A RogueOps Assassins' Novel

Release Date: January, 2022
Pages: 244





The RogueOps saga begins …

Griffin Dunn // SecDef Secretary of Defense.
Davis MacLand // DNI Director National Intelligence.
Jack Rollins // Director of the FBI.

Their committee received Intel that President Alistair Scott and them are on a hit list for assassination. The order originated from the Marxist Communist League, heads of the Davos World Economic Forum.

In a secure presidential SCIF they discuss their options.

“Okay, on point. We bring in USCE top shooters. The United States Constitution and Code Enforcement. The Regular and Irregular Militia. The good guys with guns. America’s last line of defense. And, we bring in RogueOps to oversee all this.”

“Where did you hear about RogueOps?”

“Ah hell, Rollins. It’s good you brought it up. You’re right. RogueOps tracks down and intercepts bad guys for us. Some of your bad actors were on their termination list. Were being the operative word.  Although Hawke oversees USCE they have their own rank and file.

Griffin Dunn paused for a second...

The SecDef grinned... something rare.
“Yeah... A bunch of damned vigilantes is what they are. Their only legitimacy is operating under Hawke’s RogueOps umbrella. The damned toughest soldiers and civilians this nation ever produced.


Equatorial South Atlantic—

Hawke wired a message to his brother.
Gary and his family were on a summer adventure.

Hawke had arranged a rendezvous off the coast of Argentina.

... ...

Logan McKay sat at Atlantic Storm’s TajTel console monitoring local broadcasts. He yanked the headphones off.
“Hey, Hawke! Get over here!
"You need to take this!”

Hawke pulled on a pair of headsets and listened.

“Baltic sloop SeaScape.
"Position 55.37 W, 37.93 S bearing SSW at 18 knots.
"Mayday! Mayday!"

“Hostiles fired on us. They are about to overtake us."

"Repeat! Mayday Mayday! Baltic sloop SeaScape.
"Position 55.37 W, 37.93 S bearing SSW at 18 knots.”


“Gary! This is Hawke!! This is Hawke!!
"You have weapons. Open fire! Open fire!
"I’m on my way. I’m on my way!!”

The Maydays calls kept coming.

“Gary, do you copy? Copy back!”

“Gary! COPY BACK!”



Hawke slammed Atlantic Storm’s throttles to red line. The crew set double headsails and a Genoa. TajTel charted an intercept course with SeaScape a hundred miles from their rendezvous coordinates.

Hawke arrived two and a half hours later.

SeaScape floated listless in the hot afternoon sun.
Her sails lay in a pile on the deck.

The pirates were gone.
Vanished in some unknown direction on the compass.


Atlantic Storm drew closer
Hawke collapsed to his knees and smashed his fists on the deck.
He let out a long, blood-curdling scream.

Gary and the mangled bodies of his beautiful wife, two young daughters and his son hung from the lower mast spreader.

Hawke was helpless to do anything but look at the horrifying scene from the deck of Atlantic Storm.

One Year Later

McChafin blew out a billow of pipe smoke.
“This TajTel data tells me that we located Magus Sammada in the North Atlantic. Northwest of the Madeira Islands. It appears he is in route to the Azores."

Hawke raised his brows.
“Who the hell is Magus? Why do I need to know this?”

McChafin swiveled his leather chair around.
“Magus Sammada killed your brother!”


Hawke stiffened.

“We have a boat named BoxCar. A place a time.
"Interpol tags this guy as an evil piece of work.
"Some sort of big shot Satanist."

"An Interpol top priority for over a year.
"International Narcotics. Weapons and Child Sex trafficking.

"They just can't make anything legal stick."


Hawke stubbed out his cigar in a large brass tray hard enough to shake the table.

"To hell with legal. I'm the law on this!


RogueOps is is born...