Jake Coble

BENTLEY ROBINSON Brooklyn, New York June 13, 2024 A .45 caliber gun, pressed against his pregnant girlfriend's belly. Fear, rampantly running through his mind. His world, about to crumble in the blink of an eye. Unless he got his shit together - right here, right now. Bentley was panting from the emotional exhaustion. It was hard to fathom a more terrifying sight for a soon-to-be-father. Just getting back from a simple grocery run, he dropped every single bag when he opened the door. "Honey, I'm home..." facetiously echoed the tall, thin man holding the gun against Katalina's stomach, his voice booming with a grin. "At last, he arrives...the man of the hour." Bentley couldn't make any sudden movements. The second he got back to the apartment, one of the man's cronies pulled a gun on him. All that was left to do was watch and pray the man across the room didn't pull the trigger. "Relax, boys," he calmly said, looking at his men, each pointing a gun to Bentley's temples. "I think this does the trick." He pressed the gun down harder on his girlfriend's belly, while she winced in pain. "Look at that! I tell ya, swear I just felt a kick." It took every ounce of strength in his body to not charge at the man that very second. But that'd be a death wish in and of itself. He had an idea of who this man was - a cartel hitman by the name of Thad Striker. He was an urban myth within the Bedford-Stuyvesant community; the only thing was, you never wanted to see him, for where he went, death followed. Hopefully that trend wasn't going to continue today. Striker worked for a cartel known as the Brotherhood, that frequently dealt in Bed-Stuy, controlling and dominating an impoverished and financially vulnerable community. Capitalizing on addiction and the desire to feel free through heroin and methamphetamine, the Brotherhood acted as an unstoppable, intimidating force that preyed on the marginalized and poor. He always figured the leaders of the cartel paid the local cops and District Attorney to turn a blind eye to the violence and the mounting bloodshed. They'd been turning their backs on this neighborhood for decades. The Brotherhood would sell you whatever you wanted, for a cost that was too high for Bentley's liking. But, like many people in this town, it was getting more and more difficult to keep up with the payments - and the Brotherhood's steep interest. They didn't have much money in the first place, so what'd they expect? It was a game everyone was destined to fail. Out of what the Brotherhood called "good will" to the community, they'd show a little mercy here or there, but the cardinal rule of it all: do not, under any circumstances, be late on a payment. Because if you do, you might just come home from a run to the grocery store with a notorious hitman pointing a gun right at your three girls. Kat was having twins, due on the Fourth of July. But that wasn't the only thing due then. "Last I checked...Mr. Robinson..." Striker said, grabbing a cigarette with his right hand and positioning it in the corner of his mouth. "Do me a favor, darlin'..." he said, looking at Katalina with a smirk. "Light this for me. Little busy over here." His girlfriend fearfully obliged. She was breathing heavy, nearly hyperventilating. "Like I was trying to say, Mr. Robinson...last I checked, today's the 13th. You're behind." "I'm sorry, I'll..." he frantically replied, before Striker cut him off. "No, no, no...I'm talking here. I don't care about your excuse. Thing is, you should've moved 15 of our 25K by now. My boss was looking at our offshores the other day, and only saw nine. While y'all don't know my boss, he's kind of a...oh, how should I put it? He's an impatient man. Said you gotta move the rest by the Fourth." "About that..." Bentley said, his voice meek, fear manifesting itself as his legs began to shake. "I don't know if I can do that. You see, we ain't get that much business here lately, and I got other co-managers. I can't just sneak this under their noses that easy." Thad laughed in a sinister way, as a cunning smile flashed across his otherwise long and pale face that was covered in a thick five o'clock shadow. "That wasn't a request. I didn't come here to ask your permission to move our money, Bentley. All 25, by the Fourth. That was our deal." He'd been in debt to the Brotherhood after coming up a couple grand short over the course of his past few deals. Rather than unnecessarily taking him out over a couple racks, the cartel decided it'd be best to get Bentley to work for them, by laundering some of their dirty cash through his auto repairs shop to earn his keep. It wasn't Thad who consulted him about that mission - it was the "beauty of the Brotherhood", Yaní Bellamy - whom the entire Bed-Stuy community had developed an unhealthy crush on by now. Yaní told him to move the 25 by the Fourth of July, and gave him just over a two-month window to get it done. Not an easy task when you've got a shoddy business that's been in the red the past six months. Thousands and thousands of dollars popping out of thin air would raise eyebrows. But he didn't have time to negotiate. He'd seen what happened to those who were in debt to the Brotherhood in the past. All dead or working for the cartel in some capacity. And, once you started working for them - you were in it until you got a bullet in the chest. Bentley couldn't go down the same road - he had girls to raise, after all. "You know, I always wanted kids, man," Striker said. "Still got plenty of time, though." He looked to be in his mid-twenties, give or take. Young, but a seasoned, cold-blooded killer. "You got any tips for me?" he asked, looking at Kat, while gently caressing the contour of her face. She kept shaking her head, sweat dripping down her brow. She was on the brink of a panic attack. "Nothin'? C'mon now, honey. I know you can give me something, baby." Katalina kept shaking her head, taking a multitude of deep breaths, trying to stay calm but to no avail. "Well...I suppose I've made my point here," he said, fidgeting to get up but opting to stay seated for a second. Until another sinister and devilish look crossed his face as he stared right into Bentley's eyes. "Eh, maybe not." He tapped the trigger. Bentley's heart skipped a beat. Safety mode. Striker loudly cackled as Bentley dropped to his knees. "Jesus Christ! You should've seen the fucking look on your face! What'd I tell y'all?" he said, looking at his men by the door. "I told y'all that'd work. I gotta use that more, my God! That was gold." He got up from the seat, flicking his cigarette out the open window while stroking the stubble on his chin. Thad crouched down to Bentley's level. "The 25 grand, by the Fourth. You understand?" "Yes sir," he replied, anxious to console his girlfriend. "Good. Let's hope you don't have to see me again." "One thing..." Bentley said, his voice cracking from the nerves. "And what's that?" Striker replied, his sharp brown eyes looking right into Bentley's soul, amused. "Not my girls, man. Whatever you do. Not my girls." Striker subtly nodded, then left the apartment, still with a smile on his face as he couldn't get over his cruel, and twisted prank. His boys followed suit. As soon as they left, Bentley ran over and wrapped up his girlfriend in a massive hug, holding on tight. "It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. We'll make it out of this," he said. That was a lie. He knew there was no way he'd be able to move the money in time. And he sure as hell wasn't going to become just another one of the cartel's soldiers to die in turf wars. The only way he could get out of this situation, and save his girls, was to kill Thad Striker himself.

#1 - THE ACT OF STORY STATEMENT Following an assassination attempt at his inauguration, President Benjamin Owens must track down who was behind the attack on his life and bring them to justice. #2 - THE ANTAGONIST PLOTS THE POINT Thad Striker, a stone cold killer with a quick trigger, is the central antagonist of this novel. Striker is the right-hand man for an emerging cartel, the Brotherhood, and collaborates with clandestine founder and renowned lobbyist, Dawson Williams, concerning how to grow the business and eliminate competition. Striker leads the Brotherhood's efforts to outmaneuver and thwart the FBI's strategic advances, butting heads with the President's hand-picked Special Agent on the case, Derek Collins. Thad's mind is in a constant battle of disarray, as he desires to escape the clutches of Dawson's oppressive cartel and begin a new life, one completely devoid of killing, while also realizing that dream is likely all a façade, due to his true identity: Paul Owens, the presumed-dead son of the President, who "died" seven years prior to the events of this book taking place. Paul's hatred for his father has grown, watching him exploit his death for political gain around each and every corner; to Ben, his death was not so much a tragedy as it was an opportunity. Thad Striker realizes he cannot truly be free until his father gets what he deserves. #3 - CONJURING YOUR BREAKOUT TITLE Seal the Deal -> current working title for this book Coming to Terms Falling Dominoes -> overall series title, as well #4 - DECIDING YOUR GENRE AND APPROACHING COMPARABLES One of the more popular books in the political thriller space that I'd compare Seal the Deal to is Michael Dobbs' House of Cards. While it outlines a British politician's ascent to Prime Minister, there are similar structures in place as to how Francis Urquhart navigates his way to power as Benjamin Owens. Like House of Cards, my novel is the beginning of a political thriller series, as well - as this series goes on, audiences will see more about how President Owens navigates threats to his presidency amongst his yearning for control and desire to bring the Brotherhood to justice. An emerging author's work I'd compare this novel to is L.D. Beyer's In Sheep's Clothing. Like Beyer's fast-paced novel, Seal the Deal begins with tension and a quick twist that sets in motion all major events of what is to come. Beyer's novel is also the beginning of a series, as is mine. #5 - CORE WOUND AND THE PRIMARY CONFLICT Following an assassination attempt on his inauguration day, a President is pitted against his presumed-dead son, a ruthless hit man for one of the country's deadliest cartels, the Brotherhood. #6 - OTHER MATTERS OF CONFLICT: TWO MORE LEVELS Ben's main inner conflict hinges upon the day he was almost assassinated. He begins in a state of shock, and then progresses towards anger and retribution. Someone tried to steal his moment, his coronation, his arrival as the most dominant President the country has ever seen. It keeps him determined and focused, hell-bent on tracking down who sought to take his life. This can immediately be seen after he's rushed off-stage at his inauguration: he acts swiftly to get the FBI involved and on the scene. He carries out a ruthless and meticulous approach throughout the novel; meanwhile, the near-death experience intensifies his longing for absolute control. The secondary conflict, this one of an interpersonal nature, that runs throughout Seal the Deal revolves around how the President and First Lady processed the night of their son's "death," and how that affects their relationship moving forward. There is a constant emotional tug and pull on their heartstrings, over his drug addiction and loss of life far too soon. However, they approach it in different ways - Jane, the First Lady, ponders what they could've done differently, and the millions of opportunities she had to make a difference but didn't. She has regrets, whereas Ben viewed the tragedy as an opportunity the second the cameras started rolling. This creates a mutually antagonistic relationship between the two - heightened by a night in which Jane believes she saw Paul, while Ben realizes that truth could cause everything he's built to topple. #7 - THE INCREDIBLE IMPORTANCE OF SETTING Two main settings exist for Seal the Deal - for the Owens family, a majority of the action resides at the White House, as President Ben Owens attempts to get his administration started on the right foot. The winding hallways and iconic rooms of the West Wing largely symbolize the strategic game of chess he is perpetually playing to position himself for total autonomy. Meanwhile, the elegance of the Residence is where everything he's built starts to collapse, as his power trip has left his ambitious wife, Jane, behind - and she can never forget the man he's become to end up in the nation's capital. In the West Wing, he is the master of the game, in the Oval Office, he is tenacious and seeking retribution, yet, behind the scenes, in the Residence, the cracks in the armor of their marriage start to show. And those cracks will split wide open, jeopardizing everything. For the antagonist Thad Striker and the Brotherhood, the setting proves to be one of a dynamic nature. For any scenes involving Striker's role as a cartel hit man, these take place in the Brotherhood's dark and musty safehouse of Brooklyn. Within their safehouse, Dawson Williams exerts full control over the cartel's operations, which mimics the relationship the Brotherhood carries out over the entire Bed-Stuy community they dominate. Another side of Striker is seen in the Lower East Side, where he attempts to dissociate from his life as a hit man in his relationship with his girlfriend, Ellie - yet their innocent moments prove to be fleeting, as Striker's "real life" calls. Striker's final two main settings, Washington D.C. and Bayonne, New Jersey, represent the double climax Seal the Deal delivers. When the compromised Vice President comes up short on a payment, Thad is sent to the nation's capital to tie up loose ends, yet ends up putting his life on the line. Then, in Bayonne, the two main worlds of this story collide - as a family that has been blackmailed by the cartel provide the FBI with invaluable information, and Striker is pushed to the limit trying to prevent them from exposing the truth behind the Brotherhood.