March 1966, Dalat, Republic of Vietnam.
Green Beret First Lieutenant Harrison Bennett stalks his latest target, an elusive Viet Cong Colonel. After weeks of hunting, a man’s face fills the rifle scope.
A deep breath, a partial exhale, a tap from the observer confirming the target.
The trigger squeeze and rifle recoil meld into the muscle memory of training, the pink mist replaces the man’s face, and it is done.
March 2016, Providence, Rhode Island.
Attorney-at-Law Harrison “Hawk” Bennett sits at his desk going over his morning schedule. His phone rings.
His world is about to change forever.
Walking into the reception office, his memories go into overdrive. His eyes see what his mind cannot accept.
A saffron-robed Buddhist monk stands and smiles. A face he last saw seconds before he ended its life stares back at him.
A specter from his nightmare stands before him.
“It has been a long time, Lieutenant Bennett, and a long way from our time in Dalat.”
“I thought you were dead, Colonel. They gave me a medal for killing you.”
Bennett finds himself thrust into a world of treason, double-cross, and a justice department bent on vengeance. Those he once fought alongside have become the enemy.
Forced to choose between his dedication to the law and the memories of the dead and dying in the jungles of Vietnam, Hawk faces his greatest challenge; defending a man he watched die from a government gone rabid over protecting its secrets.
Ofttimes the most tragic casualties of war are those who survive.