When the Rogue Warrior travels to India to help supervise security arrangements for the upcoming Commonwealth Games, he and his team find themselves up to their skivvies in terrorists of all types--Pakistanis. But it's not just the Games that are being targeted for disruption--Demo Dick and his young bucks uncover a plot to steal all seventy nuclear warheads the Indians have amassed for war against the Pakistanis. Rogue Warrior must overcome various obstacles to prevent disaster: a high-tech remote controlled attack helicopter that makes the Apache look like a child's toy, an ominous chemical factory about to go boom, and tea and crumpets with the Queen. We're just kidding about the Queen. Marcinko and DeFelice sprinkle the action with trademark Rogue Warrior humor and non-PC asides in the latest installment of the best-selling series. As usual, the plot mixes fact with fiction, and incorporates some of the original SEAL Team 6 skipper's recent experiences in India. Marcinko is the real McCoy, a warrior who has lived it. (Stephen Coonts, New York Times bestselling author of The Assassin) The most colorful, hell-raising, bomb-throwing ex-SEAL commander of them all. ( Playboy ) RICHARD MARCINKO is a living, breathing hero--he was honored with the silver star and four bronze stars for valor, along with two Navy Commendation medals. After serving in Vietnam, he started and commanded SEAL Team 6, the Navy's anti-terrorist group, and Red Cell, a high-level anti-terrorist unit whose exploits, fictionalized for security and legal reasons, have formed the basis of his novels. Besides an active speaking and consulting calendar, Marcinko keeps his hand in the field as the president of a private international security company. He lives in Warrington, Virginia. JIM DeFELICE is the author of many military based thriller novels and is a frequent collaborator with Stephen Coonts, Larry Bond, and Richard Marcinko, among other New York Times bestselling authors. His solo novels include Leopards Kill, Threat Level Black , Coyote Bird , War Breaker , and My Brother's Keeper . He lives in New York. Rogue Warrior: Domino Theory By Richard Marcinko Forge Books Copyright © 2011 Richard Marcinko All right reserved. ISBN: 9780765325402 ( I )   If there’s one thing my sea daddies taught me, it’s that life is short. You gotta grab it by the balls while you still can, enjoy those little moments of pleasure. You know the moments I mean. Whether you’re drop-kicking the butt of some tango who’s dreaming of paradise while fondling his suicide vest, or maybe reaming a new orifice for a C21 officer, you have to make the most of the opportunity. Savor it. Life just doesn’t contain that many moments of personal triumph. But there are also moments when you have to relax and just let life flow by. Like, for instance, when you’re hurtling over the countryside in an Mi-8TV/India helicopter so close to the ground that the crew chief’s spit can rebound off a rock and hit the pilot in the face. Those tracers in the distance? Nothing to worry about. They’re not even firing in your direction. Yet. The surface-to-air missile battery looming to the right? What’s the fuss? That’s designed to shoot down airplanes, not helicopters. The fact that you’re flying over the disputed area of Kashmir, across one of the most volatile borders in the world? Certainly a plus. You don’t think? Then maybe it’s a good thing you weren’t with us. But truth be told, I couldn’t have been more relaxed if I was back at Rogue Manor, sipping a medicinal Sapphire prescribed by the good Dr. Bombay himself. There were plenty of reasons to relax. For one thing, I had no direct role in the operation. On paper at least. I was just there to observe, a guest of the Indian government. Of course, we weren’t in India at the time, but I’m never one to stand on technicalities. I was certainly ready to observe — watching the bullets fly out of my MP5 counts, right? So why shouldn’t I relax and let the helo toss me around a bit? *   *   * This would normally be the part where I’d explain what the hell I was doing in Kashmir. But my editor likes it when I get right to the action, so we’ll save the explanation for a little later. For now, let’s just say I wasn’t in Kashmir, or India for that matter, to knit sweaters. *   *   * The helo banked into a sharp turn to tuck around the mountain. Treetops scraped the undercarriage, tussling it a bit before letting go. Our Mi-8TV/India was a special demonstration version of the Russian Mi-8TV, which itself is a souped-up Mi-17 with guns, missiles, and assorted nasty shit designed to complicate the enemy’s day. You can think of it as Russia’s answer to the MH-60DAP, the armed Blackhawk hand-built to ferry spec op troops deep behind the bad guys’ lines (DAP = Deep Armed Penetrator, or some vulgar variation thereof). The Indians had recently purchased several Mi-17s and were reviewing the Mi-8TV/India as part of their plans to upg