Ralph Sanborn – författare

Heroin, called China Red on the street, is being smuggled into the United States. Zhou Jingwho fancies himself a fifteenth-century Chinese warlord, is using Muslim Uighers in western China to produce the heroin. In exchange, Zhou arms, trains, and provides security from the Chinese government for the Uighers.

Caleb Frost is a professional assassin in a deep cover, black operations team that specializes in wet work. His team includes two ex-Navy SEALs and a Greek beauty and former New York City escort. Funded by the US government, the team operates autonomously in total secrecy. China hires Calebs team to destroy, with prejudice, the smuggling operation in the US.Zhous partner is a brilliant, psychopathic killera Harvard Business School graduate named Wrath. He founded the Visigoths MC, a hard riding, vicious motorcycle gang which protects, delivers, and collects payment for the heroin shipments. When matters become personal and Calebs sister Rebecca is kidnapped, the teams task gets messier. It becomes more than an assassination engagement for Calebit becomes a bloodthirsty vendetta.

This tornado of a thriller drags the reader into a world of guns, bombs, swords and death and wont let go.-Rob Swigart, Author of The Delphi Agenda

China Red plunges the reader into a world of evil intrigue and high adventure. You wont be able to put it down."-Antoinette May, author of The Sacred Well, Pilates Wife, and Haunted Houses of California

Caleb Frosts sixth sense tickled his brain as he approached his room in Caesars Octavius Tower. Regardless of the sources of the subconscious alarms, when they entered his conscious awareness, he did not question them. Training and experience responded to these stimuli. Something felt wrong. He knew it, but not what.

He drew his P226, gripping it firmly in his hand. Sliding the plastic room card into the electronic key slot, he waited for the little light to shine green. Caleb pushed down on the ornate door handle and slammed the door open. He spun with his butt pressing the door flat against the interior wall as his two-handed grip on the Sig Sauer drew an arc across the room. On the second sweep, he saw it. Like a deadly nighttime chocolate on his bed