Author's pledge to readers: "Fast paced, intelligently-crafted plot and well written, plus color photos and live Internet links to videos and relevant information -- an eBook that offers good value!"
VANCOUVER: Cities are dangerous places for cops in a war against a new breed of vicious criminals armed with assault weapons and with with no compunction for who gets killed. Outgunned police have to get creative to survive.
Newton's Law pits Vancouver cop Riggs Becker in a life-and-death chase with a psychopathic Russian mob boss. Driven near insane after his family is brutalized and his partner kidnapped and bound for an Asian sex slave market, an enraged Becker seeks retribution. But stripped of gun and badge, he's alone and exposed.
Unexpected help comes from an eccentric genius billionaire with an agenda of his own and aided by retired special forces types who can even a treacherous playing field. Nonstop action climaxes with a 9-11-scale showdown and in keeping with Newton's Law of life and physics: every action has an equal and opposite reaction. In a world where the law moves too slowly or not at all, men sometimes have to make their own laws. In GUN, transgressors pay, and the price is high.
GUN is ripped from the headlines, making fiction indistinguishable from facts: nearly 12,000 people are murdered with guns each year in North America -- 33 each and every day. The book features live links; just click to see the weapons in action. Also video footage of real-life shootouts on camera, and articles on gun violence, the global sex trade, and more. Nonstop action, mob mentality, gritty confrontations, and unexpected twists and turns.
He came in wind milling, arms churning in wide, fast overlapping arcs that made both offense and defense risky. Only the best fighters can maintain balance and body protection with this tactic, and he was good.
How long did she have and what did that bloody alarm mean?
When you weigh 110 pounds and a trained opponent weighs 200 plus, you don't meet force with force, simple physics--you probably lose. You can, however, meet force with something hard.
She grabbed the thin LCD computer monitor, turned it sideways like a Frisbee and flicked it at him. It still had cords attached and never made it to his head, but it did break his windmill cadence and drew his attention to the flying object instead of her for a millisecond.
She crouched and moved in close, very close under his guard, her face even with his crotch. Then she shot up, her legs pistons to drive her cupped hand in and under his chin, dislocating the jawbone and short circuiting the bundle of nerves that connect body to brain. He went stiff.
Just as quickly, she dropped again, plunged her right hand between his legs, then twisting her body weight back from the right shoulder, her fingers clawing, raking past his scrotum as her left hand moved down, the two meeting in a vicious smashing vice that squashed his manhood in her palms, her father's move: "Reap the twig and berries."
The nut smasher was unnecessary. The Russian was out from the straight arm to the jaw, but her training for inside do-or-die fighting was: "Never one blow, strike, strike, strike, until it's over!"
The big Russian crashed to the floor.
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