FIREWORKS is the third adventure featuring scuba divers Terry Hunter and her husband, retired NYPD Detective Joe Manetta. 

In Pakistan, A Navy SEAL intercepts information indicating Al Qaeda is planning an attack in New York City, when Queen Elizabeth and the super liner Queen Mary 2 will visit during July 4th celebrations. Joe’s former partner, Detective Bill Ryan, requests their help aiding the NYPD and Federal Agents in preventing the attack. So, Terry, Joe, and a very remarkable dolphin, journey from Cozumel’s crystal Caribbean Sea to New York’s murky Hudson River. But the terrorists are planning a bigger bang than anyone suspects, and Homeland Security forces have only days to unravel the deadly plot.

Reviews For FIREWORKS

Paul Mila has done it again, with the third novel in his thrilling scuba diving series. Mila has an uncanny flair for putting readers into the thick of non-stop action.  Throw in a heroic dolphin, exciting underwater drama, and you won’t put this unique thriller down until the explosive conclusion. My hat’s off to you, Paul. Well done!  

Mike Monahan, author of BARRACUDA.

Paul Mila’s popular underwater duo Terry and Joe have settled into a quiet, domestic life when global terrorism’s harsh reality intrudes upon their idyllic island paradise.  They set off for the Big Apple to help the NYPD and Federal Agents foil terrorists’ plans to assassinate Queen Elizabeth and sink the Queen Mary 2.  In this third adventure-mystery, Terry and Joe are aided by Terry’s dolphin friend, Notchka, as they race against time to prevent a major disaster.  Another terrific page-turner that will keep you guessing all the way!   

Judith Hemenway, author of THE UNIVERSE NEXT DOOR. 

Pakistan, Near the Afghanistan Border

 May 12th

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         &nb sp;  Tony Delgado never heard the incoming automatic weapons fire until his world exploded around him. Crack, phitt, the first round whistled past his ear. Tat-tat-tat - phitt, zing, zing, a staccato burst, another close miss, two ricochets. Bullet-blasted rocks stung his cheek. Tony wiped blood from his face and feared he might not celebrate his twenty-eighth birthday. “Shit!” he exclaimed, grabbing his M16 and floppy camouflage hat, containing his most treasured possession.

“Haul ass, buddy!” Tony’s internal survival voice screamed at him. He leaped from his rocky outpost, attempting to outrun his fate. 

         &nb sp;  Six thousand miles away at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, Agent John Gillen sat inside a darkened, console-lit room, viewing Pakistan’s mountainous terrain from two thousand feet above, like a hunting hawk seeking prey. Using GPS coordinates Delgado had transmitted, he searched for his target: a band of enemy fighters whom Delgado had identified as a high-value target, sitting outside a cave. Gillen skillfully maneuvered an unmanned Predator drone using a joystick, not unlike one his children use to play their video games. Gillen mulled over his absurd situation. Earlier that morning, as his neighbors left their driveways going to work on the Hill in D.C., or at the high-tech companies dominating northern Virginia’s suburban corporate parks, Gillen drove off to war. He thought, forget about the supermarket shopping list Jean stuffed in your pocket and focus on your mission!

 “Got it!” Gillen exclaimed, finally spotting the Al Qaeda encampment on the tiny aircraft’s real-time video system. His brow furrowed and his heart raced as he concentrated, lining up the Predator for the kill.

“Okay, shoot when ready,” a voice said from behind. Biting his lip, Gillen pressed the button releasing one of the drone’s two Hellfire missiles. He grimaced, watching the group suddenly dash inside the cave, led by a white robed figure, taller than the rest. “Damn!” exclaimed senior agent Stephen Andrews, looking over Gillen’s shoulder. “What the hell spooked them?” he asked, rhetorically. Seconds later they watched the cave disappear, obliterated in a violent smoky explosion. Gillen circled the drone for a second shot, but when the smoke cleared no human targets appeared within the rocky rubble at the cave entrance. Telemetry data indicated the drone’s fuel supply was low, so he guided the small craft toward its secret Afghanistan base. “Nice try,” said Andrews, patting Gillen’s back as he left the room. “I’ll tell the boss what happened.”

“Thanks, Steve,” sighed Gillen, frustrated. He took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie. Salty perspiration stung his blue eyes and he wiped his brow. He stared at the blank monitor. I hope Tony gets out alive, he prayed.  

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Paul J. Mila retired after a successful corporate career, and now devotes his time to writing, scuba diving around the world, underwater photography, and speaking to groups about ocean conservation. 

He has enjoyed the opportunity to photograph and dive with Caribbean reef sharks in the Bahamas, humpback whales in the Dominican Republic and in the South Pacific Tonga Islands, diverse sea life in the Cayman Islands, Cozumel, Bonaire, Hawaii, Antigua, and in his home waters off Long Island, NY. 

Paul’s underwater pictures have been featured in magazines, on web sites related to scuba diving, and shown at the Mind, Body, Spirit Festival in Australia.

Following the advice of writers who said to write about what you know and like, he has incorporated the ocean and diving as the core of his writing.  FIREWORKS is his third novel. Diving in the same waters as the characters in his books enables him to write with realism, and to describe for non-diving readers the beauty and wonder of exploring our undersea world.

He and his family reside in Carle Place, New York, a small town on Long Island. 

You can contact Paul directly via email at pjmila@ hotmail.com or visit his personal website, www.cozumelisparadise.com