Jonathon Stone Mystery Novels

Tuesday, March 7, 2023

Game of Fire

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Novel BY James Moushon

Game of Fire

A Jonathon Stone Mystery

Author: James Moushon

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/41kt9da

An explosion and fire rocks a Southern California mall and it is quickly determined it is arson. The timing of the incident is special because it interrupts the Tet New Year’s Festival and Parade in Little Saigon, an area just east of Long Beach.

Had the old wounds of Vietnam been opened again or was there a different game being played?

Enter veteran CIA Agent Jonathon Stone. Already in pursuit of the gun-running Minh family, he connects with a special FBI task force to assist in the investigation of the explosion and Minh quickly becomes their number one suspect.

Stone teams up with FBI Agent Jodi Shannon to pursue the people behind the arson fire. Jodi is a serious, no nonsense agent who leads the FBI Arson Task Force. While she fights to solve the mystery, she also fights Stone’s advances. As always, he tries to mix business with pleasure.

As the game takes its twists and turns, Stone’s assignment leads to a shootout in Las Vegas and a car chase down the coast of Southern California.

Jonathon Stone battles his love for gambling and drinking and the ladies to help solve the Mystery of the Game of Fire.

Game Of Fire is the third book in the Jonathon Stone Mystery Series.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

The salty ocean air filled my nose as I jogged along the running path. It was a typical Sunday winter morning in the Long Beach area. The marine layer would last until noon or so and then break apart.

This was my morning routine now that my CIA assignment had changed to an on-call asset. Chasing terrorism had been my job for a while now. From day-to-day I never knew where in the world I was going to wind up.

I could see my most favorite coffee shop in the world, Essie’s, several hundred yards down the pathway to the green belt that separated the Pacific Ocean from an area called Belmont Shore. I had lived in the area for a couple of years now and since I could catch an op anywhere in the world, it was a good base location for me. The ocean, the mild weather and a gambling casino just five minutes away was my way of living.

I grabbed a newspaper at the door and headed to my usual table in the corner. A crowd of locals were intently watching TV and talking politics. It was funny. No matter where I went in the world, this scene was repeated. The scuttlebutt could become very heated at times.

Roxie, the morning waitress at Essie’s Coffee Shop, headed toward me with a steaming pot of coffee.

“Hi, Rox. I’ll have a bagel with cream cheese.”

Everybody called her Rox. I could never understand how you could shorten someone’s name when it was already short. Now I could understand people cutting my name from Jonathon to Jon.

She poured my coffee with a quick flick of the wrist. She was good at what she did.

“Coming right up. Toasted lightly, right?”

“You got it. How are the Lakers doing?” I asked, knowing they were leading the league.

Roxie’s answer always depended on the night before. If the Lakers won she was all smiles. If they lost, look out.

“Those bums lost in overtime. They should play that one tall rookie more.”

I started reading the front page. A large picture of a fire jumped out at me. Now I know why the television was turned loud this morning. I turned my attention to the TV in the front of the room. I watched the fire scene as the firemen sprayed the structure with large hoses. That looked bad.

I stood and walked closer to the TV. I knew the area of the fire. I recognized it from the large mall sign in the parking lot in front of the complex. We had closed a surveillance op there just five months ago.

I returned to my table and started reading the paper.

2/18/2007, Orange County Daily News
FIRE MARS TET FESTIVAL IN GARDEN GROVE

Last night at around ten o’clock, a fire broke out in the Le Hi Shopping Mall on Bolsa Ave. in Garden Grove and quickly went out of control, completely destroying the complex. Hours earlier the street in front of the Mall was filled with party-goers celebrating the Annual Tet Festival Parade. There were thousands of people along the parade route in the Little Saigon area during the day….

I got up and moved closer to the TV again. A fire chief was giving a briefing.

“Good morning. I am Eddie Lam, Garden Grove Fire Chief. I am here to report on the fire last night at the Le Hi Shopping Mall. The cause of the fire is currently under investigation. It appears that something exploded or caught on fire which immediately hit the gas line and spread rapidly through the complex. Multiple fire departments responded, but there was little they could do, but contain the fire from spreading to surrounding structures and neighborhoods. We were lucky that the crowd from the parade had dispersed already.”

“Was anyone hurt?” one of the reporters asked.

Fire Chief Lam continued, “There was one casualty reported. The victim was a male, but at this time he has not been identified.”

“How many fire departments responded?” another reporter asked.

“Fire and police units from Garden Grove, Westminster, Huntington Beach and Long Beach responded to the three alarm fire. One final note. It is expected that the area will be cleared for tonight’s Chinese New Year parade. The Westminster Parade is scheduled to start at 6 PM today. I need to go. We will try to keep you updated as much as we can.”

The fire chief turned and disappeared into the crowd.

There was a video store in the mall that the Agency had been watching for over a year. Our group had been waiting for an international terrorist named Tay Minh to show up. We had shut down the surveillance when chatter had placed him living and operating in Hong Kong.

About the same time our CIA undercover operation in downtown Long Beach had been compromised and the staff was scattered to the wind. I had stayed in the area and become an at-large asset.

Since then I had caught a couple overnighters as we call them. It had been about six months since my last full assignment. That was okay with me, but I did miss the action. At least I got to do some gambling and continue my drinking and running around with my on-again, off-again girlfriend, Jill. She was a cocktail waitress at the Ocean Queen Casino which seemed to make things more complicated at times. She still bought my cover as a freelance writer, but she didn’t understand why I was always carrying a gun.

Several years ago, I was moved from Europe to the Long Beach area to a new CIA secret division called Domestic Operations-Terrorism. It was simply called DOT. It was created to handle terrorist threats inside the US that originated outside our borders.

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

Eventually, our cover was blown, and the staff was scattered to the wind. My boss, Russ Evans, changed my status to At-Large and kept me in the Long Beach area. I live in Belmont Shore, if you want to be more specific.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Author: James Moushon

Author Genre: Mystery & Thrillers, Satire

Website: James Moushon - Mystery Writer / Author Advocate
Author's Blog: Indie Author’s Corner
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E-Mail: james.moushon@gmail.com
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Author Description:

James Moushon is a Mystery writer and an Author Advocate.

Starting over 15 years ago, he helped lead the startup of the electronic forms industry in the creation, conversion and usage of electronic forms by supplying that industry with a continuing source of published literature, software products and training seminars.

In 2003, Moushon changed his focus to ebooks and their development.

James is currently wearing two Hats. He is a Mystery Writer and a Book Publishing Blogger. You can find his blogs at:

HBS Author’s Spotlight
The blog's purpose is to help authors get exposure in the book publishing industry. He has interviewed and showcased over 600 authors to date.

Indie Author's Corner
The Corner is a collection of Author advice and studies including Marketing, Social Media and other major topics created to help writers in today's ever changing world of book publishing.

He has spent the majority of his adult life developing computer systems and thinking about writing mysteries.

His website is: JAMES MOUSHON - MYSTERY WRITER / BOOK INDUSTRY BLOGGER

To contact him, e-mail: james.moushon@gmail.com

The Cajun Ghost

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Novel BY James Moushon

The Cajun Ghost

A Jonathon Stone Mystery

Author: James Moushon

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3lUQodr

ARIZONA SENATOR AND U.S. SENATORIAL CANADATE, TAD CLOSEN SHOT DOWNTOWN PHOENIX DURING PARADE

CIA Agent Jonathon Stone’s purchase of an old rifle from a gun dealer leads him on a search for the owner of the gun. When he finds the owner, a Cajun gun for hire, he discovers that he was one of the shooters in downtown Phoenix the day Senator Ted Closen was assassinated.

The rifle purchase leads to a chain of events that threaten Stone’s CIA cover, his life and puts the CIA Long Beach undercover operation in jeopardy.

As the search accelerates, fellow agent Carol Haney joins Stone on a journey that goes from California to the French quarter in New Orleans to Phoenix to the mountains in Northern Arizona.

Jonathon follows the trail through murderers, land barons, politicians and the mob to find the truth about the Cajun Ghost and the murder of Senator Closen.

Excerpt from The Cajun Ghost

Chapter One

July 4, 1986 – Phoenix, Arizona

The dark, rugged looking man knelt near the fourth floor window of an office building with his rifle at the ready. There had been a light rain in the morning but the sky was starting to clear as a large crowd gathered along the parade route below. It was monsoon season in the desert. A brisk wind moved the sounds of the people and the slow rumble of the motorcycles around the canyon of high buildings like an amphitheater.

He had built a cave of boxes around the window, creating a makeshift-hiding place. He gazed at the park across the street looking for his spotter. They had told him that the lookout would be easy to see but so far he hadn’t appeared.

His gaze was interrupted by the grind of the elevator’s motor in the back of the large, vacant room. He stood his rifle against the wall and picked up his clipboard and started toward the middle of the room. He knew that as long as he appeared to be working no one would question him. Someone had moved the elevator to the third floor, right below him. He needed to be on guard.

He returned to his shelter and looked back out the window. It wouldn’t be long until his target would be in sight. He had been a gun for hire most of his adult life after the Marines but his age was catching up with him. God, he was over fifty.

He had a clear view of the street in front of him but there was a large tree in the park that could be a problem. Some of the people sitting in the park waiting for the motorcade were looking up toward him. He moved back slightly from the window.

His plan was simple. Follow the plan. Eliminate the target. Evacuate the location. Get in position and protect your back.

Moving from one side of the strike area to the other, he checked the large room behind him and then returned to the half open window.

He wasn’t a regular employee so any hard questions would end the op but he was in a uniform with an ID provided by his client.

Again he went on alert when he heard loud voices close by. He left the window quietly, listening for the location of the conversation. It was right below him he decided. It was probably the workers who had moved the elevator to the floor below. He returned to the window.

He had been told there was a backup shooter somewhere along the route. If discovered, stop and get out. He knew all he had to do was just squeeze the trigger. Take the shot. Police the brass. Take the rifle. Execute a calm exit. Mingle with the crowd. Become one of them. Meet at the airport for his pay day.

The plan rang in his mind. He had over a hundred kills since leaving the Marines but this seemed different.

Soon his target would approach the kill zone from the west. He knelt sideways by the windowsill to avoid facing the sun. He tried to stay motionless as his heart started pounding.

This was a big opportunity and he couldn’t miss it. This meant big bucks and the kill shot was worth a bonus. That would be the icing on the cake. The birds on the roof kept flying and returning, as the noise below got louder. The glare of the sun on the window would be gone soon.

His rifle was locked and loaded. He could see the target coming from his left now as the noise from the crowd increased.

He would be patient. Take the best shot. He would be shooting down on the target. He had taken shots many times over a hundred yards. This would be much shorter. He looked to his right but the lookout still wasn’t in sight. The guy could be hidden by the trees in the park.

He could handle this by himself he thought. He would know if he hit the target. He didn’t need the spotter to tell him that.

Now he was ready to take the shot. The target had passed below him and turned left onto Central Avenue. He was moving away with his back fully exposed. The tree could be a problem but the bullet would fly right through the leaves. The rush was tremendous. He tried to control his hands. He pulled the trigger.

The shot flew through the air and hit the target. The windows rattled and the building shook with a noise that sounded like an explosion. The pigeons above flew away with a loud, rushing sound. The target had slumped to his left.

Sirens started whaling and the roar of the motorcycles filled the air. The crowd below was falling to the ground and running in all directions. Mothers were grabbing their children while others ducked for cover. It was complete chaos.

He thought he heard another shot but with all the noise, he wasn’t sure. He paused a second then started his escape.

He moved quickly to the rear of the room toward the elevators. He broke the rifle down and put it in his tool box. The elevators were still on the floor below. He had no time to bring one up to his floor so he headed for the backstairs with the tool box in one hand and the clipboard in the other.

Halfway down the stairs, he heard loud talking. He ducked into the empty lunchroom just before a policeman with a drawn gun entered. He needed to stay calm. He tried not to change expressions as the officer approached him. The cop quickly checked his employee badge. Then he nodded and rushed by him. The employee uniform and badge had worked.

He had been trained if you have something in your hand you don’t appear out of place. He moved to the vending machine, bought a coke and headed down the backstairs to the first floor. He proceeded to the front of the building toward the main entrance. Only one person was left in the office and she was talking to a policeman. He was trying to look natural and not rush. The police encounter had been too close.

As he got to the entrance of the building, he heard loud screams and saw people moving in all directions. He moved into the crowd as a policeman approached him. He hoped he didn’t have to pull the pistol hidden under his shirt. The officer rushed right by him, brushing his shoulder as he passed, and entered the building as the ex-marine took a deep breath.

He had been told that the rifle was untraceable. He thought for a second. He had picked up his brass. The plan was right on schedule. And it seemed like everyone was focused on the parking deck across the street.

He walked quickly into the park and like a ghost, disappeared into the throng of people.

The next day, the local Phoenix paper’s headline read:

ARIZONA SENATOR AND U.S. SENATORIAL CANADATE, TAD CLOSEN SHOT DOWNTOWN

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Timeout!

A Jonathon Stone Mystery Novel BY James Moushon

TIMEOUT!

Author: James Moushon

Available at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited https://bit.ly/3IYzqUV

The wind was blowing briskly off the ocean with a slight mist in the air.

Jonathon was dispatched to San Diego with Chuck Chun, another CIA special agent. The CIA had received an alert. A notorious arms dealer was arriving in San Diego with a large number of guns and explosives on a freighter from the Far East. This dealer had been very elusive for a long time.

At the same time, FBI Agent Jodi Shannon and Agent Brian Baker from LA join the San Diego FBI field office team in a joint investigation. Their assignment: Get to the bottom of a white-collar crime, sports fixing.”

At the center of things was Willy Payne, a veteran basketball player for the San Diego Bays. He quickly becomes the focus of both investigations.

Eventually, Payne runs out of time.

Excerpt from TIMEOUT!

The wind was blowing briskly off the ocean with a slight mist in the air.

I sat there eating breakfast staring out the restaurant window. This was the start of summertime in Southern California. I could see the flags on the Belmont Pier blowing briskly toward Long Beach. These were the dog days. Overcast in the morning, burning off briefly in the afternoon and then back to the dull sky.

Each of my mornings had started this way for a while now. Being on call for the Agency allowed me to pursue my passion for gambling but the downside of drinking every night and then trying to recover by taking a brisk run through the morning mist was taking its toll.

I sat there drinking my first cup of coffee. Essie’s Restaurant was the same old thing every day. The usual gang of locals were sitting at the corner table, drinking coffee, talking about the latest scuttlebutt, and watching the joggers running by the large windows which faced the ocean.

One thing that was out of place was my favorite waitress in the world, Roxie. She was flitting round the room with a coffee pot in her hand, talking as loud as I had ever heard her. Roxie was a large Mexican lady, so dodging through the tables was no small feat. This morning Roxie had her Laker’s jersey on. They must have won. I took a seat at the counter as Essie, the owner, who was standing at the cashier’s counter, looked at me with a smile and held up one finger as a signal of patience. I had been coming here since I had been assigned to the Long Beach area several years ago.

Essie finally made her way to me with a streaming pot of coffee. “Hi, Jon. Do you want your usual bagel?” she asked.

“That sounds great. What’s got Roxie all riled up?”

“The Lakers won the championship, and she went to the parade yesterday. She has been this way for over a week now after the game. That’s why I’m helping her on the floor. She will be flying around here for another week until she realizes her Dodgers are off to a slow start.”

I loved sports but my ventures every night to the Casino Queen had got in the way of me keeping up with what was going on. Only my brief encounters with Roxie helped me keep pace with Laker’s basketball and soon to be the center of attention, the Dodgers.

I liked to tease Roxie on her down days, but this was not going to be one of them. She saw me across the room and waved. She wasn’t going to miss this opportunity, I bet.

She wheeled around the corner, exchanged a pot of coffee from the back burners, and headed my way. I should have passed on the bagel.

“Jon, we won the championship,” she shouted, announcing the fact to me and everyone else in the restaurant.”

I got a closer look at her jersey. It read in big white letters ‘LAKERS CHAMPS’.

A Note from Jonathon

My name is Jonathon Stone. Like a lot of single, All-American men I enjoy gambling, drinking, and the ladies.

I am a writer for Real Sportsman Magazine.

Being a writer is a realistic, workable cover but, in reality, I am a Special Agent for the CIA. I am assigned to the West Coast-based – Far East Operation Center located in San Francisco.

At one time our offices were in downtown Long Beach, CA. On the main floor was a complete magazine group with secretaries and a writing staff that produced a monthly hunting magazine.

In the basement of that office building was a full-blown CIA operation with security set up and computer center.

I am what my fellow agents call an Asset-On-Call. I may just show up anywhere in the world.

As a footnote, we also handle the Domestic Operation - Terrorism (DOT) division. It was formed to handle terrorist threats inside the U.S. after DHS took control of intelligence.

This group is not on the Company’s organization chart.

Jonathon Stone

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Black Mountain Secrets - NOW Free starting 12/19/12 for 3 days

Click here for your free copy
Starting December 19, 2012:
Black Mountain Secrets

See Bonus copy below:
Call Off The Dogs

Black Mountain Secrets
A Jonathon Stone Mystery Novel

CIA Agent Jonathon Stone goes undercover to help in an FBI investigation after a fellow agent is murdered on the Colorado River.

Stone continues the agent’s investigation of suspects who are stealing top-secret documents from a secret Army base in the middle of the Mohave Desert. The trail leads him from the rugged Black Mountains of Nevada to Laughlin, a gambling oasis on the Colorado.

As things heat up in this desert paradise, Stone dodges bullets and attempts on his life until he reaches the ultimate showdown. Jonathon Stone truly needs lady luck on his side to catch the spies and get through this ordeal alive.

Mystery Writer James Moushon brings to life Jonathon Stone, an undercover CIA agent assigned to the off the books CIA division – DOT.

He throws Stone right into the middle of action. As the mystery unfolds, Stone uses his wealth of knowledge and keen analytical mind to complete his dangerous assignments, while at the same time battling his love for gambling and drinking and the ladies.

Take a look at the following Book Trailer.

About the Author

Born in Illinois, James Moushon is a published writer in the electronic document field. Moushon is a graduate of Bradley University in Peoria, IL.

He published his first Mystery Novel, 'Call Off The Dogs' in 2010. He is continuing to create Jonathon Stone Mystery Novels with his recently published 'Black Mountain Secrets'.

He is currently wearing three Hats. He is a mystery author, computer consultant and book industry blogger. He has spent the majority of his adult life developing computer systems and thinking about writing.

Bonus Copy

Call Off The Dogs - a Jonathon Stone Mystery Novel

To get your FREE copy of Call Off The Dogs:
Send an email to: freedogs@jamesmoushon.com
Tell us which version you want (Kindle or Nook) and it will be on its way ASAP.

Thanks for your support.

James

Follow me:

Follow Me on Twitter: @jimhbs
Or EMAIL at: jim@jamesmoushon.com
View my website: James Moushon – Mystery Writer
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