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(Call it men's fiction, action-adventure, military thriller or even a war novel...but Hell and Gone is not about Iraq or Afghanistan.) |
DELETED SCENE 2--ROCCO'S HALUCINATIONBlackness closed around Cavarra. The only light came from the sparks shooting off from his brain. Then even those fizzled out and he imagined himself swimming through an ocean of crude oil. Seconds later-or maybe decades-he broke surface. The black goo receded and drained into the sand around him.Gradually the lights and sounds tickling his awareness took on form. Camp Ali was no longer a shell-pocked paramilitary encampment on a God-forsaken turd of a beach. It was now an amusement park, much like Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Only brighter, louder, and with four times the thrills! The Hala'ib Triangle Midway, nestled in a picturesque, tourist-free oasis where the exotic Nubian Desert meets the awe-inspiring Red Sea. Dancing psychedelic laser shows pulse-pointed the path to the Umbrella Ride Into Hell, the Bomb-Spitting Bumper Tanks, the White Phosphorous Grenade Dance and the Death Ship Over the Sea of Doom. Jewel-encrusted pit vipers with straw carnival hats intoned enticements for a chance to win a seat on the ultimate thrill ride of all…the Atomic Fire Catapult to Oblivion. You are parked in Sirhan Saladin 666 and any attempt to skip a ride will result in your immediate beheading. Cavarra tried to focus on his shooter. It was no longer an Arab child, but a far more handsome boy, with his mother's eyes. "Justin?" "Hi, Dad." "What are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same." Cavarra licked his lips, which felt like salty tractor innertubes made of copper. "You should be in training camp, son. It's a great honor to make varsity at your age. Don't start half-stepping now." "Why are you here?" Justin asked. "You're retired--I thought you quit so you could spend more time with me and Jasmine." "I am. I did." Read more. |
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