The Captain's Mission. Debby Giusti
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“No one leaves until I give the order,” said U.S. Army Captain
Jean Philipe Thibodeaux.
The sergeant nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Footsteps sounded to Phil’s left. He turned and spotted Agent Jamison Steele walking purposefully toward him. If Jamison had been assigned to investigate the training incident, Phil could breathe a sigh of relief.
Phil turned to the CID agent. “You’ve been assigned the case?”
“Negative. I’m here to secure the range and assist Major Hansen.” Jamison looked over his shoulder toward the bleacher area. “Special Agent Kelly McQueen will be handling this one.”
Phil’s heart thumped against his chest as he followed Jamison’s gaze and recognized the very determined complication walking toward them.
A number of guys called her the Ice McQueen. That, coupled with the fact that she’d won the Outstanding Marksmanship Award, was off-putting to some.
Biting down on his jaw, he steeled himself to the ironic twist of events. Phil didn’t need the Ice McQueen in his life. No matter how attracted he was to her.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy The Captain’s Mission, book two in my Military Investigations series. The story deals with the importance of family and especially the role fathers play in their children’s lives. In my writing, I often explore how hurts in the past hold us back in the present and keep us from being free to embrace the future.
U.S. Army CID Special Agent Kelly McQueen and Captain Phil Thibodeaux have a lot to uncover about their pasts. Working together as they investigate a training accident at Fort Rickman, Georgia, Kelly and Phil learn about love and acceptance and the healing power of God’s forgiveness.
I hope you’ve experienced God’s healing, whether physical, emotional or spiritual. If you’re still troubled by unresolved problems, turn to the Lord in your need and ask Him to lift the burdens from your heart.
I always enjoy hearing from my readers. Write to me c/o Love Inspired, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279. Visit me online at www.DebbyGiusti.com, blog with me at www.seekerville.blogspot.com and join my Prayer Team at www.crossmyheartprayerteam.blogspot.com. Watch for the next exciting book in my series, coming soon to a bookstore near you.
Wishing you abundant blessings,
About the Author
DEBBY GIUSTI is a medical technologist who loves working with test tubes and petri dishes almost as much as she loves to write. Growing up as an army brat, Debby met and married her husband—then a captain in the army—at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful army brats of their own and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of suspense that touch the heart and soul. Contact Debby through her website, www.DebbyGiusti.com, email [email protected], or write c/o Love Inspired Suspense, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001 New York, NY 10279.
The Captain’s Mission
Debby Giusti
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This book is dedicated to
our brave men and women in uniform,
to Jesus who inspires me,
to my family who loves me,
to the Seekers who support me.
Thank you to my editor Emily Rodmell
and my agent Deidre Knight.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy;
I have come that they may have life,
and have it to the full.
—John 10:10
ONE
“Cease fire!” U.S. Army Captain Jean Philippe Thibodeaux screamed into the handheld radio microphone from inside his Bradley Fighting Vehicle. The order echoed back to him as the “cease fire” was relayed across the live-fire range to the three platoons involved in the training exercise at Fort Rickman, Georgia.
Under Phil’s command, his two-hundred-man company of soldiers had advanced on a series of targets representing enemy strongholds. The men had maneuvered for nearly an hour, firing live rounds that ripped through the cardboard facsimiles of enemy soldiers while the unit’s heavier weapons shot at mock-ups of armored personnel carriers and enemy tanks. The mission had gone like clockwork with nary a glitch, but only minutes before the completion of the exercise everything had come to an unexpected halt.
Heart hammering in his chest, Phil leaped from the Bradley from which he had led the attack and ran toward the small rise on the so-called battlefield where a group of men clustered. Behind him, the executive officer and First Sergeant Jerry Meyers followed Phil’s lead.
A frenzy of activity erupted as men exited their vehicles. Foot soldiers stopped their forward advancement and looked around as if trying to find a reason why the attack had been halted.
In the distance, a field ambulance raced along the rugged terrain and screeched to a stop near the small rise. A team of medics disappeared into the sea of camouflage uniforms that had gathered.
Moments earlier, the blasts of 25-millimeter chain guns and the staccato fire of the M-4 carbines had filled the February evening in a mounting crescendo until the captain’s order halted the Bradleys and suspended the battle.
The governor of the State of Georgia and his entourage as well as military personnel from post and a select group of local civilians had watched from the reviewing stands and bleachers as C Company, Second Battalion, Fifteenth Infantry—Phil’s company—had advanced on the targets.
One face had stood out from the crowd. Special Agent Kelly McQueen was blonde and blue-eyed and had been assigned to guard the visiting dignitaries. Along with the military police, Agent McQueen was, no doubt, currently directing the VIPs out of the reviewing stands and escorting them into vans parked by the roadway. Without delay, she would escort them to the airfield on post where a plane waited to fly them back to Atlanta.
In similar fashion, the crowd of onlookers in the bleachers would be herded aboard buses for transport back to the main post area. Every effort was being made to maintain calm and order. No one wanted panic to ensue or to alert the public that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. The falling darkness and mass of soldiers gathered around the incident site would keep curious eyes at bay.
God willing, no one would realize the magnitude of the problem downrange. Not that Phil would count on the Lord. After everything that had