conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about York, Times, EXTREME with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Executive Power'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about York, Times, EXTREME with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Executive Power: CIA field agent Mitch Rapp's cover has been blown following his last assignment, preventing Saddam Hussein from obtaining nuclear weapons.\nRapp receives public acknowledgment by the president in response to the latest Congressional leak to the media.\nThough the praise is of the highest quality, the President might as well have placed a bulls-eye on Rapp's chest and that of his loved ones by singling him out as the most important person in the fight to counter terrorism.\nThe spotlight makes the former covert operator an ideal international target for eradication by terrorists as the symbol he has become.\nRapp moves from CIA operative duties to that of a counter-terrorism bureaucrat.\nAs special advisor on counter-terrorism to CIA director dr Irene Kennedy, Rapp uncomfortably sits in an office.\nThe leak had to be in either the State Department or the Philippine diplomatic corps, but nobody knows for sure.\nHowever, worse yet is that someone is trying to cause a Jihad on a scale never before seen and that unknown invisible individual is close to achieving the goal with only a too visible Rapp in the way.\nRapp leads a team to avenge that loss by defeating the Philippine terrorist network that killed two SEAL team members and rescuing the American hostages.\nIn order to successfully accomplish this mission he must keep its existence from the turncoats who betrayed those who went before him.\nThe coincidental plot-line has forces plotting to upset the tenuous balance in the Middle East's geopolitical situation.\nA flamboyant Saudi Prince, who is banished from the Kingdom, elicits the help of a Palestinian assassin to murder the leaders of terrorist cells as well as Saudi and Palestinian Ambassadors in the hopes of dissolving US support for Israel and the eventual establishment of an official Palestinian state.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about \nHowever, Islamic, Navy, everything.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Executive Power: CIA field agent Mitch Rapp's cover has been blown following his last assignment, preventing Saddam Hussein from obtaining nuclear weapons. \nRapp receives public acknowledgment by the president in response to the latest Congressional leak to the media. \nThough the praise is of the highest quality, the President might as well have placed a bulls-eye on Rapp's chest and that of his loved ones by singling him out as the most important person in the fight to counter terrorism. \nThe spotlight makes the former covert operator an ideal international target for eradication by terrorists as the symbol he has become. \nRapp moves from CIA operative duties to that of a counter-terrorism bureaucrat. \nAs special advisor on counter-terrorism to CIA director dr Irene Kennedy, Rapp uncomfortably sits in an office. \nHowever, everything changes when radical Islamic terrorists ambush Navy SEALs on a top-secret rescue mission in the Philippines. \nThe leak had to be in either the State Department or the Philippine diplomatic corps, but nobody knows for sure. \nHowever, worse yet is that someone is trying to cause a Jihad on a scale never before seen and that unknown invisible individual is close to achieving the goal with only a too visible Rapp in the way. \nRapp leads a team to avenge that loss by defeating the Philippine terrorist network that killed two SEAL team members and rescuing the American hostages. \nIn order to successfully accomplish this mission he must keep its existence from the turncoats who betrayed those who went before him. \nThe coincidental plot-line has forces plotting to upset the tenuous balance in the Middle East's geopolitical situation. \nA flamboyant Saudi Prince, who is banished from the Kingdom, elicits the help of a Palestinian assassin to murder the leaders of terrorist cells as well as Saudi and Palestinian Ambassadors in the hopes of dissolving US support for Israel and the eventual establishment of an official Palestinian state.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Executive Power
  To my agent, Sloan Harris, and Katherine Cluverius at ICM for all of your hard work and candid advice. To Carl Pohlad for all of your generosity and friendship, and for providing me with a quiet place to write. To Larry Johnson for once again being an endless source of information. To Sean Stone for backstopping me on a few ideas. To Bill Harlow, the director of public affairs for the CIA, for once again patiently answering an endless stream of questions. To Paul Evancoe, a retired SEAL commander, who was kind enough to offer me his wisdom. To FBI Special Agent Brad Garrett, who has devoted an entire career to locking up the bad guys. And as always to all of my sources who wish to remain anonymous. Any mistakes in this novel are mine and mine alone.
  The sleek gray craft sliced through the warm water and humid night air of the Philippine Sea at twenty-five knots, its twin engines rumbling toward its destination with a guttural moan. The boat was in violation of international law and at least one treaty, but the men on board didn't care. Technicalities, legalities and diplomacy were for other people to sort out, people who sat in comfortable leather chairs with Ivy League degrees matted and framed on their office walls. The men standing on the deck of the Mark V special operations craft were here to get a job done, and in their minds, it was a job that should have been taken care of months ago.
  The low profile Mark V special operations craft was designed to sneak in under radar. It had been designed specifically for the United States Navy SEALs, and it was their choice of platform when running maritime insertions. It was eighty-two feet in length but the boat only drafted five feet when it was fully loaded and dead in the water. Instead of the standard screw it was propelled by two waterjets. All of this allowed the boat to maneuver very close to the beach with great precision.
  Five men wearing black flight helmets and night vision goggles manned four.50-caliber machine guns and a 40mm grenade launcher. Eight other men dressed in jungle BDUs and floppy hats sat on the gunwales of the rubber combat raiding craft they would soon launch off the Mark V and went over their equipment for at least the tenth time. Their faces were smeared with warlike green and black camouflage paint, but their expressions were calm.
  Lieutenant Jim Devolis looked down at his SEAL squad and watched them go through their last check. He'd observed them doing it countless times before and for some reason it always reminded him of baboons picking bugs from each other at the zoo. They meticulously examined their H harnesses to make sure every snap was secure and all grenades taped. The communications gear was checked and rechecked. Fresh batteries had been placed in everyone's night vision goggles, and along with backup batteries the expensive optical devices were stowed in waterproof pouches attached to their H harnesses. Weapons were sandproofed with condoms secured over the muzzles and a bead of silicone sealant around the magazines and bolt covers. The only person wearing a rucksack tonight would be the squad's medical corpsman, and Devolis sincerely hoped they wouldn't be needing his expertise. The group was traveling light tonight. No MREs, only a couple of Power Bars for each man. The plan was to be in and out before the sun came up. Just the way the SEALs liked it.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' was cruel enough, but after you added in the fact that the men had just gone to bed thirty minutes earlier and had not been allowed more than an hour of sleep in three days, it seemed downright inhuman.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: As a general rule, when the weather was inclement people stayed put. It didn't matter if it was the South Pacific or the South Bronx. It was human nature to seek shelter and try to stay either warm or dry or cool depending on the conditions.
  SEALs were the exception to this rule. Knowing that they could and would be called on to perform an operation at a moment's notice, regardless of the weather, they took it upon themselves to train in the worst of conditions. It was also why they had to endure hell week during their selection process.
  Candidates were deprived of sleep for days on end and marched continually into the cold surf of the Pacific at all hours, in soiled sandy uniforms. Most of them could handle the physical torment, the academic rigors were challenging, but not overtaxing, and the verbal assaults from the instructors were for the most part ignored. It was the cumulative effect of all of these, however, that got to the SEAL candidates.
  By the time hell week arrived they were already in a weakened state. Their bodies were sore, their nerves were frayed and then the very bedrock of mental stability was jerked from underneath them. They were robbed of sleep and warmth, and when the human body is deprived of those two basic necessities individuals began to do strange and unpredictable things.
  This was when most of the men broke and rang the bell, signaling that they were dropping out. To the average citizen, waking up a group of young men by slamming metal trash can lids together at 2:00 A.M. was cruel enough, but after you added in the fact that the men had just gone to bed thirty minutes earlier and had not been allowed more than an hour of sleep in three days, it seemed downright inhuman.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: They all drank and then the president added, "These are truly momentous times, and the two of you have played a major role in getting these parties to sit down. Who knows," he added with a hopeful glint in his eye, "by the end of the week we could finally have peace in the Middle East." The president noticed Rapp's doubtful expression and asked, "You don't think that's possible?"
  Rapp hesitated, and then said, "Sir, I think by the end of the week you'll probably have a document that says there's going to be peace in the Middle East, but I'm a skeptic as to whether or not that peace will ever become a reality."
  Rapp reached behind his back with his left hand and drew his gun. He wanted to make his point with the president, bring him back down from the clouds. This part of the peace process was easy, with civilized men and women gathering in a magnificent city like Paris, talking about noble causes while the world press lauded them with accolades. At night they all went to bed secretly dreaming that one day soon they would win the Nobel Peace Prize, while several thousand miles away young Palestinian boys and girls were being trained to blow themselves up in the name of their god. Those so-called martyrs cared little about documents signed in fancy rooms by fancy men. It was not possible to reason with unreasonable people.
  Rapp held his gun up in the palm of his hand for the president to see, and said, "This is the only thing the zealots understand, sir. If you want peace in the Middle East they need to be dealt with. Only then will Israelis and Palestinians be able to live side by side."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: They all drank and then the president added, "These are truly momentous times, and the two of you have played a major role in getting these parties to sit down. Who knows," he added with a hopeful glint in his eye, "by the end of the week we could finally have peace in the Middle East." The president noticed Rapp's doubtful expression and asked, "You don't think that's possible?"
  Rapp hesitated, and then said, "Sir, I think by the end of the week you'll probably have a document that says there's going to be peace in the Middle East, but I'm a skeptic as to whether or not that peace will ever become a reality."
  Rapp reached behind his back with his left hand and drew his gun. He wanted to make his point with the president, bring him back down from the clouds. This part of the peace process was easy, with civilized men and women gathering in a magnificent city like Paris, talking about noble causes while the world press lauded them with accolades. At night they all went to bed secretly dreaming that one day soon they would win the Nobel Peace Prize, while several thousand miles away young Palestinian boys and girls were being trained to blow themselves up in the name of their god. Those so-called martyrs cared little about documents signed in fancy rooms by fancy men. It was not possible to reason with unreasonable people.
  Rapp held his gun up in the palm of his hand for the president to see, and said, "This is the only thing the zealots understand, sir. If you want peace in the Middle East they need to be dealt with. Only then will Israelis and Palestinians be able to live side by side.