Kevin Alexander
Brush fires plague the green beauty of many a forest across the world. Both present technology and manpower are exhausted and losing fast to this relentless scourge. Enter the Bureau Against Natural Disasters.
Braddock Steele returns with his heroic entourage of Richard Ford and Don Gardner to take up the fight.
The Band has acquired a new pilot: Charlie Hawk; and a new plane: the Optima. With veteran member Veronica Vasquez at the console in the control tower, she navigates Hawk through amazing flight patterns in the stratosphere and even more dangerous uncharted courses of emotion and romance.
Lauren Wang is back too with new technological breakthroughs to up the game in the Bureau’s quest to conquer the elements gone wild.
Join the Band in their new adventure and see why they are -- Mortal Heroes!
Kevin Alexander is always game to fast-paced action, off-the-wall techno rambling – and a good old sappy mellow drama! Here, he launches that speed, detail and emotion through a cast you’ll be fond of in the end.
Kevin lives with his wife in New York City.
This is his second book.
The following scenes are not necessarily in immediate, chronological sequence...
"Vixen," the pilot speaks from within the cockpit, his sleek cobalt blue helmet on and tinted visors down over his eyes, "engines are at full operating level. Launch sequence is engaged. Requesting clearance for takeoff."
Up in the control tower on the other end of the airfield, a young, attractive Spanish woman with long wavy dark brown hair, the prominent bangs cascading down to one eye, sits at the control console. Veronica Vasquez’ head is donned with a sleek lightweight headset consisting of a headband, an earpiece with attached stem extending around to the front of her lips, a tiny microphone capping the end of it. She takes a quick check of the controls on her console, then looks up and out through the huge windows of the control room. The fire red glare of the sky floods in, gently washing against her smooth even toned face, while the sun itself reflects vibrantly in her large bright eyes.
"Roger that." She replies. "You look good from up here." Her voice is pleasant and deliberate. "Optima, you are cleared for takeoff."
"Roger. Optima moving out."
The aircraft is blue in color, cobalt blue like the pilot’s helmet, with a high polished shine that reflects very well in the light. From nose to tail, the plane is about the length of three midsize cars.
The pilot grabs the gear stick with his right hand, his left already holding the steering stick steady. He revs the gas pedal and the twin engines begin to scream at a high pitch, the afterburners flaring, and the noise resonating across the entire airfield.
The pilot shoves the gear stick forward and comes down easy on the gas pedal, easy up off the clutch as well. The twin afterburners nonetheless explode through the back ends, bursts of fire shooting straight out of them. The Optima rockets down the runway, the ground underneath it vibrating.
The pilot eases the steering stick toward him and the nose of the aircraft kicks up. He comes all the way down on the gas pedal and the Optima blasts off into the air, the flaring engines racing and the noise booming back down to the airfield.
"Vixen," the pilot’s voice is deep and confident, "I’m now at 15,000 feet. Leveling out."
"Roger that, Optima. You should see your lead marker dead ahead."
He gazes far out into the distant sky ahead of him, the vastness of the orange and red expanse filling his panorama. He catches sight of a small object in the distance, perhaps a good mile or so out...
...The island of Oahu sits majestically in the middle of the Pacific Ocean surrounded by its family members like Kauai and Maui. On the northern tip of Oahu, columns of black smoke ascend into the air. Below at the source are lush green forests burning bright against the darkening evening sky.
"Whoa!" The pilot of the Optima exclaims. "Isn’t that the scariest campfire you’ve ever seen?"...
...At the large conference table, sit Veronica Vasquez and Charlie Hawk. With his flight helmet now off, his full image is clearly visible. Charlie is young, in his late twenties, and clean-shaven. His hair is jet black and though cut short, still long enough to allow for large waves which spill out over his forehead. The look in his eyes is sharp and he bears an overall serious demeanor.
"You’re an excellent navigator." Charlie responds. "How long have you been doing this?"
"I just started. This mission was my very first." Veronica admits with a smile. "But I understand this kind of flying is nothing new for you, Mr. Hawk."
"Do we have to be this formal around here?" Charlie is pointed yet still pleasant.
"No," Veronica hesitates, "but it is sort of an unspoken rule."
"Ms. Vasquez, I insist you don’t call me "Mr. Hawk". I hope I’m not being too forward by saying that."
"Well, I personally don’t have a problem with that, Charlie." She resumes smiling. "I don’t like having to be so stiff myself."
"Thank you, Ms. Vasquez." And Charlie leans back in his seat looking very relaxed.
One of Veronica’s eyebrows suddenly cocks up. "So why do you keep calling me ‘Ms. Vasquez’?"
"Well, now that you mention it…"
"Oh please! As if you weren’t trying to hint that I should spell out to you to call me ‘Veronica’!"
"Veronica is a nice name." Charlie slowly nods. "I hope I’m not out of line in saying that either." He pauses. "I’m going to stop now, for fear you might file charges of harassment against me."
Veronica bursts out laughing again. "It’s not harassment when the guy is really cute." She suddenly catches herself. That last statement was not supposed to slip out, but it’s too late now.
Charlie raises an eyebrow.
"I’ll stop now too." Veronica bites her bottom lip and dips her head in an apparent blush...
