THE UVALDE RAIDER
A Templar Family Novel
BY BEN H. ENGLISH
Publisher: Creative Texts Publishers
Publication Date: April 17, 2021
Pages: 229 Pages
Categories: Historical Fiction / Military / Texas
The time is the eve of the First Gulf War. The place an abandoned World War II emergency landing strip for heavy bombers, nestled amid the near countless miles upon miles of wide openness in West Texas.
Here a climactic battle will be fought, while the rest of the world focuses on what would become known as Operation Desert Storm.
But in some ways, the stakes here are even higher as men from other places and past conflicts gamble all that they are, and all they ever were, to prevent a catastrophic terrorist attack unthinkable before on an American city.
One group seeks wholesale slaughter, the murder of helpless civilians on a massive scale. The other strives to stop this evil in any way possible, and by whatever means necessary.
The key to either side’s success or failure?
One old Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress, an enduring symbol from another war and ensuing catastrophe of a different era. This relic of a not so distant past is named ‘The Uvalde Raider,’ and this is its story…
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Excerpt From
The Uvalde Raider
By Ben H. English
Once able to, they made their way through the opened door and into the larger space. Micah stopped and blinked repeatedly before squinting against the harsh artificial glare, his eyes adjusting to the sudden onslaught of bright lighting contained within the room.
The heretofore dominant sounds of activity now faded to the visage of their captors conducting different tasks, all evidently part of some grand scheme of which Micah still had no real idea of. Qassam and his malicious shadow, the one he called Mustafa, peered over an aerial map set upon a large desktop to one side.
Both looked up after a moment, Qassam smiling with his white, even teeth as if genuinely glad to see them. Mustafa gave off no expression of emotion whatsoever, he simply looked at them with his flat reptilian eyes as if he was sizing something up for a future meal. If the Lebanese ever had an ounce of human kindness within him, the emotion had apparently evaporated a long time before.
“Colonel Templar and company, good to see you again” the Hezbollah leader effused. “I hope your lodging quarters have not been too uncomfortable. You have my apologies for the lateness of the hour, but I did want the chance to visit with you further. Now I have the time to do so.”
Ezekiel Templar cast a practiced eye on what was happening around him. There were aerial maps, flight charts, meteorological forecasts, assorted storage containers and color coded notebooks placed neatly at different points in the room, all illustrating a well-executed attention to detail.
He had already picked up enough from his eavesdropping to realize this was no rag tag bunch of petty criminals. They were a disciplined, well-trained and highly motivated group of men who were working together to accomplish an overridingly important goal. He already had a fair idea of what that goal likely was, but had been silently praying that he was wrong.
“I don’t know about that, Qassam, you look kind of busy. Perhaps we should come back at a better time” responded the elder Templar with a hint of dryness.
Qassam laughed out loud in apparent merriment. “Oh no, you could have not come at a more agreeable one. Most of the work has already been done, at least for my part. It has been said the mark of a successful organization is for each member to know their job and do it well, and without any real supervision. Such motivation and skills make my duties far less stressful and carries the greatest promise in achieving the objective. I handpicked each of these men precisely with that in mind.”
“Evidently so” agreed Ezekiel. He looked beyond the confines of the room and out through the front window that faced the runway area. The Uvalde Raider sat there, the center of attention for the activities going on outside.
The Boeing was lit up by numerous portable lighting fixtures, and Qassam’s men moved with purpose both inside and around her. The bomb bay doors had been cranked open, and they were working on some sort of hoist and pulley device that was being lifted up through the open belly of the aircraft. Off to the side was a group of ten fifty-gallon drums, arranged neatly in two rows. The containers appeared to be made of some sort of heavy plastic and were blue in color.
His worst fears confirmed, the elder Templar took another step forward, focused entirely on the scene outside. “What are you doing to my airplane?” he asked quietly.
“Preparing it for jihad, Colonel. You might say that your airplane is being brought back into active duty” replied the Hezbollah leader.
“If you are expecting me to fly it for you, you might first tell me exactly what you have planned.” deadpanned Ezekiel.
“That would be quite understandable, Colonel Templar, if you were the one who was flying it. As I alluded to before, the mark of a successful organization is for each man to know his job and do it well.” The Hezbollah commander leaned a bit forward, arms folded smugly. “You see, I already have a pilot and he is quite proficient.”
“Flying a B-17 is not like crawling into a Cessna 172, Qassam. Your man may be a good pilot, but there are very few these days who happen to have much experience at the controls of a Flying Fortress.” Templar glanced to both sides and then again to the large window as the young members of Qassam’s team went about their duties. “Frankly, I don’t see anyone around here who likely has that kind of experience.”
“Do not equate age with the experience needed to fly your airplane, Colonel,” warned Qassam. “Think about it this way: how old were you when you first flew the B-17 during your own war? Twenty-one, perhaps twenty-two years of age?”
The terrorist leader peered intently at the older man, as if relishing the thought of staying one step ahead of him. “I have the right man for the task. He is outside now, supervising the loading of your aircraft.”
Ben H. English is an eighth-generation Texan who grew up in the Big Bend. At seventeen he joined the Marines, ultimately becoming a chief scout-sniper as well as an infantry platoon sergeant. Later he worked counterintelligence and traveled to over thirty countries on four continents.
At Angelo State University he graduated Magna Cum Laude along with other honors. Afterward Ben had a career in the Texas Highway Patrol, holding several instructor billets involving firearms, driving, patrol procedures, and defensive tactics.
After retirement, he decided to try his hand at writing. His first effort, Yonderings, was accepted by a university press and garnered some awards. His second, Destiny’s Way, led to a long-term, multi-book contract. This was followed by Out There: Essays on the Lower Big Bend and now his second fictional work, The Uvalde Raider.
His intimate knowledge of what he writes about lends credence and authenticity to his work. Ben knows how it feels to get hit and hit back, or being thirsty, cold, wet, hungry, alone, or exhausted beyond imagination. Finally, he knows of not only being the hunter, but also the hunted.
Ben and his wife have two sons who both graduated from Annapolis. He still likes nothing better than grabbing a pack and some canteens and heading out to where few others venture.
Just as he has done throughout most of his life…
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