{"product_id":"blind-fear-isbn-9780593599037","title":"Blind Fear","description":"\u003cb\u003eHaunted by the death of his best friend and hunted by the FBI for war crimes he didn’t commit, Finn lands on an island paradise that turns into his own personal hell in this gripping follow-up to \u003ci\u003eSteel Fear\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eCold Fear\u003c\/i\u003e—from the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling writing team Webb \u0026amp; Mann . . .\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“Webb \u0026amp; Mann have done it again. \u003ci\u003eBlind Fear\u003c\/i\u003e has it all: great characters, an amazing plot, and an incredible setting. This novel moves like a hurricane!”—Connor Sullivan, author of \u003ci\u003eWolf Trap\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy day, AWOL Navy SEAL Finn is hiding out on Vieques, a tiny island paradise off the eastern coast of Puerto Rico, living in a spare room behind a seafood restaurant owned by a blind local. By night he scours the dark web, hunting for the rogue officer responsible for the crimes he is accused of committing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Finn’s world is about to be turned upside down by a new nightmare, when his employer’s two grandchildren go missing. To find them, he’ll have to infiltrate the island’s dangerous criminal underbelly and expose a shadowy crime network known as La Empresa—even if it means exposing himself in the process.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the children go on their own harrowing odyssey to stay one step ahead of a cop-turned-killer, a hurricane batters the coastline, cutting Puerto Rico off from the rest of the world. Taking his pursuit to the sea, Finn’s skills and endurance will be tested to their limits to rescue the lost children and escape his own pursuers before the clock runs out. No one is to be trusted. And those who are seemingly his friends might be the most dangerous foes he’s faced yet.“Webb \u0026amp; Mann have done it again. \u003ci\u003eBlind Fear\u003c\/i\u003e has it all: great characters, an amazing plot, and an incredible setting. This novel moves like a hurricane!”\u003cb\u003e—Connor Sullivan, acclaimed author of \u003ci\u003eWolf Trap\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eBlind Fear\u003c\/i\u003e takes off at a breakneck pace and never lets up—you won’t be able to turn the pages fast enough!”\u003cb\u003e—Lisa Black, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of the Locard Institute series\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for previous books in the Finn X series\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sensationally good—an instant classic, maybe an instant legend.”\u003cb\u003e—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Lee Child\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An absolutely amazing thriller! Exciting, action-packed, and twisty from stem to stern.”\u003cb\u003e—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Brad Thor\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Deadly good, a five-star scorcher from first page to last. The enigmatic and mysterious Finn is the next big thriller superstar.”\u003cb\u003e—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Robert Crais\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An edge-of-your-seat thriller with an original and engaging premise . . . Like speeding down a slalom course, once you get going there’s no stopping. This one is not to be missed.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Steve Berry\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Like Lee Child in his Jack Reacher novels, the authors can do more than power a pulse-racing narrative. . . . For readers who can't resist a bureaucracy-battling action hero, there’s a new kid on the block.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A blockbuster . . . hands down, one of the best crime novels of the year.”\u003cb\u003e—Jeffery Deaver, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eHunting Time\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eBrandon Webb\u003c\/b\u003e is a combat-decorated Navy SEAL sniper turned entrepreneur who has built two brands into an eight-figure business. As a U.S. Navy chief he was head instructor at the Navy SEAL sniper school, which produced some of America's most legendary snipers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eJohn David Mann\u003c\/b\u003e is coauthor of more than thirty books, including four \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestsellers and five national bestsellers. His writing has won multiple awards, including the Living Now Book Awards Evergreen Medal for its \"contributions to positive global change.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWebb and Mann have been writing together for over a decade, starting with their \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling memoir \u003ci\u003eThe Red Circle\u003c\/i\u003e. This is their third novel in the Finn X series.\u003cb\u003e1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico Santiago had a dream. He envisioned a thriving, dazzling Puerto Rico, envy of the States, jewel of the Caribbean, a transformation people would be talking about a hundred years from now, a metamorphosis that all started with his beloved city—­San Juan, pride of the commonwealth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Why not? Look what they’d done with New York City in the nineties. Clean up the street crime, purge the corruption. Lance the boil! Drain the infection!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Which meant taking down the Devil.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Yes, Nico was only one guy, a lowly homicide cop. But hey, every revolution started with some nobody who cared enough to act, right?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Which was why, at that moment, he was jumping over two toppled trash bins in the middle of the night, slipping on the grease-­covered garbage that spilled over the cobblestones, and falling on his ass in an alley in La Perla, the sketchiest neighborhood in the city.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “¡Mierda!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico swore under his breath as he scrabbled to his feet and kept running. Down a set of crumbling cement steps, across a narrow cobblestone street, hopping a chain-­link fence, he ran on, straining to catch any scraps of sound beyond the slow pounding of the surf below and his own ragged breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There! A scuffle of footsteps, dead ahead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Ha. The puta was heading for the shoreline—­as if the rocks and seawater could save him! Just like he’d thought he could shake Nico in the first place by trying to disappear down here into the city’s coastal underbelly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e La Perla: America’s oldest shantytown. A shunned strip, third of a mile long, jammed outside the city walls down on the rocky Atlantic shore. Built over the ruins of a slaughterhouse, abutting the city’s graveyard, original home of the homeless, the slaves, the non-­white servants. La Perla was everything Nico loved and hated about his homeland. The uncrushable spirit of its people. The legacy of oppression, poverty, and crime.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The place where they shot “Despacito,” the greatest music video ever made.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The one place in the city where, if you got into trouble at night, the police wouldn’t come for you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBut I’m coming for you now, puta. And you are in one shit-­pile of trouble, aren’t you?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He heard the man’s feet hit the cement boardwalk and go bolting off to the east. Nico followed, sprinting full-­out . . . three hundred feet . . . five hundred feet . . . \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He should have called his partner, shouldn’t be out here on his own, shouldn’t have been stalking this pendejo by himself. His superior officers had nixed the stakeout, nixed the whole investigation, in fact. Too hot, they said. Not worth the risk.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But it \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e worth the risk. Nico knew this in his gut. Nail this one guy and he could crack open the whole pineapple. Unmask the Devil himself and end this horrific reign of terror. He wouldn’t risk his partner’s badge, but he was fine with risking his own. So he’d laid the trap all by himself—­and he’d caught a rat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A thousand feet . . . \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Only he’d gotten just a shave too close and spooked the mamabicha.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At the end of the strip, where it landed at the foot of the old stone castle that marked La Perla’s eastern terminus, his quarry took a hard right, darting back into the tangle of shacks, a rabbit making a desperate dash for safety in the heart of his warren.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico didn’t bother shouting \u003ci\u003eStop!\u003c\/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003ePolice!\u003c\/i\u003e or \u003ci\u003eYou’re under arrest!\u003c\/i\u003e Didn’t waste his breath. Just took off after him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And then everything went silent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He skidded to a halt at the mouth of another narrow alleyway. Heard no fleeing footsteps, no scrambling over cobblestones. Only a dog barking and the distant curses of locals rousted from a hungover sleep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The fine hairs on Nico’s arms stood at attention.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He had to assume the man had a gun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e These days it seemed like everyone in Puerto Rico had a gun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He couldn’t see far enough into the alley to locate the man, was pretty sure the man couldn’t see him, either. But they were both there, still and silent, each trying to get the drop on the other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There was no nearby exit up through the city wall. The man was cornered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But so, for all practical purposes, was Nico.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Suddenly Nico felt an irrational chill shiver through him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Behind him, far above in the dark, stood an old castle guard sentry-­box. According to superstition, every guard who entered there would mysteriously vanish, never to be seen again. La Garita del Diablo, they called it. The Devil’s Tower.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eFocus, Nico.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He drew out his sidearm, took a few steadying breaths, and crouched down low to crawl his way into the alley, listening as hard as he could, straining to catch any telltale sounds of breath or movement from the other man, hearing nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He began to crawl.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e An endless minute ticked by. Then another.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A quarter of the way through.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Inch by agonizing inch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Three minutes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Halfway through.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And then a deep voice boomed out from the far end of the alley, shattering the silence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “¡Quieto, cabrón!” \u003ci\u003eFreeze, asshole!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico let out a harsh, ragged breath and felt his shoulders relax.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Caleb. His partner.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He almost laughed. No jodas\u003ci\u003e . . .\u003c\/i\u003e Caleb! That rum-­smooth, James Earl Jones voice, the reason they called him “Calypso.” Nico could pick that voice out of a crowd in the middle of a hurricane.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gracias a Dios.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He took another hard breath and straightened from his crouch, letting the tension drain from his back muscles as the adrenaline flood receded, leaving behind its wreckage of ravaged nerve endings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He had no idea how Cal had known he was here, why he was out here in the middle of the night when he ought to be home in bed or out drinking like any sane off-­duty cop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Didn’t know, didn’t care. He was just grateful his partner had showed. The chase was over. They were actually arresting this piece of shit, this stain of corruption—­and with what this one guy knew, they could bring down the whole house of cards. His investigation was about to be vindicated. Puerto Rico, his homeland, would be cleansed of this plague, given a fresh start.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This night would change their lives, forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eWe did it, Lucy. We really did it.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He walked toward the end of the alley, where a shaft of moonlight revealed the enormous figure of Cal, feet spread apart, gun held out in a two-­handed stance. The man Nico had been pursuing now knelt on the filthy alleyway floor, hands clasped behind his head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico smiled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “That’s no ordinary asshole,” he called out as he approached. “That particular asshole is deputy director of AP.” Autoridad de los Puertos: Ports Authority. In charge of all seaports in Puerto Rico. “That particular asshole runs the docks. And also happens to work for the Devil. A direct report, Cal! Ave María purísma, a direct report!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cal threw him a quick glance, eyebrows raised.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “This puta can ID the son of a bitch!” Nico added, just to make the point abundantly clear. He’d been right all along. His stakeout had paid off. They were about to bring down the Devil.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cal looked down at the kneeling man. “That true?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The man said nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cal nodded, impressed. “Damn.” He looked back at Nico. “Nice work. Stellar.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nico grinned and put up his palm for a high five.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cal raised his weapon and shot Nico point-­blank in the face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “¡Jesús!” The kneeling man nearly fell over. He stared up at Cal, his eyes wide as silver dollars. Then his face relaxed. He let out a rush of breath and broke into a grin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Gracias, compadre.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He got to his feet, shakily, brushing the filth off his knees. Grinned up at the big man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “De nada,” said Cal, and he plugged the man between the eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The second pistol shot reverberated through the dark streets and died away in the surf.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cal waited.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Listened.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nobody came.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He holstered his 9mm. Reached into a back trouser pocket, withdrew a handkerchief, and wiped his face with it. Held it out and looked at it without expression. In the faint moonlight the smear of Nico’s blood looked black.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He pocketed the cloth, then reached into an inside jacket pocket and slipped out a small leather case, the grain worn smooth. Zipped it open. A glint of moonlight flashed off the stainless steel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One by one, he began removing his precision tools.New York Times bestselling authors","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304355123429,"sku":"NP9780593599037","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593599037.jpg?v=1767722767","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/blind-fear-isbn-9780593599037","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}