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Other Books by D.I. Telbat
Arabian Variable, a Covert Action Suspense; eBook
Called To Gobi, an End Times Chronicle; eBook, soon in Paperback
COIL Extractions, a FREE Short Story Collection; FREE eBook
Dark Edge, Prequel to The COIL Series; Paperback, FREE eBook, FREE Audio
Dark Liaison: A Christian Suspense Novel, Book One in The COIL Series; Print, eBook, Audio
Dark Hearted, Book Two in The COIL Series; Paperback, eBook, Audio
Dark Rule, Book Three in The COIL Series; Paperback, eBook, Audio
Dark Vessel, Book Four in The COIL Series; Paperback, eBook, Audio
Dark Zeal, Book Five in The COIL Series; eBook, Audio, soon in Paperback
Distant Contact, Book One in The COIL Legacy; eBook
God's Colonel, an End Times Novel; eBook
Jaguar Dusk, a Christian Special Forces Novel; eBook
Primary Objective, a Christian Rescue Mission; eBook
Sea Scribe, a Covert Christian Mission Suspense; eBook
Soldier of Hope, A POW Survival Story in Afghanistan, eBook
The Legend of Okeanos: A Tale of Restoration, Survival, and a Great White Shark; eBook
Visit Novel Update News for latest news on current and upcoming D.I. Telbat books.
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About the Author
D.I. Telbat desires to honor the Lord with his life and writing. He is recognized as an author of clean, Suspenseful Fiction with a Faith Focus. Because of his love for the Persecuted Church, many of his stories are about persecuted Christians—their sacrifices, sufferings, and rescues. Weekly on his Telbat's Tablet website/blog at https://ditelbat.com, David Telbat offers FREE Christian adventure and suspense short stories, or related posts, which include his novel news, book reviews, Author Reflections, and challenges to today's Christian. Subscribe to receive exclusive gifts and discounts. See David's biography at https://ditelbat.com/about/.
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Contact
https://ditelbat.com/contact/
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~ BONUS CHAPTER ~
Distant Contact
Book One in The COIL Legacy
*~ NEXT PAGE! ~*
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Bonus Chapter
Distant Contact, Book One
Mediterranean Sea
Titus Caspertein sat shoulder to shoulder and knees to back amidst six hundred Asian and African refugees on a seventy-foot boat meant to carry a maximum of forty souls. He wore a hood over his head, his Egyptian burnoose still on his back, hiding his features as best he could. There were other foreigners on board—Lebanese, Eritreans, and Syrians who sought illegal entry into Europe, even though they'd launched from Libya.
Oleg sat across the boat from Titus. The ugly, scarred man was Titus' only backup on board the human trafficking boat—a boat of death, since it was unlikely they'd ever reach Italy so overloaded. It was these kinds of risks for others that had taught Titus the true meaning of sacrifice. With Oleg beside him, they had learned in six months what would've otherwise taken them six years.
The two made eye contact, then Oleg looked away. Normally light-hearted, even on missions, they had no reason for amusement on this day. Their relationship needed to remain a secret until the smugglers abandoned the immigrants to die at sea.
The boat rocked against waves, and bodies shifted awkwardly on deck. If the boat capsized, Titus doubted he'd survive the ocean unless he swam straight down to get away from the mass of humanity.
Glancing again at Oleg, he saw him share his couscous bread with men and women around him. The steamed, cracked wheat was received with thankfulness. Titus drew his own lunch from under his robe. Since he daily gave his life to others, sharing his food wasn't a struggle.
With one hand, Titus offered couscous to the men behind and beside him, and a woman who sat against his legs in front of him. He dared not turn around to look at the armed men at the back of the boat. They'd ordered everyone to face forward. The smugglers didn't want to be identified later, if someone happened to live long enough to be rescued by the Italian Coast Guard. Nevertheless, Titus kept one hand on the trigger under his robe.
Upon joining COIL, Titus had met with engineers and designed a new non-lethal weapon series, as well as other technology. The new non-lethal rounds could be fired from a regular firearm of the right caliber. With Corban Dowler overseeing, Titus had arranged for .22 caliber, nine-millimeter, and .308 cartridges. Thus, Titus carried a nine-millimeter handgun, customized with a twenty-round magazine and a built-in silencer.
The tranquilizer ammunition carried a heavier punch than the old NL series of pellet ammo. Each new round had a gelatin base, with a half-inch tack inside the gelatin, and was shaped like a regular bullet. On impact, the gelatin toxin flattened against the skin of the target, and the tack was thrust forward to puncture the skin. The results were a bruise and an hour of unconsciousness. Using guns and ammo that saved lives was a long way from Titus' selfish days of gun smuggling and radioactive weapons deals.
Morning stretched into afternoon. A child cried behind him, but Titus still didn't turn around. The single motor hummed, propelling the derelict vessel northward, probably toward a predetermined GPS coordinate. The smugglers would leave the boat soon, when they were picked up by another. It would happen before Italian authorities could apprehend the extortionists and murderers.
Some of the refugees had been searched before boarding, but Titus and Oleg had boarded early and scowled threateningly. The three smugglers, two with rifles, hadn't bothered them. Weaker people hadn't been as fortunate, but Titus hadn't reacted. His cover was required to put a stop to the dead bodies washing up on the shores of Europe and Africa.
"You English?" the man on his right asked. He was black and wore a t-shirt and khaki pants. No one else seemed to be talking on board, but the weeping and churning of the sea covered their guarded words.
"Yes, I speak English."
"I translate for tourists in Asmara." He gestured at the woman against Titus' knees. "My sister. This is my family now. Wife, children, all dead."
"Famine?" Titus asked.
"Prison. Killers of Isa followers. Most of us here are believers. You follow Isa?"
Titus browsed the people around him without moving his head. He'd been with COIL for only a year, so he often came face-to-face with grave truths he'd never heard of before. A boat full of Christians, fleeing persecution? No wonder COIL had arranged for a couple operatives to shut down the dangerous smuggling ring. Corban had told him how smugglers were killing hundreds each year once the immigrants paid their fare, which was as much as fifteen hundred dollars per person. It made Titus' own concerns about his cancer seem small in comparison.
"Yeah, I'm a follower. For one year now."
"It is hard today." The man bobbed his head. "Soon, Isa must return."
"I pray so."
Titus wasn't sure whether he should rejoice or grieve over meeting his Eritrean brother. This man truly had no home. He would reach Italy, because Titus and Oleg would make sure the boatload did, but then what?
Plastic jugs with water were passed around. The smugglers yelled a warning in Arabic that there would be no more water until the morning, but Titus knew the smugglers had only loaded four jugs. There would be no more water at all, unless some of the immigrants had their own water, which was unlikely since those who carried anything on their person carried only their belongings.
Night fell, but Titus didn't join his neighbors in sleep. He kept his head low, as did Oleg, hoping not to draw the smugglers' attention.
The watch on his wrist vibrated. Hiding his arm in his lap, he pulled up his sleeve to read a text message from COIL tech Marc Densort: "Boat. ETA: 20 min."
Titus tapped the touch-screen of the watch. It blinked to GABE, or Gabriel mode. Three stealth UAVs seventy miles overhead watched over him with high resolution cameras. Circling
his finger on the screen, the view zoomed in on his location, closer and closer. His boat was a dot on a field of black sea. To the southwest, another single white pixel raced toward them.
He zoomed in on the racing pixel, larger and larger, testing the limits of the new COIL overwatch system—until he could see the speedboat approaching from Tunisia. Switching to thermal imaging, he saw two glowing signatures identifying two humans on board.
With the necessary intel gathered, he covered his watch and coughed loudly into his hand. A few yards away, Oleg lifted his head—a shadow against the dim horizon.
"Two!" Titus sneezed. "Two!"
Oleg clicked his tongue twice. Message received.
Again, they waited, listening for the faintest sound of a motor in the distance. Having known Oleg for some time, even before they were friends, Titus knew he could count on the trained agent. The man had been lethal as an Interpol officer, but now as a Christian, with the Spirit of Christ compelling him, Titus trusted Oleg with his life.
There! The speedboat motor revved and faded in and out, bouncing over the waves. Titus drew his handgun from its shoulder holster as he turned around. Leaning on his free arm, he aimed and fired three times, tranquilizing two smugglers. Oleg fired twice, taking out one more. The three men slumped to the deck as Titus jumped to his feet, nearly fell over from a thigh cramp, then stumbled through sleeping refugees to the stern where the motor hadn't changed its pitch.
Oleg met him there as they assumed the position of the smugglers. Titus used his foot to scoot the two dropped rifles to the side of the deck. He reached down, grabbed both rifles slings, and tossed the weapons overboard.
No one on deck stirred.
"Hey," Oleg called over the rumble of motor. "You think we'll ever get tired of doing this?"
"For these people?" Titus shook his head and smiled. "Not a chance."
The speedboat pulled along the starboard side. Oleg leaned over and fired five times.
"Done," he said, and started to reload. "Two down."
"That's a nice boat. Are you just going to let her drift away?"
Oleg gazed after the other vessel as it dropped into the wake of the larger boat.
"I'm not jumping in."
"You're the one who shot them before they tied on. Use their radio to call in the Coast Guard."
"Use your watch."
"We're getting father away . . ."
"I'll have some choice words for you when I return." Oleg stripped off his burnoose and thrust his gun into his holster. "You know I don't like to bathe more often than you. It makes you feel inferior."
Titus didn't get a chance to respond before Oleg dove overboard and swam for the idling speedboat now one hundred feet off their stern. Instead, Titus prayed he remembered moments like these, not only for himself, but to share with Annette and other Christians in America. He tried to return to the States every few missions, but the demand for his expertise was high. When he could be home in New York, he cherished his days with Annette, however short they were.
COIL operatives everywhere, for the sake of Christ and His sheep, had to make sacrifices.
~ The end of Distant Contact Bonus Chapter ~
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