The Service of Wolves

Copyright © 2023 by Matt Sloane. All rights reserved. Published by Blood & Treasure, Los Angeles First Edition This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental. No part of this work may be reproduced or distributed without prior written consent by the publisher. This book represents the hard work of the author; please read responsibly. Cover by James T. Egan of Bookfly Design LLC. Print ISBN: 978-1-946-00853-4 Matt-Sloane.com Vince Carver is persona non grata. As an asset, he's difficult to control. As an operator, he has no equal. Carver may be on the outs with the CIA, but the feds recognize a value proposition when they see one. Sooner or later, his services are always in demand. He gets a shot at redemption when the son of a Mexican congressman is kidnapped by narcos. A newly hobbled DEA with diminished operational resources needs two things more than ever: a solution, and deniability. With Delta Force experience in hostage rescue and no official government ties, they tap Carver for the mission in Tijuana. But the cartels are only half the threat. Working for a politician has its benefits, but uncovering the root of evil in a powerful family is a killer. Carver must take on gun-wielding narcos, militarized special police, and burrow into the depths of an enduring family rivalry. If you go out with wolves, they'll teach you to howl. ★★★★★ "Sensational. A taut thriller that has a great deal more to offer than bullets and brawn." ★★★★★ "The fight scenes are the best you'll find in crime fiction." ★★★★★ "Very real and very very good." Preface I’m Matt Sloane, I like great stories, and I hope you do too. The cool thing about stories is they come in all kinds. Everyone has their opinions and nobody’s wrong. (Which must mean I’m right.) So here’s what I like in a story: Smart dialog between characters that feel real. Spurts of action, moments to breathe, and plenty to think about. Complex plots that aren’t easy to predict, with realistic twists that don’t make your eyes roll. And most of all, a satisfying ending, because you can’t cheap out on those. The Vince Carver books are high action, high intrigue spycraft on the world stage, and I hope they’re your kind of story. If you’d like to get in touch to say hi, offer a correction, talk shop, or otherwise gab, feel free to drop me a line: [email protected] Or you can get an email from me every time a book is released: Get an Email Happy reading, -Matt "If you go out with wolves, they'll teach you to howl." Mexican warning against associating with narcos 1 A rare and fortunate isolation followed Carver on his run along Coyote Creek Trail. The morning air invigorated his lungs while the cloud cover kept the sun from doing its worst. The scenic beauty of the water was so inviting that he extended his usual distance of five miles, content to exercise in a peaceful trance interrupted only by the occasional errant cyclist and ornery duck. Carver caught himself twenty minutes past his mark. He slowed but didn't stop, took a gulp from his water bottle, and turned around to resume his pace. By the time he made it back to the bridge over the creek, a pleasant burn sapped every muscle in his body. He had a few ideas for how to cap off such a perfect morning, but meeting CIA Officer Lanelle Williams was not among them. Under the enclosed metal frame of the pedestrian bridge, Carver slowed to a stop beside the woman and reopened his water bottle. It was a shame, he thought as he watched the creek through the links of the fence. His private paradise had become routine to the point of predictable. He would need to change his habits. "I'm still mad at you," said Lanelle curtly. Carver's heavy hand hung on his hip. "Mad-mad or mad-ha-ha?" "You're not making it better." He killed off the remaining water in the plastic bottle, crushed it, and screwed the cap shut. He hadn't seen the case officer since his debrief some months ago. It was in her nature to only be around when she needed something, which suited Carver just fine. Theirs was a working relationship. At least it had been until Carver veered off-script. "Are you trying to tell me I'm in the doghouse, Laney? Because months of neglect clued me in." "It can't be helped. A few of my colleagues suspect your indiscretions." "Only a few? Isn't that a saying, a few can keep a secret?" "I'm pretty sure that's not right." Carver crossed his arms and leaned on the fence. "I can't believe anyone's crying over a corrupt Russian oligarch." "It's not about crying, Vince, it's about exposure, and there's not enough deniability in the world to pretend you didn't cross a red line. What you did was reckless. It could have come back on us." "Between exploding oil pipelines and misdirected car bombs, there are too many black ops in that corner of the world to keep track of." "Superyachts going down in the Black Sea don't go unnoticed." He tried not to shrug his shoulder. "Lucky for us, bigger boats have since joined it at the bottom." The Moskva may have been a military casualty, but the point was Russia had plenty on its plate to worry about already. Settling a private score wouldn't make the cut. "There's the greater good to think about," offered Lanelle, somewhat opaquely. "I noticed. From where I sit, Ukraine is still under the gun, and Russian citizens are suffering for their government's greed." She shook her head like humanity was a lost cause. "The world has gone crazy. Who would have thought Malkin's death would end up little more than a footnote?" Carver grinned at the characterization. He had said as much to the smug bastard himself. As far as the lack of CIA contact,