Total empire, p.32
Total Empire,
p.32
Hobart set his jaw, ready to bark something, but I held up my hands. “She’s right,” I said.
“Damn right. And that’s why I’m tearing this up. I’ll give Dagger your next mission after you heal up.” She ripped the paper to shreds. “Now walk outside with me, Garrett, please.”
After walking into the bathroom and staring at the mirror for a minute, I joined her and Champollion on the beach. Mahegan and Van Dreeves were already paddling out. Van Dreeves had used a bungee cord to secure the urn to his longboard. A spring cold front had whipped through two days ago and kicked up head-high set waves off the island with a mild west breeze to smooth the surface. They were zipping along a rip current in between sets and out beyond the breakers quickly. Zoey and Hobart held hands in the dunes not far away, her head on his shoulder, perhaps feeling lucky, definitely feeling sad.
Hobart nodded at me, pulling me away from Campbell for a moment. He reached into the cargo pocket of his jeans and extracted a sliver of a rock the size of a smartphone. It was gray and worn, like a river rock. I could see etchings on it like someone had used a sharp tool to engrave.
“Is that Greek?” I asked after studying the rock.
“Randy found it in Sally’s cargo pants. I think she found it in the tunnel where she was killed. Maybe it was what took her an extra few minutes in the tunnel. Got distracted. Not sure.”
“If Sally thought it was important, hang on to it,” I said. “And she saved the mission by finding Sanson before he found us.”
“Roger that,” Hobart replied.
Champollion walked over and looked at it. “This is interesting,” she said. “May I take a look?”
I handed her the stone, which she studied for a minute or two without speaking. I lost interest and watched Van Dreeves and Mahegan on their boards, bobbing in the ocean.
“It’s a cornerstone,” Champollion said. “May I keep it?”
“No. Sally found it. Joe or Randy will keep it.”
She handed me the stone back and said, “It’s significant. The names of Poseidon’s family tree.”
“Good,” I said. I handed the stone back to Hobart. “You and Randy figure out what to do with this. Always respect Sally’s memory.”
President Campbell joined us and said, “Collecting rocks now?”
“Something like that,” I replied, then changed the topic by asking, “How close was it?” The four hypersonic missiles we had dunked in the ocean had missed their New York City targets by seconds.
“It’s still close. The threat hasn’t gone away,” Champollion said. “It’s not safe for me back in France. The world is changing. I’m afraid much larger missions lie in the future. CUSP is still a thing. We avoided this disaster, but we didn’t eliminate the threat.”
As I’d suspected. I watched Van Dreeves and Mahegan sit in the waves, lines of swells on the horizon maybe a minute or two out. They pulled their boards close together and bowed their heads in prayer. Van Dreeves and Mahegan were both spiritual men with a deep connection to nature. Van Dreeves held the urn high above his head as Mahegan reached out and steadied his body and board in the surf. I bowed my head, as did the others.
Van Dreeves opened and tilted the urn, ashes swirling into the wind, some floating upward into the sky and others falling into the ocean, probably how McCool would have wanted it.
Van Dreeves handed Mahegan the empty urn and then paddled into and popped up on the first set wave with ease. He carved a line on the face as the much larger Mahegan followed on a longboard, low and slow, balancing the urn. Soon, they were a couple of hundred meters up the beach, peeling off the wave.
I loved my team with all my being. And I loved the country that made us who we are. I couldn’t say no to a president who was asking me to do my duty, no matter the risk, even if it meant losing Sly and McCool and maybe others to come.
Mahegan had said, “Better to die a warrior than grow old.” Sly had asked for that to be on his tombstone.
Sally had died a warrior. So had Sly. There was some comfort in that.
I looked at Zoey, and Hobart nodded. They gave me reluctant smiles, perhaps the best it would ever get in the future. Zoey was no doubt processing losing her father and the fact that she had been the vanguard on this ultra-classified mission to stop China. The mission that led to Sally’s ultimate death. There was no taking that back, no matter how much we wished she might have lived.
“Boss?” Hobart said, approaching me. The stiff offshore wind tousled Zoey’s black hair as she followed him, her arm looped through his. “Can I have a minute?”
“Of course,” I said. “Madam President. Ms. Champollion. Will you give us a moment?”
The two ladies stepped slowly through the dunes until they were a respectable distance away.
“I just wanted to ask…” He fumbled with the words. I had an idea what he might be wishing to discuss. After all the death and destruction we had faced in the last twenty-five years plus, I figured he wanted something to anchor him. Losing Sally delivered a new reality to our doorsteps. When coupled with the perpetual duplicity of senior government officials, we had to ask ourselves if we weren’t pawns in some larger scheme. The question was, did we wish to participate in the political dance?
“What is it, Joe?”
“With Sly gone—I mean, he’s always with us, but still gone.”
“I understand,” I said.
“You being Zoey’s godfather and all…”
This was not what I was expecting. I smiled. “Nothing would make me happier, Joe.”
“I need to do this formally. It’s important,” he said.
I nodded.
“Will you allow me to take Zoey’s hand in marriage?”
I looked at Zoey. Her eyes had brightened but with an expectant eagerness, as if my answer was in question.
“This what you want, Zoey?” I asked.
She nodded rapidly as she wiped away tears and placed a hand on her stomach. “More than anything,” she said.
“Joe, you have my blessing … as long as…”
“What?” he asked.
I looked at Zoey’s hand on her stomach, as if protecting something.
Zoey caught my eyes and broke into a big grin, nodding and saying, “Yes, General, I’m pregnant.”
“As long as you name the baby Sally if it’s a girl and Sylvester if it’s a boy, then I approve,” I said.
They both laughed. Hobart’s eyes misted for the first time I had ever noticed. They hugged and kissed. The sea oats danced in celebration.
“Sally Sylvester Hobart it is,” Zoey said. “Syl for short.”
I don’t know why, but her comment struck an emotional chord within me. That they could find a path forward through love and new life. Maybe good wins, after all?
Van Dreeves and Mahegan stepped out of the ocean carrying their boards and Sally’s urn. Van Dreeves stopped and watched us. He dropped his head, probably thinking about what life might have been with Sally, raising a family. Mahegan watched his friend, then put an arm around him. Van Dreeves nodded, shook it off, and then walked up to us with a smile.
“This mean what I think it does?” he asked.
“Yes, bro,” Hobart said.
“Randy,” Zoey said. She stopped short of saying anything else. There was nothing she could say. Instead, she hugged him, and they wept together. Campbell and Champollion watched briefly from an adjacent dune and turned around to walk back to Campbell’s house.
Quick movements flashed in my periphery. Black windbreakers with gold letters. Rifles drawn. Coming at us from both sides.
“Hands up! FBI!”
I drew my weapon.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I DEDICATED THIS novel to my parents because they instilled in me a desire, if not an obligation, to serve our country in whatever capacity I could. It is that voice that I think speaks through Garrett Sinclair—an earnest duty to serve.
We lost Dad June 11, 2021, at ninety-one years old, and this is my first book published since his death. My mother left us November 26, 2017, at ninety. The son of Italian immigrants who established a bricklaying business in Detroit in the 1920s, Dad was a high school football coach and thirty-year state delegate in Virginia. Mom was the daughter of a lifelong teacher and a merchant who owned the corner store in Stanardsville, Virginia, where she grew up. The family farm where my parents spent their final years is a mile from Mom’s birthplace on Main Street and near where they met while teaching public school in Albemarle County. They were married for sixty-two years until Mom’s passing.
On June 11, 2021, I had planned a golf outing with Dad, our first time since COVID struck nearly sixteen months before. He could still swing a club at ninety-one—ever the athlete as his University of Virginia football and baseball records demonstrated. As we began the two-day trek to the farm to see him, we received alarming notices that Dad’s health was declining rapidly. We arrived that afternoon, and my sister, as always, was there by Dad’s side. My brother and his wife were racing up from Virginia Beach, their home.
Dad held on long enough for us to tell him what a great man he was and how much we loved him. His grip was signature strong, but he left us a couple hours before midnight on his and my mother’s sixty-sixth wedding anniversary.
Both career public school educators, my parents were proud of the books I have written, and this acknowledgment is a simple thank-you to two great people. I appreciate the support of my brother, Bob Tata, who dutifully managed Dad’s affairs, and my sister, Kendall Tata, who literally improved my parents’ quality of life by a million percent in their final years. Before he passed, one of Dad’s former high school football players turned journalist did a feature in The Virginian-Pilot on him. At the close, Harry Minium quoted Dad as saying, “Enjoy life while you can. And make sure you take care of your children and your wife. Take good care of them. That’s all that really matters.”
Life really is that simple.
Sinclair gets that. He talks about family and the crushing emotions of loss. His arc is one of a man fighting to protect the people he loves while still attempting to perform his duty. Today’s political chasms and information warfare make that task harder than ever, but the missions continue. Duty gives no respite.
I’m most grateful to my editor, Marc Resnick, who has been a dutiful coach, teacher, mentor, and friend. Like the rest of the Macmillan/St. Martin’s team, Marc has been extra supportive during a turbulent past five years and encourages me to continue telling these stories. His stellar editorial assistant, Lily Cronig, is always the voice of reason and juggles all the glass balls effortlessly.
My agent, Scott Miller, continues to coach and mentor me, guiding me in the right direction. I’m thankful for the entire team at Trident Media Agency who row hard for all their authors. It was Scott’s idea to create Sinclair as a protagonist, a seasoned senior officer that juggles family, command, and controversy, perhaps uniquely so.
Kaitlin Murphy-Knudsen, my writing coach and proofreader, did her usual fabulous job. She knows my characters as well or better than I do and I’m thankful that she does.
My support team of Laura, Snowy, and Bandit (new addition) put up with my crazy hours and multiple drafts, and I appreciate them more than I can say.
Lastly, you, my readers, make it all worthwhile. My goal is to entertain, and while doing so have you care about the men and women who are engaged in the story. To that end, I hope I succeeded with Total Empire and that you enjoyed the narrative. I appreciate your support and look forward to delivering you the next Garrett Sinclair saga.
ALSO BY A. J. TATA
Chasing the Lion
Double Crossfire
Dark Winter
Direct Fire
Besieged (Publishers Weekly Top 10 Mystery/Thriller of 2017)
Three Minutes to Midnight
Foreign and Domestic (2016 Barry Award Finalist)
Reaper: Drone Strike (with Nicholas Irving)
Reaper: Threat Zero (with Nicholas Irving)
Reaper: Ghost Target (with Nicholas Irving)
Mortal Threat
Hidden Threat
Rogue Threat
Sudden Threat
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A. J. TATA, Brigadier General, U.S. Army (Retired), most recently performed the duties of Under Secretary of Defense for Policy in the Pentagon. He also commanded combat units in the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions and the 10th Mountain Division and earned the Combat Action Badge and Bronze Star Medal. He is the author of numerous national bestselling novels, including books from the Captain Jake Mahegan and Threat series. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraphs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Acknowledgments
Also by A. J. Tata
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by St. Martin’s Press, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group
TOTAL EMPIRE. Copyright © 2023 by A. J. Tata. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Young Jin Lim
Cover art: helicopter © Stocktrek Images, Inc./Alamy; desert landscape © Garrick Morganweck/
Getty Images; radar © dimair/Shutterstock.com; missile © Mint Images/Getty Images
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Tata, A. J. (Anthony J.), 1959− author.
Title: Total empire / A. J. Tata.
Description: First Edition. | New York : St. Martin’s Press, 2023. | Series: Garrett Sinclair ; 2 |
Identifiers: LCCN 2022035465 | ISBN 9781250281487 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250281494 (ebook)
Subjects: LCGFT: Thrillers (Fiction) | Novels.
Classification: LCC PS3620.A87 T68 2023 | DDC 813/.6—dc23/eng/20220812
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022035465
eISBN 9781250281494
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
First Edition: 2023
A. J. Tata, Total Empire
