The Insider Threat (41 page)

Before getting to the kind folks who helped me write this novel, I’d like to acknowledge the most important person of all. That would be you, the reader. Without you, Pike Logan would have been banished to the trash bin of history long ago. This is my eighth novel—a feat I would have said was ridiculous a mere four years ago—and it is a direct result of you. Some writers will tell you that they craft their work solely for the art, regardless of the enjoyment of the reader, but that is not me. Having someone enjoy my work is the sole reason I write, and without you, I would go back to security work without a second glance, which would aggravate the hell out of my wife. Truthfully, I still don’t consider myself a writer, even with eight novels under my belt. Describing myself as such seems arrogant, and I always fumble my words when I’m asked what I do for a living. I still can’t believe it’s true, and I have a single person to thank for it. You.

The Insider Threat
has been one of the hardest novels I’ve ever tackled, precisely because it deals with a threat that is very real and very current. Predicting the twists and turns in the Middle East is almost guaranteeing failure, and predicting the fight against ISIS is even worse. Hell, by the time this goes to press, ISIS may no longer even exist, but I don’t think that will happen. I decided to stick with it, focusing on what I knew about its aspirations and what I believed would be the worst threat—namely, jihadists with no background or profile coming home. At one point, near the end, I was at a complete loss as to what to do. I knew how the last page was going to read, but I had no idea how to get there. Every action seemed too easy, too coincidental, or too convoluted, and I’d painted myself into a corner with respect to the timeline of various events. Luckily for me, I know a James Island redneck named Beau. He invited me over to his house—my wife was more than glad to get rid of my complaining for a night—and after a case of beer and about eight hours around a fire pit, him bouncing ideas off me and me doing the same in return, I had my ending.

I do a lot of Internet/book research before I travel to an area, and invariably, that research is upended by on-the-ground information from a local. In Albania, it was a bartender at the Sheraton Hotel in Tirana. After about thirty minutes of talking to him, I threw out the guidebooks and started taking notes on Blloku and Tirana Park. Venice and Rome were a little easier, although my guide in the Vatican grew curious as to why I couldn’t care less about the Sistine Chapel and only wanted to know about the pope’s activities inside Saint Peter’s Basilica. I finished that bit of research, and then when it came time to write, I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember where the entrance was to the grotto below Saint Peter’s. All I had was a picture of the stairwell, which did no good. Internet research was horrible, with most responses saying, “It’s hard to find—but well worth the trip! And it’s FREE!” Which made me feel like an idiot, because I’d done the walk and now couldn’t find the stairwell. I was saved by another author. After begging anyone for help, author Meg Gardiner—who writes a pretty mean thriller, by the way—actually had a map from a 1960 Michelin guide. And she scanned it and sent it to me, saving the day. Physical accuracy is important, but technical aspects are even more so. A special thanks to Kurt, an agent on the president’s protective detail of the Secret Service, for pointing me in the right direction with respect to the pope’s security apparatus. While I would never want to compromise anything, I did want to get that right.

Combat technology continues its march forward, and with the US military’s continuing quest for a new primary weapon, I figured it was time for a change in the Taskforce, both in weapon system and choice of caliber. The “black rifle” is chambered in just about any round imaginable, but I finally settled on the 300 Blackout round for reasons expressed in the book, and that was an easy choice. The weapon was a different story. There are literally hundreds of excellent builders of AR-type rifles, and I got to see plenty of them while doing research at SHOT Show in Las Vegas. I eventually settled on the Primary Weapon System MK109 because of its unique piston system, combining the reliability aspects of the AK-47 into an AR platform. Thanks to Bill at PWS for walking me through it. Believe it or not, suppressors are just as complex, some good and some better. GEMTECH suppressors are at the top of the pyramid, and I’m indebted to Casey for showing me the ins and outs of how his GMT-300BLK tames the noise of the Blackout round in both super and subsonic. I liked the setup so much, I’m building my own PWS/GEMTECH weapon system. Chambered in 300 Blackout, of course.

I’m not Catholic, and I’m indebted to Mike—a retired sergeant major and wayward, lapsed Catholic—for helping me craft the final scene with the pope. I was walking a fine line between cardboard, cartoonish characterization on one side and creating something unbelievable to anyone who understood Catholicism on the other. We worked through that small bit of dialogue over and over, and I appreciate the help. Any hate mail can go to him. . . .

As always, a huge thank-you to my agent, John Talbot, and the entire Dutton Taskforce crew. Ben, Jess, and Liza—Pike Logan would be working a spatula in the food service industry without your incredible efforts.

Brad Taylor, Lieutenant Colonel (ret.),
is a twenty-one-year veteran of the U.S. Army Infantry and Special Forces, including eight years with the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, popularly known as the Delta Force. Taylor retired in 2010 after serving more than two decades and participating in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom, as well as classified operations around the globe. His final military post was as Assistant Professor of Military Science at the Citadel. His first seven Pike Logan thrillers were
New York Times
bestsellers. He lives in Charleston, South Carolina.

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