Her relationships with men had led to one break-up after another. The problem arose from her longstanding trust issues and only coming into contact with men who were corporate types when she wasn’t a corporate type. She did, however, make a convincing impersonation of one when necessary. At twenty-seven, she was a woman upon whom life had inflicted great frustration. It wasn’t the first time Carringby had caught her daydreaming; always wishing to be taken away to a place of fulfillment. As she handed him the file, she noticed the serial number, XD-47, on the first page. Of late, she’d processed hundreds of papers containing that particular number. She was slightly curious as to its meaning, but the instant Carringby took the file from her, she’d forgotten all about it. He stood before her for a moment, flicking through the pages. Belinda had often considered he would have been potentially handsome in his youth. He was six feet tall with strong gray eyes and sharp, chiseled features. Nevertheless, he was pushing sixty, and even if he hadn’t been, he was still a suit...
As she made her way toward the restroom door, the bottom fell out of her world. An explosion threw Belinda off her feet, taking her breath from her. An earthquake? The sound of muffled machine-gun fire came from the lower floor, and her heart pounded with terror. The gunfire grew louder, echoing through a stairwell until she heard a door burst open. They were on Carringby’s floor. Belinda froze, trembling with the horror of what she could only hear...
With trembling fingers, she pulled it open a mere fraction of an inch and pressed her right eye into the gap. She could barely make out six men in ski masks opening fire upon members of Carringby’s entourage. Her hand came across her mouth to stifle a whimper of terror. Carringby came out of the conference room with his arms raised in surrender, but his look of stoicism remained.
“Where are the blueprints?” one of the assailants demanded. Another gunman kicked open every door along the corridor and aimed his machine gun into the rooms. Satisfied a room was empty, he would move on to the next, and he was coming closer. Panic stricken, Belinda moved away from the door and looked around, trying to locate another way out. If she set one foot through the door, she knew she would be met with a hail of bullets, but there was nothing. No escape. Unless...
~~~
Hold On!
The TV Thriller Series You Can Only Read
By Peter Darley
Nobody can blame me--when an author creates a new hero that is simply unbelievable, I fall in love... This time, his female leading character is almost as good! Of course, he's handsome, intelligent and brave, but this time, he's also quite a surprise--and he doesn't even know it...yet...
“P-please don’t kill me,” she mumbled. “I’m not going to kill—” Belinda passed out. She woke without a sense for how long she’d been out. Had she been unconscious for seconds? Or days? Why was everything upside down? She felt a tight grip on her legs below the knees, and she was moving quickly with a jerking motion. The smoke seemed to clearing, and blood rushed into her head, bringing her back to consciousness. She saw the white surface of the steps from her inverted position, and suddenly understood. He was running up the stairwell while carrying her over his shoulder. Moments later, the ground turned black and she sensed herself being turned upright in the freezing cold. In her dazed state, it took her a few moments to realize she was outside. The stranger knelt down beside her and she shivered. “Who . . . are you?” she asked. “Your only way out of here.”“Yes, I think so,” she said, but her coughing resumed. He waited for the attack to abate before speaking again.
“I’m going to get you out of here. There’s only one way.” As he helped her to her feet, she realized how high up they were with the skyscrapers all around them. “I need you to listen to me,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“B-Belinda. Belinda Reese,” she answered, quivering, and hugged herself tightly against the chilling effects of shock and the brutal February wind.
“All right Belinda, I need you to come over here with me.” He motioned toward the edge of the roof. “There’s nothing to worry about, trust me.” As a show of good faith, he walked toward the edge before her. Once he was standing on the ledge, he reached out and beckoned her to join him. Trembling, she placed one foot in front of the other, but she froze when she saw him taking a gun-like device from his tool belt. “It’s OK,” he said in a reassuring tone. “This isn’t what you think it is. I swear to you on my life, I’m not going to hurt you.”
With great trepidation, she resumed her steps toward him. As Belinda stopped inches away from him at the ledge, he aimed the device toward a skyscraper opposite and brought a small targeting sight to eye-level. Although it bore a resemblance to a gun, it didn’t have a barrel, but rather a tennis ball-sized bulb held fast by his palm. He depressed a button on the top of the metallic casing and a thin, high-tensile steel cable jettisoned from the nozzle toward the building opposite. The cable reached the other side and a small steel claw at the end of line clasped a maintenance rail in the center of the roof. He pulled on the cable to ensure it was secured, and stepped away from the edge. He hurried across to a maintenance stairwell next to the entrance and climbed three steps. Once he was in position, he wrapped the wire around an iron step above him repeatedly. From the height of the roof’s ledge, the step would be approximately twelve inches above his own height. Reaching height. With a flick of a switch on top of the bulb, the cable was locked inside the casing. Belinda watched him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t reply, clearly focused on his task. Returning to her, he took a black metal tube from his belt, approximately fourteen inches in length, and pulled out two.
“Please, trust me,” he implored her. “Can you stand up?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said, but her coughing resumed. He waited for the attack to abate before speaking again.
“I’m going to get you out of here. There’s only one way.” As he helped her to her feet, she realized how high up they were with the skyscrapers all around them. “I need you to listen to me,” he said. “What’s your name?” “B-Belinda. Belinda Reese,” she answered, quivering, and hugged herself tightly against the chilling effects of shock and the brutal February wind. “All right Belinda, I need you to come over here with me.” He motioned toward the edge of the roof. “There’s nothing to worry about, trust me.” As a show of good faith, he walked toward the edge before her. Once he was standing on the ledge, he reached out and beckoned her to join him. Trembling, she placed one foot in front of the other, but she froze when she saw him taking a gun-like device from his tool belt. “It’s OK,” he said in a reassuring tone. “This isn’t what you think it is. I swear to you on my life, I’m not going to hurt you.” With great trepidation, she resumed her steps toward him. As Belinda stopped inches away from him at the ledge, he aimed the device toward a skyscraper opposite and brought a small targeting sight to eye-level. Although it bore a resemblance to a gun, it didn’t have a barrel, but rather a tennis ball-sized bulb held fast by his palm. He depressed a button on the top of the metallic casing and a thin, high-tensile steel cable jettisoned from the nozzle toward the building opposite. The cable reached the other side and a small steel claw at the end of line clasped a maintenance rail in the center of the roof. He pulled on the cable to ensure it was secured, and stepped away from the edge. He hurried across to a maintenance stairwell next to the entrance and climbed three steps. Once he was in position, he wrapped the wire around an iron step above him repeatedly. From the height of the roof’s ledge, the step would be approximately twelve inches above his own height. Reaching height. With a flick of a switch on top of the bulb, the cable was locked inside the casing.
Belinda watched him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t reply, clearly focused on his task. Returning to her, he took a black metal tube from his belt, approximately fourteen inches in length, and pulled out two hand-grips from either side. Belinda noticed a small pulley wheel on the underside of the tube, which he clipped onto the wire. He created a zip-line between the two buildings.
Upon that realization, she panicked, believing he intended for her to hang from the hand grips and glide across to the adjacent building. “I can’t do this. Please, I’m begging you. I can’t do it.”
He stepped back up onto the ledge. “You don’t have to. I do. Now, take it steady and join me here.” She raised her right leg so slowly that she thought she’d never put it down. However, eventually, the tip of her shoe settled onto the ledge. He gently placed his hand upon her shoulder. “All right. I’ve got it from here.” He grasped her under her armpits and lifted her onto the ledge. She trembled with vulnerability and vertigo.
“Oh, God, please don’t let me fall.”
“You’re not going to fall.” He carefully placed her arms around him. She immediately detected the solid base underneath his black, bullet-resistant attire. It was clear that, beyond the Kevlar, he was muscular. It heightened her sense of safety with him.
With shaking hands, she held onto him for dear life. He gripped the pulley with his left hand and lifted the visor with his right. Belinda looked into his deep green eyes. He looked exactly the same as his voice sounded– strong, but kind.
The moment ended and he pulled the visor back down into place. Holding the right hand grip, he looked at her again and gave her the most unnecessary piece of advice she had ever heard:
“Hold on!”
~~~
The fun part of the novel is that our hero's got all the equipment--strange, new gimmicks to help him be a superhero... But he's definitely not a James-Bond type... Especially since he stole them...
There was blood lust in Brandon’s eyes, and it both comforted and chilled Belinda. He was maniacal. He leaped into the air and spun around, throwing his heel into Wilmot’s head before landing in a balanced stance. The agent fell, his face bloodied and his eyes senseless. Never before had she seen such a display of aerial, acrobatic prowess outside of a martial arts movie. It was yet another mystery added to the enigma of Brandon Drake.
~~~
Except his eyes seem to change during the fight, and his whole demeanor changes... Afterward, he doesn't remember what happened, even though evidence of bodies surround him...
At first, Belinda was afraid of him when she saw what he'd done... Then she realized, and accepted, that it was because he was fighting to save her life...
Brandon was there to save Belinda--but only because he was late to have prevented the massacre of all the people on the floor where Carringby's offices were, and where Belinda worked as his secretary...
He had stolen files when he'd disappeared from his job and had discovered that there was a totally organized plan to eliminate specific people/areas...The problem was that he was always in the midst of decoding the files and had already missed the first attack and, now, had been late for the second one.
Except he had discovered Belinda as she was trying to escape and immediately acted to get her out of harm's way...except the escape route was going to also be dangerous--at least in her mind!
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For Belinda, she immediately fell in love with the location, the quiet, and, slowly, with Brandon...
For Brandon, he was very aware of her, but realized he'd possibly placed both of them in danger by bringing her here...
Brandon had no choice but to immediately go back to work, trying to figure out the next target. In the meantime, Belinda was full of questions and wanted to help...
“Well yeah, I guess. They know I have a hell of a lot of their tech. I had to get out of there, so I loaded up the Turbo Swan, and escaped in it.”“What did Carringby have to do with any of this?” “It was on the plans, along with the dates and times. With Carringby, it was all about the XD-47.” “What is that, exactly?”
“What’s what?”
“Those letters and numbers? XD-47? I saw them all the time. What do they mean?”
“They’re just a serial number for a component in a missile.”
Her hand came over her mouth. “Carringby was manufacturing a missile?” she said through her fingers.
“Parts for one, but those thugs didn’t really want it. The army already had the XD-47. They’ve had it for almost a year.”
“So why attack Carringby?”
“They wanted to make it look like somebody else wanted it. It’s an excuse for a war.” The absurdity of what she was hearing both confused and frustrated her, as was apparent from her tone. “Why would anybody want to start a war?”
~~~
Belinda was becoming more and more confused and afraid, asking Brandon to turn to the police. It was then Brandon told her just exactly who he had been working for when he discovered the plans for war... Emphasizing that he didn't know who could be trusted, even the local police might be tied in some way...
To prevent the third attack would be up to Brandon...
Peter Darley shares about his early efforts to publish this book--I'm certainly happy he continued to try after the many possible frustrations that face writers these days... Did you notice his comments about a TV series...Well, I agree with him that it is worthy of being a movie and the first book is packed full of enough action to fulfill the needs of one Season!
Soooo, I immediately went out and got season 2 and pre-ordered season 3. That's how much I'm interested in following the Hold On! series! So, you can be on the lookout for the next two books here at BRH! But, why wait? I highly recommend you start reading Peter Darley...right now!
GABixlerReviews
My lifelong admiration of heroes, and love of roller-coaster-style thrills have been a huge influence on my writings. I am also a professional close-up magician, a keen athlete and body builder, and I live with my wife in rural England.
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