel. I call it a success and am doing a new serialized novella now. There are perks to being a Patron. Join us today at www.patreon.com/bobbynash and read ‘em all.

  Also, my great thanks to all of the wonderful people who share the news about my work and help spread the word. Thanks a million. I couldn’t do it without ya!

  Although he’s never been brainwashed into committing crimes or committed murder most foul, Bobby Nash spends his days writing about the bad guys who do the brainwashing and the heroes committed to stopping them. Bobby is an award-winning author of novels, comic books, short stories, novellas, graphic novels, audio books, and the occasional screenplay for multiple publishers and production companies.

  Bobby is a member of the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers and International Thriller Writers. On occasion, Bobby also appears in movies and TV shows, usually standing behind or beside your favorite actor.

  Bobby was named Best Author in the 2013 Pulp Ark Awards. Rick Ruby, a character co-created by Bobby and author Sean Taylor also snagged a Pulp Ark Award for Best New Pulp Character of 2013. Bobby has also been nominated for the 2014 New Pulp Awards and Pulp Factory Awards for his work. Bobby's novel, Alexandra Holzer's Ghost Gal: The Wild Hunt won a Paranormal Literary Award in the 2015 Paranormal Awards. The Bobby Nash penned episode of Starship Farragut "Conspiracy of Innocence" won the Silver Award in the 2015 DC Film Festival. Bobby's story in The Ruby Files Vol. 2 "Takedown" was named Best Short Story in the 2018 Pulp Factory Awards, one of five nominations for The Ruby Files Vol. 2 (created by Bobby Nash & Sean Taylor). Bobby's digest novel, Snow Drive was nominated for Best Novel in the 2018 Pulp Factory Awards.

  For more information on Bobby Nash and his work, please visit him at www.bobbynash.com and www.ben-books.com as well as social media.

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  Learn more about SUICIDE BOMB at www.ben-books.com under the Suicide Bomb tab.

  SOME DAYS YOU JUST CAN’T GET RID OF A BOMB

  the long road from blood shot to suicide bomb

  An Essay by Bobby Nash

  Boy, that Batman knew what he was talking about, didn’t he?

  The novel you hold in your hand has been in production a long, long time. Even I was beginning to wonder if it were ever going to get finished. I’ll explain.

  This plot for Suicide Bomb was originally planned for a comic book character I had pitched to a publisher. The character was theirs and I was talking with the publisher about writing that title. Sadly, it didn’t happen, but I liked the basic idea of the plot and started writing it around the same time I was working on DEADLY GAMES!, the follow up to my first novel, EVIL WAYS.

  If you’ve read much of my work, you’ll notice that I love to have more than one main protagonist (the good guy) so the characters can play off of one another. In Evil Ways, that was Harold and Franklin Palmer, brothers who worked well together, but also got on one another’s nerves. In Deadly Games!, the leading duo was Detective Jonathan Bartlett and reporter, Benjamin West. They also got on one another’s nerves. With Suicide Bomb, which was originally called Blood Shot, for you completists out there, I decided not to repeat myself and have the characters be so antagonistic toward one another. Once I had the characters of homicide detective Catherine Jackson and Secret Service Agent Samantha Patterson in place, I made sure they played nice. It worked well. The characters blended together nicely and I liked the chemistry they displayed. Rom there, it was a simple task of dropping them into the story and see what they did next. Okay, it’s not really that easy, but it’s close.

  The book had several starts and stops over the years as other projects took priority, then those priorities shifted, etc. It happens. Then, an idea hit me. I was looking for a way to add value to my Patreon page (www.patreon.com/bobbynash for those interested) when the idea of doing a serialized story there came to me. With A large chunk of BLOOD SHOT completed, it was the perfect story for this format. I gave it a re-read and an editing pass, changed the title to SUICIDE BOMB, and finished writing the book, which was the main goal for the serialization to begin with. It also gave my wonderful patrons a story to read ahead of everyone else and give me their feedback as the story unfolded. I also agreed to kill off a couple of patrons in the story. I hope they enjoy the way their namesakes met their fate. I also gave the mysterious Controller the real name of a friend of mine who asked to be a killer in one of my novels. I hope he likes how it turned out and enjoyed his final fate.

  Another thing I enjoy doing is killing off characters, and in this novel, I do rack up a nice body count. Some of the kills were quite inventive. I had fun with them. I hope you do too.

  Hopefully, readers will enjoy Suicide Bomb enough that Jacks and Sam can have another adventure together.

  If you’re reading this, I have one small request.

  If you like what you read, please tell a friend and leave a review. Reviews are an author’s lifeblood. Reviews make it easier for others to find our books and each one is greatly appreciated.

  If you want to get a sneak peek on upcoming releases and behind the scenes insider information, please join us on Patreon at www.patreon.com/bobbynash Patreon acts like a subscription service. Each month, subscribers get an ebook or two and new releases when they come out, sometimes sooner. A new serialized novella is currently unfolding there each week.

  Thanks for sticking with us on our journey. Let’s do it again real soon.

  Happy reading.

  Bobby

  IN THE WIND: EVIL WAYS’ SHERIFF TOM MYERS RETURNS IN HIS FIRST STAND-ALONE PATREON-EXCLUSIVE SERIALIZED NOVELLA.

  Following the success of SUICIDE BOMB as a serialized novel, author Bobby Nash is doing it again with “IN THE WIND.” a Sheriff Tom Myers thriller. Set in fictional North Georgia’s Sommersville County, In The Wind features Sheriff Myers and his deputies from EVIL WAYS, DEADLY GAMES!, and the upcoming EVIL INTENT on the trail of a missing federal witness, who escapes into the wilds of undeveloped Sommersville County when the safe house is attacked. This novel also helps solidify the BEN Books universe of characters as it features a character from the popular SNOW series and follows up on events from SNOW STORM. It’s all connected.

  Here's a sneak peek at IN THE WIND:

  Pete Messer hated his current assignment.

  It wasn’t a tough gig, but what it also wasn’t was very exciting. He had been tasked, along with two other U.S. Marshals like himself and an FBI Agent to baby sit a witness at a safe house out in the middle of nowhere.

  On paper, it sounded like a plum assignment.

  In reality, he was bored to death.

  Their witness was a mid-level scumbag who kept book for the Manelli crime family named Bates Hewell. Although the Manelli’s had been keeping a low profile in recent years, save for a slight altercation a year earlier that ended in a shootout. Instead, they had been focusing on their legitimate enterprises as opposed to their less than legal means of income, they hadn’t abandoned their criminal ways. They just learned how to keep those endeavors out of the limelight.

  What their witness knew would mean mass arrests and convictions. Once the word got out that Hewell had turned State’s evidence, if it hadn’t already, all hell was going to break loose. This guy’s life wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel if the Manelli’s got a hold of him. For the past two months, Agent Messer and a revolving team of agents had been babysitting
the witness, moving every few days to a new secure location in an effort to keep anyone looking for Hewell off balance. They had to keep him safe until his deposition later in the week. After that, they would repeat the process until the trial, which could take anywhere up to a year or more to begin. Longer no doubt, once Manelli’s high priced attorneys got in on the act.

  Messer hoped there was a plan to rotate him out of babysitting detail soon. He needed a break, not just from the monotony of the assignment, but from the annoying protectee in his charge. So far, he was the only Marshal on the detail to not be swapped out and he was starting to wonder if he was on someone’s shit list back home or if they had simply forgotten about him.

  “Ours is not to question why…” he muttered and dropped the cigarette on the driveway before grinding it out with his shoe. He had given up the cancer sticks once upon a time, but when on these seemingly never-ending protection details, he craved a smoke if for no other reason than to have something to do. Out of respect for his coworkers, he always took it outside when time to light up. Slipping on a sweater jacket and hoodie over his button up shirt and tie to keep up the illusion that it was a nice, normal family renting out the old Patterson place off Old Country Road 3 near the intersection of Highway 81.

  To his co-workers, he was walking the perimeter while grabbing a smoke.

  The safe house sat on a fairly secluded piece of land in a quiet northeast Georgia area just a few miles north of the middle of nowhere, a perfect place to hide out. The house they had rented under false, government created identities, was a ranch built in the 1980’s when the house had once been a farm house. There were several acres of fairly flat, overgrown with grass, terrain surrounding them, which meant they would see anyone coming their way long before they reached the house.

  From the outside, there was nothing extraordinary about the old Patterson place.

  The inside wasn’t much different, which made it the perfect safe house to keep their witness on ice until time for him to stand before the grand jury and spill his guts.

  The safe house was your typical ranch style house that was built in the 1980’s all over the southeastern United States. Three bedrooms, two of them tiny, two bathrooms, kitchen, den, living room, dining room, small fireplace, and two car garage that only fit two cars if you didn’t have to open the doors on either of them. The house sat on fourteen acres of flat farm land, which allowed them to keep an eye on all directions. It was a foreclosure that had been purchased under a dummy corporation’s name to keep it secure. On paper, it was a rental property.

  Only a handful of people knew its real purpose.

  Deputy U.S. Marshal Messer walked into the living room and yawned. The sun had set less than an hour earlier and since he had been on duty since midnight, he was ready to crash.

  “I’m beat,” he told the Parker and Cutler, who were playing what was probably their hundredth game of poker. One of them had brought cards and chips. Messer wasn’t sure if they were actually playing for real money or not.

  Messer, along with Deputy U.S. Marshal Simon Parker, Deputy U.S. Marshal Amy Street, FBI Agent Mike Cutler had spent the past week rotating shifts around their witness, an annoying man who rarely slept and watched a lot of TV when he wasn’t pacing nervously. He was an anxiety attack just waiting to happen.

  “Yeah, sack out, man,” Parker said as he folded and tossed his cards atop the pile of chips he had just forfeited. “You look tired.”

  “You’re a peach, Parker,” Messer said.

  “Knock first. Street’s in there.”

  Thanks. He knocked and there was no answer so he assumed she was asleep. Messer gave his colleagues a half-hearted salute before heading into the master bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him. In the dark, he couldn’t see Amy Street in either of the two beds that sat against opposite walls of the master bedroom, but he entered the room quietly anyway.

  Both beds were empty. Once the door was closed, he heard the shower running in the bathroom and saw light from beneath the door. It didn’t take a twelve-year law enforcement veteran to put two and two together.

  Messer kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed farthest from the bathroom without bothering to change clothes, although he did loosen and pull off his tie and unbutton his shirt. He hung his shoulder holster on the bed post along with the tie then laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. He was tired, but sleep constantly eluded him, especially on the job. It was not a new problem. He couldn’t shut off his brain long enough to doze off. There were too many variables running through his head, schedules, check ins, perimeter searches, things like that. His mind was on the job twenty-four/seven. While that made him good at his job, it had killed more than a few relationships. Occupational hazard.

  Messer could still hear the TV from the living room through the door, but it was a muffled roar. Their witness was obsessed with old TV shows. Thanks to the abundance of cable channels showing classic TV lineups these days and the witnesses inability to sleep for more than two or three hours at a time, each night he was able to watch one episode each of each Star Trek series, the A-Team, Quantum Leap, Magnum p.i., Nash Bridges, Night Court, Cheers, and Simon & Simon before passing out for a few hours when the house fell into blessed silence.

  The deputy marshal did not see the appeal, personally. He had seen many of those shows as a kid, but after seeing an episode once, he never felt the need to watch it again. He couldn’t understand people like his brother who collected box sets of old shows and watched them over and over again. It seemed weird.

  Messer had just started to doze off when the bathroom door opened and Street came into the room. In the short time he had known her, he came to realize that she never walked through a door so much as she burst through them.

  “Sorry,” Street said softly as soon as she realized she wasn’t alone. She flipped off the bathroom light and plunged the room into darkness. The only light came in under the door from the living room, the red numbers on the clock, and from around the edges of the closed blinds on the window.

  “Did I wake you?” Street asked as she tiptoed across the room on bare feet.

  “Nah. I just got in,” Messer mumbled. “You turning in or heading back to the final frontier out there?”

  “Nap time,” Street said. After securing her weapon in the nightstand, she climbed into the other bed. She was dressed more comfortably than he was, in sweats and a baggy T-shirt, her long, dark hair pulled up into a ponytail.

  He and Street got along pretty well, probably because he was the only man in the house that hadn’t tried to hit on her yet. He found her attractive, but she wasn’t really his type. He hadn’t been able to say the word gay out loud yet, despite John pressuring him to at least tell his parents about them moving in together. They both agreed that keeping it out of the workplace was probably smart, especially on these long babysitting gigs. Based on the way some of the guys acted around Street, he could only imagine the kind of bullshit he would have to put up with if they knew. He hated having to hide who he was, but there were some fights he found were easier to avoid than have. This was one of them.

  Messer said good night, then rolled over to face the wall, and eventually drifted off.

  He woke to an out of place sound.

  Marshal Messer’s eyes snapped open at the sound. Without sitting up, he glanced around the room. The clock showed that it was twenty minutes to four in the morning. He could still hear the TV playing in the other room, but the sound that woke him had not come from there.

  He sat on the edge of the bed softly, quietly. He focused, carefully listening for another clue that he hadn’t dreamt the sound that woke him. He slipped his feet into his shoes, then stood and pulled the service weapon from his shoulder holster still dangling from the bed post.

  “Time to get up?” Street asked sleepily from her bunk.

  “Shhh…” he said. “I thought I heard…”

  That’s when the shooting started.


  Read more IN THE WIND at www.patreon.com/bobbynash

  Evil Ways

  Deadly Games!

  Earthstrike Agenda

  Domino Lady: Money Shot

  Alexandra Holzer’s Ghost Gal: The Wild Hunt

  Snow Falls

  Snow Storm

  Snow Drive

  Snow Trapped

  Nightveil: Crisis at the Crossroads of Infinity

  Fightcard: Barefoot Bones

  The Adventures of Lance Star: Sky Ranger

  85 North

  The Avenger Double Feature

  Sanderson of Metro

  Shadows on the Horizon

  The Ruby Files (Vol. 1 & 2)

  Domino Lady: Sex As A Weapon

  And many more. Visit Bobby at www.bobbynash.com for a full list.