Cobra pilot Ross Teemer has killed for the CIA. Now he never wants to kill again. Love found on a beach will do that to a young man, even a Marine. But the father who haunts him, the CIA who needs him, and the Marine Crops who owns him, want on one more mission.
Soviet pilot, Colonel Ivan Petrov, former advisor to the North Vietnamese, has left Soviet control to run his own operation out of Laos, and he knows why the CIA wants one more mission. Americans are so soft, so gullible.
Sometimes a man must do what he's never wanted to do, and be what he's never wanted to be. Even if he's been betrayed, and even if he's on a one-way mission.
REVIEWS OF ONE-WAY MISSION
"This is really a great story. Compelling characters, witty dialogue, a fast-moving plot . . . I got so involved I read it straight through. Highly recommended."
Terry Knox, actor and writer ("Sergeant Zeke" in "Tour of Duty")
"Crew has done it again. He has mined his experience and his technical expertise and produced a page-turner filled with golden nuggets of information, humorous characters, and stunning air-to-air scenes that will appeal to all. Randy was one of the pioneers in the days when Marine pilots like him were first experimenting with helicopter vs. helicopter tactics. He knew his subject then, and he knows it now."
Major General Larry Taylor USMCR(Ret),
former Commanding General, 4th Marine Aircraft Wing
Just when you thought you knew all you needed to know about Vietnam, author Randolph Crew comes along and takes you to a place you’ve never been and on a ride you’ve never dreamed of.
One-Way Mission is outside my normal genre, but I picked it up and couldn't put it down. A vivid, sensual experience, I smelled the engine exhaust, heard the hiss in the radios and the whine of the transmission, and I felt the rudder pedals vibrate on my feet with every burst of the guns. And I felt Lieutenant Ross Teemer’s sweat-soaked fear of the beast from the clouds, his love for Kim, his camaraderie with his friends, his heartbreak at the losses, and his sense of betrayal by those he trusted the most. I was left exhausted but totally satisfied from the experience. And enlightened.
This is a fast-paced, great read with a cast of loveable and colorful Marine and Army characters—a crackling good, suspenseful yarn with a breath catching climax well told by a masterful writer. I strongly recommend you join Lieutenant Teemer on this ride. You won’t be disappointed.
Corinne Holt Sawyer, author of
The J. Alfred Prufrock Murders and eight others in the series
"One-Way Mission provides an intriguing look at a what-if scenario: Helicopter to helicopter dogfights over Southeast Asia near the end of the Vietnam War. Today, nearly 40 years after the last American aces made their records, Randy Crew's nicely developed scenario may remain the most likely prospect for aerial combat."
Author of 18 books and book reviewer for "The Hook," The Journal of Carrier Aviation
"My God, what a story! A surprise in every chapter! You didn't let me down, Randy. It was fast, scary (very scary!), and full of laugh-out-loud humor. And your crazy characters! Love those guys, especially Long John. Argh!"
Nancy Castle Gross
TO VIEW THE 00:01:29 "ONE-WAY MISSION" VIDEO, GO TO:
EXCERPT FROM ONE-WAY MISSION:
From Chapter 7, “A Wicked Piece of Gear”
He reached into the folder and took out an 8 x 10
black and white photograph of three Caucasian men in
Soviet style flightsuits. He laid it before me and tapped
his finger on the tall one facing the other two. “Here’s
the asshole who’s been killing our guys—Colonel Ivan
Petrov, Soviet Air Force.”
The man identified as Petrov looked to be about fifty.
Gaunt. Hollowed cheeks. Shaved head. He stood with
his hands on his hips and with small, hard eyes, stared at
the other two men. The body lean suggested he wasn’t
happy with one or both of them.
Hardy leaned closer to the fuzzy photo, obviously a
candid telephoto shot. He tapped Petrov’s face. “Note
the vertical scar on his left cheek.”
A two-inch scar, like the trail of a teardrop, ran
downward from the corner of Petrov’s left eye. “Yes, Sir.”
I looked up at him. “Sir?”
He pulled another photo from the file, another 8 x 10.
“The photo I just showed you was taken in November
of last year.” He laid the second one before me, a color
photo. “This one was taken a week ago.”
Stunned enough by the fact that we could take photos
of the enemy in Laos, then have prints made and delivered
in a week, my eyes opened even wider at the sight of
“Note the two new vertical scars on his left cheek.
The first is Markham, the freshest one is Horsesnyder.”
“Damn.” I studied the face. I also noticed the fuzzy
scene around the face; a long clearing in the jungle beside
a town or built-up area, a large barn-style hangar, and a
Mi-8 parked in a grassy field. Rotor blades protruded
from the front of the barn and a radio antenna extended
out the top. In the foreground, Petrov knelt alone before
some kind of, I don’t know, shrine or something. But
it looked metallic and black with rounded openings.
Candles and bones and junk lay piled around its base.
Petrov wore a red handkerchief around his neck, and
around his waist he wore a large knife in a gaudy, decorated
Hardy pulled the photos away. He slipped them back
into the file. “Now, you see why we have to do this? No
doubt he’s cut a fourth scar on his face today. With me?”
“Yes, Sir. I got it. But, Colonel, if we’ve got a guy on
the ground that can shoot him with a camera, why can’t
he shoot him with a rifle and end this shit?”
“I don’t know. Petrov’s organization is mostly Soviet
advisors, but he has Laotians working for him as well,
and they’re very loyal, but their loyalty is based on fear.
Maybe one of those is willing to snoop for us, but not
willing to kill for us.”
I leaned back and sighed. “Damn, I gotta believe
there’s another way.”
“The way has been decided, Ross. And we’re it.”