“Twilight At Wolfie's” Behind the Scenes

An Excerpt From The Authors Of The Night Police Series

Today, we’re thrilled to share an exclusive sneak peek into our creative process with a "DRAFT" excerpt from Twilight at Wolfie’s, the next gripping chapter in the Night Police Series by Chris Berg and Paul James Smith. This blog post pulls back the curtain on the raw, messy collision of real-life intrigue and fiction that fuels our storytelling. Dive into this early glimpse of the book before it hits the shelves!

To truly understand the world of Twilight at Wolfie’s, you have to step back into the Miami of the 1960s—a city alive with contradictions. It was a place where the impossible seemed routine, and the lines between law and crime blurred into a murky, neon haze. The decade crackled with the fallout of the Cuban Revolution, the CIA’s shadowy operations, and the brazen influence of the Mob—each force shaping the Magic City’s destiny in ways both dazzling and dangerous. This was a landscape where organized crime rubbed shoulders with government agents, and the biggest names in entertainment lit up Collins Avenue while darker deals unfolded behind closed doors.

After Castro’s takeover of Cuba, the stakes soared. The CIA, with former OSS operatives like Ted Shackley, Paul Helliwell, and E. Howard Hunt at the helm, spun a web of front companies, banks, and even airlines—all to push back against the communist threat just ninety miles south. At the same time, mobsters like Santo Trafficante, Sam Giancana, and Meyer Lansky, eager to reclaim their lost fortunes in Havana, found themselves in an uneasy alliance with the government. The result? A Miami that glittered with celebrity and scandal, but simmered with menace beneath the surface.

In our excerpt, Nic Provenza, Miami-Dade's Intel chief and our protagonist, is caught in the crossfire between Tate—a rogue CIA operative and Irwin Klein, a Mafia boss with a target on his back.

This showdown plays out inside a vast warehouse at a sprawling shipbreaker compound—a leviathan’s graveyard where rusted ship skeletons loom. The air smells of oil and rust—echoes of its abandoned past. It is nearly pitch-black, lit only by shafts of moonlight through broken skylights—a perfect setting for a deal gone bad in the heart of the Magic City.

Against this backdrop, Twilight at Wolfie’s unfolds—so, settle into the swirling chaos of the Cold War, the Mob, and the men who played both sides. Welcome to the world of the Night Police.

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Excerpt

With a grunt, he yanked Klein to his feet and steered him down the catwalk toward the service elevator.

Unseen, Tate hadn't fled. In the inky blackness below, he scrambled down the service ladder as quickly as his pudgy body would allow, urgency propelling him. Each rung was a race against time, his heart pounding. He was desperate to find Klein's fallen gun. The faint light barely pierced the shadows as he scanned the debris-strewn floor. He needed to take action; Nic and Klein were standing between him and $40 million.

Frustration surged as Tate hunted the gun. Time was slipping. He needed another way.

In his panic, Tate spotted the elevator shaft, a rusted skeleton hidden in the shadows. A sound above—the detective herding Klein into the creaky elevator—snapped him into focus.

As the ancient mechanism groaned to life, Tate raced to devise a plan. As much as he wanted to run, that wouldn't solve his problems. The elevator's descent echoed the coming confrontation.

Level by level, a sequence unfolded—a sharp clank followed by a groaning protest—Tate felt the countdown in his bones, each sound intensifying his anticipation and dread.

His eyes swept across the cavernous space, locking on the solution—a massive steel beam suspended by a tangle of frayed cables and weathered pulleys. He traced the cables to a control box. A plan crystallized. The kill zone: outside the elevator doors.

The elevator's whir grew louder, descending. He knew he had less than a minute before the ancient car reached ground level. Tate slow-sprinted to the control box, adrenaline surging through him. He yanked open the lid, his sharp mind decoding the controls. With swift motions, he positioned the I-beam, waiting for the decisive moment.

The elevator jerked to a stop with a heavy thump, the air thick with tension as it settled into silence. Moments later, Nic and Klein emerged into the gloom, but Nic's street-honed instincts sensed a looming danger. A mechanical drone overhead confirmed his fears. "Klein! Run!" he shouted, his voice cracking with alarm.

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Stay thrilled,

Chris Berg and Paul James Smith

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