by Bentley, Don
The words tumbled off my tongue with none of the eloquence I’d rehearsed, but they had an effect just the same. She stood, hunched against the wind, looking at me as anger warred with hope.
“Truly?”
“Yes,” I said, stepping a bit closer. “I tried to save him, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”
With my admission, anger won.
“Are you looking for forgiveness?” she said. “Is that why you’re here? To ease your conscience? So that you can go back to your life even though mine has ended?”
“No,” I said, for the first time truly understanding why I was standing on this porch, talking to the mother of a boy I’d known for less than an hour. “I don’t want any of that, even if you could grant it. I’m here to tell you just two things: First, your son was a good boy. He might have made bad choices, but he was a good boy. Before he was killed, he asked me to help him escape. To come home. Second, he loved you. He was coming home for you.”
Her dark eyes swam with tears as she searched my face for the truth. I met her gaze without flinching.
After a long moment, she gave a little nod.
“I believe you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I believe you.”
She reached out and touched my face, her fingers tracing the still-fading blue and green bruises, and then, without another word, she ducked back into the house.
The door slammed shut.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I took a deep breath of the crisp winter air and turned from the house to my car, preparing to once again do battle with the gusts of air hammering my head and shoulders. As I started down the driveway, the car door opened, Laila got out, and the untamed breeze stilled.
The sudden calm surprised me, but I guess it shouldn’t have.
After all, wind was a fickle thing.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Some writers are extraordinary craftsmen whose first words put to paper launch them into the publishing stratosphere. I am not one of these people. Instead, I’m a guy who needed seventeen years, an MFA in writing popular fiction, and three failed manuscripts to produce the novel you just read. With this in mind, I have quite a few people to thank.
My growth as a writer, slow as it may seem, can largely be attributed to the amazing beta readers who were willing to read my work and provide their feedback. Many of these folks read and critiqued more than one of my novels and I would not be here without them. They include Kevin Unruh, Tommy Ledbetter, Joel and Michelle Kime, Kelsey and Natalie Smith, and Erica Nichols. Of these amazing people, Erica has read every single manuscript and was kind enough to provide my protagonist’s last name. Thank you, Erica.
As part of my journey, I graduated from the MFA program at Seton Hill University. Everyone there was nothing short of spectacular, but permanent and adjunct faculty members Nicole Peeler, Michael Arnzen, Albert Wendland, David Shifren, Patrick Picciarelli, Vicki Thompson, Maria V. Snyder, and Shelley Bates all helped to make me a better writer. Thank you for your time and collective wisdom.
A number of my fellow Seton Hill students also lent me their expertise as critique partners and confidants. In particular, Randee Paraskevopoulos, Nancy Parra, Stephanie Dunn, Jayme Brown, Laurie Sterbens, Bill Fay, and Dawn Gartlehner were of immense help as I fleshed out the character that would ultimately become Matt Drake. Thank you all.
Second only to my Seton Hill family is the collection of friends and fellow thriller writers I’ve been lucky enough to find, many of whom I first met at the annual ThrillerFest writing conference. K.J. Howe, Josh Hood, Sean Parnell, Ryan Steck, and Brad Taylor were all kind enough to read an early version of Without Sanction. Bill Schweigart and Nick Petrie were also incredibly generous with their time, providing detailed feedback that was both timely and critical. Thank you all.
Someone once said that flying a helicopter consists of hours of boredom interspersed with moments of pure terror. If you substitute despair for boredom, writing a novel is a similar experience. While learning to navigate the despair and terror, I was fortunate to have novelist and Bram Stoker Award winner John Dixon as my copilot. John, I don’t have the words to relay how much I value your friendship and insight. Thank you.
Over the years, I’ve benefited from the collective experience of a number of publishing industry professionals. Matt Schwartz provided hours of insight for the reasonable cost of a beer or three, while my amazing editor, Tom Colgan; his assistant, Grace House; and the entire Berkley team transformed Without Sanction from a rough manuscript into an incredible novel. Also key to this transformation was my fabulous agent, Barbara Poelle, of the Irene Goodman Literary Agency. Barbara is equal parts friend, book whisperer, and force to be reckoned with. This book is better because of her.
Writing Without Sanction would not have been possible without the technical expertise of a number of kind souls. Doctors Kirby Kendall, Myles Gardner, and Danielle Dickinson did their best to explain chemistry to a hapless writer, while Nate Self, Jeff Mishler, Greg Glass, and Brandon Cates helped me understand what it means to live the Ranger Creed. Retired Sergeant Major Jason Beighley took me through a HAHO jump and read an early version of that scene, while Colonel Kelsey Smith reined in the worst of my aerial excesses. Any technical inaccuracies are my responsibility, while anything that rang true is a testament to this superb cadre of subject matter experts.
As a writer of military and espionage thrillers, I’m keenly aware that I stand on the shoulders of giants. This genre is full of stellar authors, and Tom Clancy, Daniel Silva, Vince Flynn, Brad Thor, Nelson DeMille, Brad Taylor, and Mark Greaney have been huge influences on my writing. Thank you all for setting the bar so very high while making the impossible look easy in the process.
Finally, I’d like to thank my family. My three children, Will, Faith, and Kelia, had front-row seats as this dream painstakingly became a reality. Thanks for your patience and for letting your dad disappear into make-believe worlds for hours at a time. I love you guys.
Last but certainly not least, I’d like to thank my wife, Angela. She’s been on this journey with me since the beginning and her faith has never wavered. She’s my first reader, constant source of encouragement, and, most important, the one who never stopped believing. Thank you, baby. Without you, this book, and everything else good in my life, simply wouldn’t be. I love you.
—DON
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Don Bentley spent a decade as an Army Apache helicopter pilot, and while deployed in Afghanistan was awarded the Bronze Star Medal and the Air Medal with "V" device for valor. Following his time in the military, Don worked as an FBI special agent focusing on foreign intelligence and counterintelligence and was a Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) team member.
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