“You mean, to drop us into a blender,” Carla muttered.
“What good would it have done to warn you? Hmm? We didn’t understand what had happened the first time; I’d pried nothing coherent out of Chris’s revived brain, and the client was paying well enough that the Company committed not just one, but three fresh platoons to the effort so that there would be backup in case anything went wrong, and we had to roll in the cavalry.
“They didn’t even want me on this contract in the first place! But I told them it had to be me because I was there the first time. And I had to write all those letters to all those families with all those death pensions attached. I had to know what happened. And I also had Chris—or what passed for him—along for the ride. Sending him back down seemed like the only real shot at getting something concrete. For the sake of his legacy.”
“You could have told us the truth about him,” Theo said.
“Like hell, kid. He wasn’t any good as a chief anymore. He barely remembered enough to function as a low-level squad grunt. He didn’t even remember his own goddamned name, okay? He was blank. Except for the blotches that weren’t. I hoped that putting him back on the surface, in a tactical situation, would help gel some of those blotches back together. And I was right.”
“Well, congratulations,” Broussard said sarcastically.
“Fuck you, Chris. If you really are back—and I mean back back—you may be sitting in this chair someday soon. Then you can judge me. Until then? Be thankful you’re alive, through a string of miracles even I can’t entirely believe.”
The cyborg was silent.
“So,” Theo said. “What happens to us now?”
“First of all,” Silver Falcon said, “you all get bonuses. Very, very hefty bonuses. Attached to some very generous time off. Then? Well, now that we actually know what we’re dealing with on Echo Tango Six, we have to consider our options. There’s a whole pre-Union base down there. Intact. Nobody has looted, messed with, or destroyed any of it. Since the F11 claim did not pan out, and the Company has taken a substantial hit on overhead—from the reduced contractual severance—my superiors are eager to recoup their losses.”
“And you?” Theo asked. “What do you get out of it?”
The older man rubbed his hands at his eye sockets.
“We’ve lost two platoons on Echo Tango Six. Almost 60 good, hard-working, professional men and women. When we build a memorial to these people, I want it to be because they paved the way for something truly groundbreaking in Human history. A milestone. That pre-Union missile facility down there may or may not be the greatest discovery in Human history. But I want us to sure as hell find out. To decide whether or not the price—very high, very painful—was worth it. So we can tell their spouses, their parents, and their children that they were heroes. Is that good enough for you, son?”
Theo considered. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Good. Because I want you back down there. And her too. And even Chris, despite the fact he’s hating me today. We can’t afford to stall. The Jivool survivor you picked up will be only the first of many of his kind to come—assuming their client is still interested. I want to make sure that missile base is in Company hands—Human hands! So that there can be no doubt whatsoever that we’ve got the claim. To technology rights. To spinoff development. To academic and xeno-archeological fees—assuming we can protect and pacify the surface enough to let researchers go down.
“Besides, having you with Green and Gold will help them save lives too. What do you say?”
Theo looked over at Carla, who stared back at him.
“Crazy enough to try it again? This time, knowing what we’re in for?”
“If the paycheck is big enough,” she remarked dryly.
“I can guarantee it will be,” Silver Falcon said, smiling for the first time.
# # # # #
About the Editors
A bestselling Science Fiction/Fantasy author and speaker, Chris Kennedy is a former school principal and naval aviator with over 3,000 hours flying attack and reconnaissance aircraft. Chris is also a member of the SFWA and the SCBWI.
Chris’ full-length novels on Amazon include the “Occupied Seattle” military fiction duology, the “Theogony” and “Codex Regius” science fiction trilogies and the “War for Dominance” fantasy trilogy. Chris is also the author of the #1 Amazon self-help book, “Self-Publishing for Profit: How to Get Your Book Out of Your Head and Into the Stores.”
Find out more about Chris Kennedy and get the free prequel, “Shattered Crucible” at:
http://chriskennedypublishing.com/
_____________________
Located in rural Tennessee, Mark Wandrey has been creating new worlds since he was old enough to write. After penning countless short stories, he realized novels were his real calling and hasn’t looked back since. A lifetime of diverse jobs, extensive travels, and living in most areas of the country have uniquely equipped him with experiences to color his stories in ways many find engaging and thought provoking.
Find out more about Mark Wandrey and get the free prequel, “Gateway to Union,” at
http://www.worldmaker.us/news-flash-sign-up-page/
Four Horsemen Titles
Cartwright’s Cavaliers
Asbaran Solutions
Winged Hussars (coming soon)
The Golden Horde (coming soon)
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The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of the Revelations Cycle:
Cartwright’s Cavaliers
___________________
Mark Wandrey
Available now from Seventh Seal Press
eBook, Paperback, and Audio
Excerpt from “Cartwright’s Cavaliers:”
The last two operational tanks were trapped on their chosen path. Faced with destroyed vehicles front and back, they cut sideways to the edge of the dry river bed they’d been moving along and found several large boulders to maneuver around that allowed them to present a hull-down defensive position. Their troopers rallied on that position. It was starting to look like they’d dig in when Phoenix 1 screamed over and strafed them with dual streams of railgun rounds. A split second later, Phoenix 2 followed on a parallel path. Jim was just cheering the air attack when he saw it. The sixth damned tank, and it was a heavy.
“I got that last tank,” Jim said over the command net.
“Observe and stand by,” Murdock said.
“We’ll have these in hand shortly,” Buddha agreed, his transmission interspersed with the thudding of his CASPer firing its magnet accelerator. “We can be there in a few minutes.”
Jim examined his battlespace. The tank was massive. It had to be one of the fusion-powered beasts he’d read about. Which meant shields and energy weapons. It was heading down the same gap the APC had taken; the tank was heading toward Second Squad, and fast.
“Shit,” he said. He had to stop them.
“Jim,” Hargrave said, “we’re in position. What are you doing?”
“Leading the charge,” Jim said as he jumped out from the rock wall.
* * * * *
Get “Cartwright’s Cavaliers” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MRZKM95/.
Find out more about Mark Wandrey and “Cartwright’s Cavaliers” at: http://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/mark-wandrey/.
The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of the Kin Wars Saga:
Wraithkin
___________________
Jason Cordova
Now Available from Theogony Books
eBook, Paperback, and Audio
Excerpt from “Wraithkin:”
Prologue
The lifeless body of his fellow agent on the bed confirmed the undercover operation was thoroughly busted.
“Crap,” Agent Andrew Espinoza, Dominion Intelligence Bureau, said as he stepped fully into the dimly lit room and carefully made his way to the filthy bed in which his fellow agent lay. He
turned away from the ruined body of his friend and scanned the room for any sign of danger. Seeing none, he quickly walked back out of the room to where the slaves he had rescued earlier were waiting.
“Okay, let’s keep quiet now,” he reminded them. “I’ll go first, and you follow me. I don’t think there are any more slavers in the warehouse. Understand?”
They all nodded. He offered them a smile of confidence, though he had lied. He knew there was one more slaver in the warehouse, hiding near the side exit they were about to use. He had a plan to deal with that person, however. First he had to get the slaves to safety.
He led the way, his pistol up and ready as he guided the women through the dank and musty halls of the old, rundown building. It had been abandoned years before, and the slaver ring had managed to get it for a song. In fact, they had even qualified for a tax-exempt purchase due to the condition of the neighborhood around it. The local constable had wanted the property sold, and the slaver ring had stepped in and offered him a cut if he gave it to them. The constable had readily agreed, and the slavers had turned the warehouse into the processing plant for the sex slaves they sold throughout the Dominion. Andrew knew all this because he had been the one to help set up the purchase in the first place.
Now, though, he wished he had chosen another locale.
He stopped the following slaves as he came to the opening which led into one of the warehouse’s spacious storage areas. Beyond that lay their final destination, and he was dreading the confrontation with the last slaver. He checked his gun and grunted in surprise as he saw he had two fewer rounds left than he had thought. He shook his head and charged the pistol.
“Stay here and wait for my signal,” he told the rescued slaves. They nodded in unison.
He took a deep, calming breath. No matter what happened, he had to get the slaves to safety. He owed them that much. His sworn duty was to protect the Dominion from people like the slavers, and someone along the way had failed these poor women. He exhaled slowly, crossed himself and prayed to God, the Emperor and any other person who might have been paying attention.
He charged into the room, his footsteps loud on the concrete flooring. He had his gun up as he ducked behind a small, empty crate. He peeked over the top and snarled; he had been hoping against hope the slaver was facing the other direction.
Apparently Murphy is still a stronger presence in my life than God, he thought as he locked eyes with the last slaver. The woman’s eyes widened in recognition and shock, and he knew he would only have one chance before she killed them all.
He dove to the right of the crate and rolled, letting his momentum drag him out of the slaver’s immediate line of fire. He struggled to his feet as her gun swung up and began to track him, but he was already moving, sprinting back to the left while closing in on her. She fired twice, both shots ricocheting off the floor and embedding themselves in the wall behind him.
Andrew skid to a stop and took careful aim. It was a race, the slaver bringing her gun around as his own came to bear upon her. The muzzles of both guns flashed simultaneously, and Andrew grunted as pain flared in his shoulder.
A second shot punched him in the gut and he fell, shocked the woman had managed to get him. He lifted his head and saw that while he had hit her, her wound wasn’t nearly as bad as his. He had merely clipped her collarbone and, while it would smart, it was in no way fatal. She took aim on him and smiled coldly.
Andrew swiftly brought his gun up with his working arm and fired one final time. The round struck true, burrowing itself right between the slaver’s eyes. She fell backwards and lay still, dead. He groaned and dropped the gun, pain blossoming in his stomach. He rolled onto his back and stared at the old warehouse’s ceiling.
That sucked, he groused. He closed his eyes and let out a long, painful breath.
* * * * *
Get “Wraithkin” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N0RGYZS.
Find out more about Jason Cordova and “Wraithkin” at:
http://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/jason-cordova/
A Fistful of Credits: Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 5) Page 41
