by Dave Edlund
Peter nodded. “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” But his demeanor remained gloomy.
Jim placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. They had been through a lot together, and Jim understood how Peter ticked; he accepted that Peter was uncomfortable with taking another’s life. But he also knew that if Peter was pushed into a corner, he would do just that.
“You did good here, Peter. Your actions saved thousands of lives, innocent lives. Women, children, young, and old. I’ve seen what smallpox will do—it’s not clean or pretty. And this strain of hemorrhagic smallpox has a mortality rate exceeding ninety percent. You were forced to do what you did, as was President Taylor. In this case, I’d say the ends do justify the means.”
Peter closed his eyes in thought, his mind swirling with memories and emotions. Quickly they settled on Maggie, her red hair brilliant in the afternoon sun, her face radiant with joy, equally intense in her green eyes and her smile. The scent of pine and water filling his nostrils; his ears registering her laughter. His gazed moved beyond Maggie, to the edge of the lake where Joanna and Ethan, both young children, giggled and splashed in the shallow water.
Then Peter was pouring wine into the cup Maggie held. He saw themselves sitting on a checkered green blanket, in a grassy meadow only yards from the water’s edge. He put the bottle down and then picked up his glass. “If all I ever have is a lifetime with you, I’ll be the happiest man in the world,” he had said.
The words still echoed fresh in his memory.
The sadness and the pain from her loss had never gone away. Her death was like an infection that wouldn’t heal.
Eyes still closed, Peter’s lips moved as he mumbled softly, “What would Maggie have me do?” He didn’t address the question to Jim, didn’t even consciously think that Jim heard him. But he did.
“She would say that what you did saved the lives of children just like Jo and Ethan and saved families the pain of loss that you feel.”
Although Jim had spoken softly, his words jolted Peter back to reality. He opened his eyes, red and glistening. “And that I always will.”
Author’s Post Script
THIS IS WHERE I ISSUE MY standard warning—I urge you to read the story first, and then these comments. To do otherwise will deprive you of some of the suspense that I hope you enjoy as the story unfolds.
One of my goals in writing Deadly Savage was to bring to light the very real risk presented by the existence of smallpox and other biological weapons. These viruses and bacteria—most notably smallpox and anthrax—are horrible diseases. Smallpox is credited with killing more than 300 million people in the 20th century alone.
I chose to focus on smallpox for three reasons. Firstly, there is presently no known cure for smallpox, and certain strains are very deadly. Secondly, humankind has a history of using smallpox (and other bacteria and viruses) as weapons to inflict indiscriminate death and suffering on an enemy population. That the United States government used blankets contaminated with smallpox to infect indigenous Americans in the 19th century is well documented; one tool of many put to use as our government waged a protracted genocidal war against the native population. Thirdly, stockpiles of weaponized smallpox are still held by both the U.S. and Russia.
It is true that smallpox is the only viral disease to have been declared completely eradicated, thanks to a massive global immunization program that was completed in the 1970s. Since then, immunization against smallpox has not been a regular practice. The result is that we now have multiple generations vulnerable to this highly contagious disease.
So why are stores of smallpox still held by the U.S. and Russia? The obvious answer is so that it can be put to use in weapons of mass destruction, although this has been repeatedly denied by our elected leaders. However, an alternative justification that stands up to logical scrutiny has not been offered.
Supposedly these stockpiles are held safely behind multiple layers of security. However, in 2014 several vials containing viable samples of smallpox, along with samples of other infectious (and sometimes deadly) diseases, were found in a cardboard box in an unsecured storage room on the Bethesda Campus of the National Institutes of Health. The smallpox samples were dated 1954. Although we have been assured that samples of the virus are held at only two locations, the CDC in Atlanta and a laboratory in Russia, obviously that is not true.
Have all samples of smallpox, anthrax, Spanish influenza, and other deadly diseases truly been accounted for? Are they really secured? Could terrorist organizations, or rogue nations such as North Korea, acquire such weapons? And if they did, how would we respond?
At the end of the story, I’ve imagined the U.S. President using a nuclear weapon. Hopefully, the characters in this novel have reflected adequately the enormity of such a decision—one I hope is never made. Still, the truth of geopolitics is that there are seldom easy choices, and more often than not one must choose between many evils—which is the lesser?
Equally true, I believe, is that it is the innocents who pay the highest price of conflict. Men, women, and children who have no say in, or benefit from, the reckless actions of politicians bent on acquiring power and wealth—or madmen drunk on religious zeal for the purpose of dominating those deemed unworthy.
If for no other reason, this is why force should only be taken after very careful and thorough deliberation. Sadly, this seems to be a lesson all too often pushed to the margins of national debate.
“Any idea how someone in New York would come into possession of Iranian hand grenades?”
“Well, the obvious answer is your suspect is connected to Iranian military, maybe the Revolutionary Guards.”
Wilhelm had already thought of that possibility. “Yes, but how does he get the grenades—let’s say there were four of them—into this country? It wouldn’t be easy to get hand grenades through airport security; I don’t care what country you’re in.”
“Like I said, beats me. Maybe he’s a diplomat?”
“Iran and the U.S. don’t have diplomatic relations.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you with that one. Give me a call if you have questions of a military nature.”
Special Agent Wilhelm eased back in his chair, deep in thought. How would I smuggle grenades from Iran into New York? If the answer involved secure diplomatic pouches, it would have to be through a government friendly—or at least sympathetic—to the Islamic Republic of Iran. I don’t even know how to begin investigating that angle.
He decided to see what forensics came up with. Maybe the facial images captured by the security cameras would return a positive ID after running through the many data bases maintained by U.S. and European agencies.
Wilhelm sighed. He was a realist, and he knew that short of a miracle, if the facial recognition software came up empty, this case would go cold within a week.
Hunting Savage
Hunting
Savage
a Peter Savage novel
Dave Edlund
Durham, NC
Copyright © 2017, by Dave Edlund
Hunting Savage (Peter Savage, #4)
Dave Edlund
www.petersavagenovels.com
[email protected]
Published 2017, by Light Messages
www.lightmessages.com
Durham, NC 27713
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61153-208-1
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-61153-209-8
Library Control Number: 2016952719
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without the prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or a
re used fictitiously.Dedication
To Eileen, you are everything to me… and so much more.
Acknowledgements
This is the fourth book in the Peter Savage series, and it would not exist without the support and encouragement of you, the readers. Thank you. It sounds trite as I write these two words, yet I mean this from my heart, for what is the point of writing a novel if no one reads it?
There are many persons to acknowledge and express my gratitude to. I’ll begin with my publisher, Light Messages. It has been said that producing a book is a team effort, and I couldn’t agree more. Thank you Betty and Wally for your unwavering support and hard work to expand distribution channels; not only domestically but also in other countries. I also want to acknowledge Kylee and express my appreciation for the amazing graphics she creates and the social media marketing work she puts in on my behalf. And a special thank you to my editor, Elizabeth. Your keen insight and candid feedback contribute immensely to making these stories better.
I also want to acknowledge the generous support from my beta readers for your comments and suggestions, as well as all those who have posted reviews. Thank you.
When it comes to issues of military tactics and technology, I have relied heavily on the expert knowledge of Joseph Linhart (Captain U.S. Army, Retired) and Sergeant Seth Lombardy (U.S. Army). These gentlemen were instrumental in supplementing my research on Army ordinance and especially artillery fuzes, to ensure accurate depiction in this novel.
Finally, two of my long-time mentors deserve special mention; Gary and Gordon. You have each been a driving force behind my writing adventure. If not for the encouragement and honest critical feedback from the both of you, I probably would not be here now, at the keyboard typing these words. Your influence goes beyond my capability to measure.
So, here we are—adventure number four. The plot is mostly set in Bend, Oregon, and the Cascade Mountains just west of Bend. The locations introduced in the novel are real. I’ve wanted to share more of my hometown, and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity. As for the settings along the slope of Broken Top and the edge of the Tam McArthur Rim, these places are very special to me. I’ve spent many wonderful weeks in these mountains hiking, camping, hunting, backpacking. Surrounded by pristine natural beauty, it is a grand location to sit and think—and dream about the next thrilling escapade of Peter Savage!
Author’s Note
By the time Hunting Savage is released, the U.S. Presidential election will be done and over. However, I am writing these words on the eve of the first debate between the major party candidates, and at this point in time the outcome is far from certain. No worries, I’m not going to pontificate on what could have been or should have been. Rather, my objective is to draw attention to the dangers we face in this era of highly polarized politics and strained international relationships.
Although I am speaking without hard and accurate facts, it seems to me that in the years following the financial meltdown of ’08, governance by politicians in Washington continues to set record levels of inaction and disapproval, year after year. At the same time, the bitter rhetoric is continuously ratcheting up. And it’s not just U.S. politicians—we see similar challenges overseas.
The danger is that this bitter divide is a fertile breeding ground for ultra-nationalism. Using fear as a tool, too often politicians strive to drive a wedge between one’s patriotism and common sense. Although fear takes many forms, in Hunting Savage it is the fear of terrorism that is used as a means to justify violence on a very wide scale.
International terrorism has played a prominent role in global policy for several decades. Historically, terrorism has been almost the exclusive domain of marginalized groups fighting for political or religious ideology. Are we witnessing a shift to nations using terror as an overt (rather than covert) action? Is the Russian-backed invasion of Ukraine and resulting proxy war that much different from the actions of IS in the Middle East? And what are we to say of the bombing campaign by both Russia and the U.S. in Syria—with hundreds of thousands of civilians suffering daily from the brutality and death brought about over ideology and politics?
It is easy to prey on one’s fear of violence to win a political election. But what if such tactics are not only used by the candidates? What if such tactics were to be employed by other countries? Outrageous? Perhaps not. With unresolved allegations of Russian hackers trying to gain confidential information in order to influence the U.S. Presidential election, unfriendly nations may already be trying to influence the selection of our leaders.
And what of our allies? We know that the U.S. has not always behaved in a friendly fashion toward its closest allies—getting caught spying on Angela Merkel was bad form to say the least. It’s reasonable to think that some of our closest friends may have agendas not necessarily in line with evolving U.S. foreign or domestic policy. Maybe, just maybe, some of those close allies are willing to play their own version of “dirty tricks” to influence our elections in their favor.
That is the question posed herein.
In a complex world, the truth doesn’t always fit neatly into 15-second soundbites.
–DE
Prologue
Tel Aviv, Israel
November 13, 2015
“I would have never believed President Taylor would sell us out.” Prime Minister David Feldman was angry—and desperate.
Yossi Winer, the National Security Adviser, lowered his head. “The Americans are an ocean away. President Taylor has no idea what it is like to be truly threatened, to live surrounded by enemies.”
Also present in Feldman’s office was his Intelligence Adviser, Benjamin Roshal. “Our agents report that the Iranians will renege on the agreement once international trade is normalized. The primary objective for the Iranians was to regain access to the billions of dollars in currency and assets frozen offshore, and the freedom to sell oil openly on international markets. Once their coffers are full again, their nuclear program will be resumed—almost certainly with the aid of Russia.”
“Russia?” The question came from David.
“Yes. As you know, most of the enriched uranium that was manufactured by Iranian scientists was shipped to Russia.”
“Thousands of tons,” Yossi added. “It is no secret that Russia and Iran have been forging a closer relationship.”
David shifted his eyes to Benjamin. “How long?”
“Until they have an atomic bomb?” He shrugged, calculating the numerous variables. “Within five years if they have to rebuild their key reactors and resume processing fuel. However, if the Russians or Pakistanis help, it could be much sooner.”
“With enough money, anything is for sale,” Yossi added glumly. “Once the sanctions are lifted, the Iranians will have plenty of money.”
“What are the most likely scenarios?” David asked from behind his desk, leaving his advisers standing.
“Benjamin and I have studied this risk in great detail. When the sanctions are lifted—”
“You think there is no hope that we can convince the West to stall?”
“No, sir,” Benjamin answered. Months ago he had resigned himself to the new reality for Israel—the reality of a nuclear-armed Iran.
David raised a finger and swirled it in a circle aimed at Yossi, his signal to continue. “With a few hundred million dollars, Iran can buy a weapon from many sources. Most likely, from a disgruntled former Russian officer. Possibly from the Ukraine. Or, maybe from the Pakistanis.”
Benjamin nodded, his expression dour. “Our agents believe that Hezbollah might be the eager recipient of such a weapon. Iran would be able to deny they had any role in the deal, and Hezbollah has hundreds of loyal soldiers who could smuggle a bomb into Israel.”
“We need to increase the number of radiation scanners at the border crossings,” David said to neither man in particular, but Yossi took it as an action item.
“You cannot guarantee the survival of Israel with radiation scanner
s,” Benjamin said.
David cast a piercing gaze upon his trusted advisor. “And what would you have me do? Iran outnumbers our military four to one. They have a capable navy, as well as sophisticated missile systems. Our nuclear arsenal has been the only deterrent we enjoy. And, if your predictions are accurate, that will soon be nullified.”
“If Iran attacks the homeland, the U.S. and NATO allies will rush to our side,” Yossi observed. Israel had always been a very close ally of the U.S. and most European countries. Ironically, Germany had evolved to be one of Israel’s strongest benefactors, second only to the United States. It seemed that modern German governments were still repenting for the horrors wrought by the Nazis.
“And what good will that be if Tel Aviv is a smoking ruin?”
“Perhaps,” Benjamin offered, pressing a finger to his lips, sensing the time was right, “perhaps, we should think proactively rather than reactively.”
David and Yossi both looked at the Intelligence Adviser. Benjamin allowed a moment to pass, ensuring he had their full attention. “The fathers of Israel would never have allowed such a threat to exist. They would have dispatched it before the threat was material.”
The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting a pre-emptive strike?”
“We’ve done it before,” Yossi said. “Air strikes, sabotage. We’ve even destroyed key reactor parts and uranium fuel being readied to ship from ports in France.”
