(Call it men's fiction, action-adventure, military thriller or even a war novel...but Hell and Gone is not about Iraq or Afghanistan.)
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 17
There was a commotion outside, then someone burst into the church.
He swung something down toward the floor and released it to go sliding across the church, as if bowling. It was a 24-pack of German beer. He looked around frantically for the pile of his gear.
Cavarra put away his notebook. "Mind telling me where you've been?"
"No time...!" panted the African merc. "Village...under attack...halftrack...armored cars...heavy weapons...coming from the north..."
"Slow down, man," DeChalk said. "What'd he say?"
Cavarra heard what he'd said. But was it for real?
"At ease!" Lombardi cried. "Listen!"
They all listened. Cole shouted something from the rooftop. Cavarra and Lombardi rose with rifles in hand. Cavarra, Lombardi, Terrell and DeChalk poured out of the church and looked up.
Cole looked down at Cavarra, eyes bulging out of his bulldog face. "You expectin' company, suh?"
Inside, Campbell hastily donned his web gear, grabbed his M21 and loaded a round in the chamber. He removed the magazine, dug a .308 round out of his pocket and topped off the 20-round box before locking it back into the rifle. He looked for his bush hat, found it, and slapped it on his head.
Siyr finished strapping on his own gear, grabbed the rifle nearest him and looked around for ammo. He saw a stack of loaded magazines and stuffed them into his mag pouches.
Outside, Cavarra yelled up at Cole, "What is it?"
"Light armor," Cole said. "I see four...five vehicles...maybe more. Comin' straight at us!"
"How long before they're here?" Cavarra asked.
The sound of automatic weapons fire answered him.