Trafford Publishing: Revenge of the Hero

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Revenge of the Hero

by Rex W. Shuey, Jr.

433 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-1227; ISBN 1-55395-512-9; US$32.50, C$37.00, EUR26.50, £19.00

An action packed thriller set in the backdrop of Italy that pits a reluctant hero against a terrorist group that has killed his wife and are attempting to destroy him. The question begging to be answered is will our reluctant hero be able to piece the puzzle together and find those responsible for his wife's death, or will he become their next victim?

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about the book about the author sample excerpts catalogue info

About the Book

Our reluctant hero has returned and revenge is on his agenda after a car bombing by terrorists kills his wife while they are on their honeymoon in Rome, Italy.
Set in the backdrop of Italy, Michael A. King has returned in this sequel seeking revenge for the terrorist group that have killed his wife and are attempted to destroy him and all those associated with him.
He solicits the help of his long time friend Roy Roper to put a stop to this rein of terror that has been controlling his life since that date back in January 1991 when the Gulf War began.
With each step he takes the terrorists seem to know ahead of time and are waiting to terminate him.
Will our reluctant hero be able to piece the puzzle together and find those responsible for his wife's death, or will he become their next victim?
In a compelling climax thatwill leave the reading gasping, Shuey ends a powerful second novel with a complex hero you will be rooting for.
It is an action packed tale, right up to the surprising finish...a page-turner of nonstop action thatshould leave readers begging for more.

About the Author

After nearly a quarter of a century in the U.S. Army, author Rex W. Shuey, Jr., retired as a Sergeant Major and is now living in Italy with his Italian-born wife, Maria.
Shuey was born in Torrington, Wyoming and raised in Indiana. He entered the U.S. Army in 1962 as a Military Policeman, and served in South Korea, Germany, and Italy, in addition to the United States. He graduated from the Sergeants Major Academy in 1980, and obtained an Associate in General Studies from Central Texas College.

Sample Excerpts

... I felt a popping in my ears, which was odd, but, before I had time to think about it, the explosion shattered the hotel windows knocking me off my feet.
I ran to the window and looked out on the street below. Cars were scattered like dominoes. Three or four were burning. An orange-colored city bus was lying on its side and people were crawling and being pulled out through the windows. In the center of this chaos were the remnants of what was left of my BMW. Fire was curling out of the shattered windows, the hood missing, and the trunk in an open position. Black smoke was rising from the burning tires. Smoke billowing from the twisted metal into the cloudless sky.
I ran down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time and pushed through the lobby into the street. People were screaming, some crying, and others just standing looking at the mass of destruction. I shouldered my way through the crowd into the street, and then ran up to the scene of the destruction.
The stench of scorched metal and smoldering rubber tainted the humid morning, and black smoke rose in twisting vapors to merge with the blue sky and drift shadowlike across the sun. There was the smell of death in the hot, humid air.
A vigile urbani stopped me. "Signore si fermi, e' troppo tardi. Non puo' piu' fare niente'
"What do you mean there is nothing I can do? No,' I sank to my knees. "My God. No.' I screamed.
Two blocks from the scene three men dress in light tan business suits, one carrying a large, black canvas overnight bag, got into a dark blue BMW bearing Padova license plates. Just prior to getting into the car, one of the men stopped, removed his sunglasses, turned around and smiled, looking up at the smoke rising into the sky. He slipped his sunglasses back on, turned back around and got into the backseat of the car. He understood they had missed King, their primary target, but there would be*another day. King's days were numbered. The driver looked in the rearview mirror, nodded to the man wearing sunglasses, and then merged into the heavy traffic and started looking for the directional signs for the autostrada to Florence....

... I took Becky's arm and leaned over and whispered into her ear, "We're being followed. Stay close and follow me.'
She looked at me; eyes wide, then nodded, clutching my arm tighter as we started walking quickly up the street. I glanced over my shoulder as we rounded the corner and Tan and Red Jacket, along with two others were starting up the street behind us. As soon as we were out of their line of vision, I told Becky, "Run.'
We started running down the street, turned at the next intersection, down a yet narrower street, crossed a small bridge over a canal, onto a small street that curved around a building, then abruptly ended.
I looked around and saw a small doorway recessed under a brick archway. I tried the heavy wooden door, but it was locked. We started back up the street, but I observed Tan and Red Jacket along with their two companions crossing the bridge in a half run. We ducked back, just as Tan Jacket spotted us.
"Eccola e' la,' he shouted pointing his arm at us. In his hand he held a weapon.
I flatten myself against the wall and drew my weapon, then turned and grabbing Becky started back down the dead end street. We reached the doorway and I put my full weight against it. But it would not budge. We flatten ourselves inside the brick arch that surrounded the door. I saw her reach into her handbag and removed the small automatic. We both waited in the dark.
A few seconds later I heard them reach the entrance to the dead end street. I peeked out and saw them whispering, then fan out and start coming down the narrow passageway slowly towards us.
One of them spotted me and fired off a round chipping the brick above my head. I took aim and fired off two round at him, heard him moan and drop to the pavement.
The remaining three, seeing the flashes from my weapon started firing in our direction. I ducked back in the archway as rounds begin sailing around us and smashing into the brick walls of the buildings along the street. I saw Becky go down on one knee and through she had been hit, then noticed she was aiming the small automatic and firing. I heard another one of the assassins moan and fall down. I peeked out again and fired two more rounds at Red Jacket. The first round struck him high on the right shoulder spinning him around to the right and the second round stuck him just under the left ear. His head exploded from the impact and he went down with a thud. Tan Jacket, alone now, turned and started running back up the street. I stepped out and took aim. Before I could fire, three rounds went off almost simultaneous, all three striking Tan Jacket in the middle of his back and he fell sprawling on his face and laid still. I looked over and saw Becky in a shooters stance; legs spread apart, arms and weapon extended. She then lowered the weapon to her side and looked over me, her eyes wide. The small straw hat was missing and her hair, no longer in a bun, was spilled down over her shoulders....

... I got up and slipped out the back door. Looking down the side street towards the river, I spied him leaning up against the wall. He had a hat pulled down over his forehead, obscuring his face. I started to move towards him when I heard the scream. I stepped back into the shadows. He jumped and started to run across the street towards the entrance to the bar. I stepped out into the street and level the Beretta and squeezed off three rounds. The first two caught him in the back and the third blew the back of his head off. He fell immediately, his weapon skidding across the cobblestone street. More screams filled the air, along with cries of panic from within the bar and on the street. Because of the angle of the street leading off of the piazza I could not be observed. I crossed the street into an entranceway, to get a better view and waiting for the second assassin to arrive. It only took a few seconds. He came running around the corner and skidded to a stop as he saw his partner lying on the street. He immediately crouched down on his knee and withdrew his weapon, sweeping it at arms length from side to side down the narrow street. I smiled as I watched his reflection in the traffic mirror fasten to the wall above his head. Satisfied that no one was in the area, he turned and placed a finger against his partner's neck. That's when I stepped out on the entranceway and shot him twice in the back of the head. He lurched forward and fell across the body of his partner. I turned around and walked slowly down the street and back over the alpine bridge, tossing the Glock into the cold, swift, Brenta River. I slid off my driving gloves and toss them after it. I walked back to my car and got the cell phone from the glove box. I dialed in Guido's number. He answered on the first ring....

Catalogue Information