Mel Odom - Apocalypse Dawn

This is the most successful Christian-fiction series ever.

-Publishers Weekly

Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins are doing for Christian fiction what John Grisham did for courtroom thrillers.

-TIME

The authors style continues to be thoroughly captivating and keeps the reader glued to the book, wondering what will happen next. And it leaves the reader hungry for more.

-Christian Retailing

Combines Tom Clancy-like suspense with touches of romance, hightech flash and Biblical references.

-The New York Times

Its not your mamas Christian fiction anymore.

-The Dallas Morning News

Wildly popular-and highly controversial.

-USA Today

Bible teacher LaHaye and master storyteller Jenkins have created a believable story of what could happen after the Rapture. They present the gospel clearly without being preachy, the characters have depth, and the plot keeps the reader turning pages.

-Moody Magazine

Christian thriller. Prophecy-based fiction. Juiced-up morality tale. Call it what you like, the Left Behind series now has a label its creators could never have predicted: blockbuster success.

-Entertainment Weekly

Covered in three days worth of perspiration, filth, and fine yellow dust, First Sergeant Samuel Adams Goose Gander knelt beside the river that cut through the harsh land of southern Turkey. The stream was muddy brown, low for the season. Fish nearly as long as his arm swam slowly through the water.

Goose leaned forward and filled his canteen, wishing for cooler weather. He popped two water purification tabs into the canteen and shook it.

Then one of the fish hed been watching jerked violently. Blood sprayed from a huge wound that ran through the creatures side. Water jumped from the river only a few inches from the dying fish, seeming to hang frozen in the air for a split second. A rainbow flashed through the spray and Goose knew a bullet had caused the splash.

Sniper! Goose yelled to his squad as he dove for cover. A second bullet slammed the metal canteen from his hand, leaving his fingers numb from the impact. Goose landed behind a shelf of broken rock.

The Rangers working the water supply detail flattened out against the harsh terrain immediately. Some of them ducked in behind the Hummers and cargo trucks and the big water-pumping unit.

Then the sound of three rifle reports rolled over their position.

Anybody see anything? Goose yelled.

Nothing, Sarge.

Thomas? Goose asked over the headset. Cliff Thomas was the team scout.

I dont see anything, Sarge.

Thats a heavy-caliber rifle, another Ranger said. The sniper could be set up as much as a mile away.

Goose scanned the broken mountains in the distance to the south. Anybody hit?

A chorus of nos followed.

Goose breathed a sigh of relief. Syrian snipers had been something of a problem, but so far he hadnt lost any of his men. More shots ripped into the river. Two dead fish floated up in response.

Goose didnt think the shooter was actually aiming for the fish. The creatures were unexpected casualties. But the effect was a sobering one. It was a message of sorts, warning shots fired across the bow of the United States Rangers assigned to the area.

Switching frequencies on the headset, Goose said, Base.

Go, Phoenix Leader. You have Base.

Ive got a sniper hosing my water detail, Goose said. I cant find him. Can you assist?

Affirmative, Leader. Base is looking. Base was the central Ranger command post. The intelligence teams there had access to spy satellites that could peer down into the country and read the time off a mans watch.

Goose remained pressed into the hard earth, feeling the heat soaking into his body. He listened as Base maneuvered their own sniper team into position.

Got a line on your troublemakers out there, Leader.

Affirmative, Base. Patch me through to the sniper team. Goose breathed out, blowing dust from the baked grit covering the bare areas where vegetation had given up the struggle to survive.

Phoenix Leader, this is Sniper Team Romero.

Good to have you there, Romero. Can you confirm Bases report of one hostile sniper team?

Not only confirm it, Leader, but were in position to cancel their pass to the party.

Negative on the cancellation, Romero, Goose replied. The Syrians are baiting us. None of my team has been hit. But I wouldnt mind seeing them sit out the next few dances. Sliding his M-4A1 to the side, he took out his 10X50 binoculars and had the Ranger sniper team direct him to the hostile shooters location.

After a brief search, Goose found the enemy team-a shooter and a spotter-stretched out on a rocky outcrop in the jagged mountains to the southeast. No one else was around. The digital readout on his binoculars estimated the distance at a little less than a mile.

Romero, Goose said, I have our sniper team in sight. Send them on their way.

Affirmative, Leader. Well send them packing.

An instant later, rock jumped from the outcropping around the two Syrian soldiers. They jumped for cover, obviously not expecting to be found so quickly.

The other Rangers cheered the sniper team on as they reported, Leader, your water detail is clean and green.

Understood, Romero. Thanks for the assist. Goose put his binoculars away and stood. He took up the assault rifle and felt fatigue eat into his bones.

Glancing at the dead fish floating on the river, he was reminded of an old army axiom, the military version of Murphys Law: It isnt the bullet with his name on it that a professional soldier has to fear; its all those that are addressed To Whom It May Concern.

The 75th Ranger Regiment was stuck between a rock and a hard place. And it seemed more than their share of trouble was looking for them.

TurkishSyrian Border

Death stalked the invisible line that separated Syria and Turkey.

Goose peered through his binoculars and adjusted the magnification as he scanned the border. He knew the balance that kept three armies from each others throats was so tenuous that any change might tip it the wrong way. Even a shift in the slow, dry wind might trigger renewed hostilities. The hatred between the Turks and the Syriansponsored Kurdish terrorists had existed for too many generations to count. And Goose knew that the Turks American allies would be in the thick of the fighting, no matter who started it.

The early morning light hurt Gooses eyes, and the rocks and sand around him absorbed the suns rays and steadily rose to baking temperature. By midafternoon, he knew from hard experience, the and land would be almost unbearable.

For the last seventy-two hours, he and C Company had been on constant alert in full battle dress, camped in the harsh, barren plateaus overlooking the border. Hed been awake for so long that sleep was a distant memory. The exhausted man inside him had no place here. The professional warrior had to stay sharp.

Despite the circumstances, hed taken the time to stay cleanshaven, although he hadnt foisted the same expectation on his men. Leadership was often as much about image as about substance. A shade less than six feet tall, with wheat-colored blond hair that almost matched the desert around him and a body disciplined by nearly two decades of military training, Goose looked like a soldier. He kept his hair cropped high and tight, but sand still found a way to burrow into his scalp, where it itched furiously. Just one more irritant he had to ignore. The dry heat pulled at the half-moon shrapnel scar that ran from his right eyebrow to his cheekbone. The scar was less than six months old and still felt tight.