Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

by Craig Martelle

  “Where’s Mister Smith?” Shonna asked.

  “Too late, bitch,” it replied as its broken bones were stitching back together. The Forsaken tried to act tough, but the second it had arrived from Los Angeles, it had known it was nothing but a minion, a pawn in Mr. Smith’s deadly game.

  “Never too late, bitch,” Shonna replied coldly. With a full swing of her new shortsword, she removed its head.

  Merrit hurried to Skippy, while Shonna helped Butch. She changed into human form. “I guess I’m out of it for a while,” she cried, looking at the gash in her side.

  Skippy changed. He staggered two steps and fell over. One arm dangled, flopping on the ground as he hit.

  They used a sword and scabbard as a splint, cutting strips from the Forsaken’s leather clothing to use as ties.

  When Skippy came to, Butch was wrapped up and so was he.

  “Not quite good as new, but you’ll get there,” Merrit reassured them both. “Back to the pod.”

  They helped the naked and injured people to walk, making for slow going. They hadn’t realized the distance they’d covered earlier when they ran headlong to cut off the Forsaken.

  “What do you think he meant that we were too late?” Shonna asked.

  “I don’t know, but we got some sweet swords out of it, and it’s about time, too!” Merrit proclaimed.

  “There is that,” Shonna conceded.

  ***

  Char fired at the two Forsaken she could see, but they fired back with semi-automatic Uzis. She was tossed backward when the first round dug into her chest. She lost her aim and wasted a silver bullet that she sent wide.

  Joseph went left and Andrew went right. They both froze when the third Forsaken appeared in the doorway behind them. They felt a bone-chilling fear wash over them. Their will to go on was gone.

  Only fear remained.

  Char fought through her fear, aimed, and fired. The round hit the Forsaken in the forehead, but it was a glancing blow, bouncing off an abnormally tough skull. The Forsaken staggered to the side from the force of the impact.

  Joseph and Andrew were freed and lunged for their two brothers. Hand-to-hand battles ensued. Strike, dodge, parry, counterstrike, block.

  Neither had an advantage over the other until Char’s well-aimed rounds slammed through the enemy’s heads. They weren’t killing blows, but it knocked them off-balance enough to give both Joseph and Andrew the upper hand.

  They finished the fights quickly, knocking their opponents out and then beating their heads on the concrete floor of the Forsaken’s command center. The third Forsaken, who Char assumed was Mr. Smith, had disappeared down the hallway from which he’d earlier appeared.

  Terry entered behind Char. Together, they vaulted a low table on a beeline for the hallway.

  Sue and Timmons arrived in time to watch them go. They could feel only one Forsaken ahead. Sue jogged after Terry and Char, but Timmons remained behind to play with the electronic toys.

  The tunnel turned once and then a second time. Terry and Char entered an area that appeared to be new construction. The walls were rougher and the tunnel sloped downward.

  Even their enhanced eyes could not penetrate the inky blackness.

  “He’s ahead,” Char said.

  “You can run, Mister Smith, but you’re only going to die tired,” Terry taunted as they followed at a measured pace. They hung on to each other as they moved forward. When they hit the bottom, the lights flicked on. They were weak, but shone sufficiently that they could see Mr. Smith on the upward slope, watching them and smiling.

  He waved.

  “RUN!” Terry yelled as they turned around and accelerated away from the Forsaken with every fiber of their being. The tunnel exploded behind them, propelling them upward until they slammed into the wall where the tunnel turned.

  They picked themselves up and dusted each other off.

  “Motherfucker,” Terry growled, looking at the complete blockage where there had been a tunnel moments earlier. He pulled the comm device from his pocket and attempted to contact Shonna and Merrit. The tunnel seemed to lead in their general direction.

  “No signal?” Terry looked oddly at the device.

  “We’re in the heart of darkness,” Char stated philosophically. “Let’s dismantle some of this shit and make sure no one can use it anymore.”

  “The pod!” Terry exclaimed.

  Char shook her head. “Ted reprogrammed it so no one else can use it, but if that’s where he’s headed, we can cut him off.”

  “He originally programmed it. There’s probably a backdoor.” They took off running once again, passing Sue, Timmons, Joseph, and Andrew in the command center. “Secure this place!”

  They ran up the stairs, through the tunnel, and outside. They passed the platoon that was spread out from the bunker to the south, where the secondary exit tunnel was located.

  “Go in and head down. Joseph and Andrew need a hand. Don’t destroy anything until Timmons looks at it,” Terry yelled over his shoulder at Boris. “Glad you made it!”

  Boris watched them go.

  “We missed it, don’t you mean,” Boris grumbled, having not seen an enemy or taken his weapon off safe. “Always a bridesmaid…”

  When Terry and Char reached the pod, it was buttoned up. They left it closed as they waited. Char sensed a Forsaken far to the west. It continued into the ocean and disappeared.

  “I’ll be damned. That asshat had a submarine,” she sneered, feeling like victory had been snatched from them.

  They saw Shonna and Merrit helping Butch and Skippy. Terry and Char hurried to lend a hand.

  Terry finally opened the pod and they delivered the two injured Werewolves. Shonna ran for their clothes while Merrit explained what had happened.

  Char used the pod’s comm system to contact the groups on the ground. Camilla’s report didn’t make her happy.

  “Marcie, report to the pod,” Char ordered. A stretcher had been added because of the injuries the FDG had had in the past.

  Terry removed it from its rack. “I hate carrying Gene,” he grumbled. “Still better to carry an injured Gene than a dead Werebear.”

  “Ted? Has anyone seen Ted?” Char broadcast.

  “He’s here with us,” one of the corporals reported. Char’s head felt like it was going to explode.

  “Where’s here?” she said, trying not to sound angry.

  “East side of the compound, ma’am,” the corporal reported sharply.

  “On our way,” Terry said, feeling spent, even though the engagement had not lasted long, maybe thirty minutes start to finish.

  “Has anyone seen Aaron and Yanmei?” Terry asked.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Ted smiled ear to ear. A Mini Cooper stood there within an old, rickety warehouse, on a newer trailer with a Japanese-made tractor hooked up to pull it.

  He climbed to the control panel and started mashing buttons and running diagnostics.

  “What are you doing?” Terry called.

  Ted ignored him, so Terry climbed the ladder and stood on the small catwalk next to Ted. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “How can we get this back to North Chicago?” Ted replied.

  “We only need to get it as far as San Francisco, Ted. You should see that place,” Terry told him.

  “I will have to see that place, but that doesn’t get it to North Chicago.”

  “It doesn’t, my friend, but there’s a great deal of work to do right here and I’d hate to see Gene fumbling around with it,” Terry said deftly, knowing exactly what to say to motivate Ted.

  “I suppose I could stay for a while, just to check on things…”

  Aaron and Yanmei showed up, briefly looked at the Mini Cooper, lost interest, and strolled out.

  ***

  Camilla found her way into the dining area, where a headless Forsaken’s dead body was shriveling. She continued to the command center where Timmons and Joseph were digging through computers a
nd other electronics, while Sue and Andrew watched.

  “It’s over,” Joseph said. “We won.”

  Camilla looked at him. “Doesn’t feel like it,” she said cryptically.

  Boris appeared. “We’re here to help,” he said, wondering why the corporal looked like someone had died. His eyes shot wide.

  “Who?” he asked, grabbing her arm.

  “Gene,” she replied softly.

  “Gene’s dead?” Boris cried in disbelief.

  “No,” she answered quickly, shaking her head. “Took a silver bullet in the back.”

  “They had silver bullets?” Boris wondered.

  “No,” she whispered.

  He understood. “Gene always gets into the line of fire,” Boris explained. “He’ll be okay. Go back to keep him company until they show up to carry him away. That won’t be the first time, either.”

  ***

  Char, Shonna, Timmons, and Marcie arrived at the tunnel mouth with the stretcher. “Grab on and let’s carry him out,” Char said, not looking forward to the task. Four warriors from Camilla’s squad squeezed inside to help. Two on each arm and two on each leg did their best to carry the large and very naked man out of the tunnel.

  They shuffled outside and laid him next to the stretcher. Char and Marcie rolled him onto it. He grimaced, but smiled when it was done.

  “Ride like royalty,” he said in his Russian accent.

  “Yes, you do, Gene. I don’t know how you manage it, but you’ve been carried away from more battles than the rest of us combined,” Char told her friend.

  Someone draped a rifle-cleaning towel over Gene’s exposed privates.

  “Breeze good for virility,” he explained to the warrior.

  “No, it’s not,” Char told him.

  Camilla reappeared from the tunnel. She turned to Char. “It goes all the way through to the command center. Boris, Timmons, and others are in there. All’s secure, ma’am. I’m sorry to report that this is my fault,” Camilla said, pointing to Gene.

  “Bullshit,” Char replied. “On three, people.”

  The four grabbed on, counted to three, and lifted. They headed up the cut on their way to the pod. Camilla rallied her squad. She assigned two privates to carry the body of their fallen comrade and together, they followed the stretcher out.

  ***

  “He got away, Akio-sama,” Terry told the device in his hand as he scowled at it.

  “Just this time, Terry-san, but the signals are gone. Mister Smith’s coordination with the other Forsaken is gone. No more wild goose chases, as you say. Today was a huge victory, Terry-san. I think we shall not hear from the Forsaken known as Mister Smith for a long time to come,” Akio replied.

  Terry looked at the sky as his people gathered around the pod.

  There would have to be multiple trips to San Francisco by both air and land as they moved the Mini Cooper into place on the wharf as a secondary power supply. Shonna and Timmons wanted to recover much of the electronics, some of which seemed based on Kurtherian technology. They refused to leave it behind.

  “Put a platoon here to secure the area and move equipment to the surface, a squad to escort the Mini Cooper, and two squads back to San Francisco. Lieutenant, the duty is yours.”

  Boris saluted and Terry returned it with a smile.

  “I just remembered,” Char said as she took Terry’s hand, and they walked away from the lieutenant. “I left my wine on the beach.”

  Terry smiled and with one hand, he brushed the silver lock of hair away from her face. “I know where we can get more.”

  EPILOGUE

  WWDE + 52 Years

  Japan

  It was the first time that Terry and Char had been to Akio’s compound, but it was a special occasion.

  Three people went into the pods and three special people emerged. Kim and Kae took to their enhancements like fish to water. Ramses fought it, which had added months to the process, but they were all in it together. Kim, Kae, and Cory insisted on being there when he emerged from the pod doc.

  And theirs were the first faces he saw when he came out. He smiled weakly and asked for pot roast with potatoes.

  His first day enhanced and he was going to be disappointed.

  The End of Nomad Mortis

  Terry Henry Walton will return in Nomad’s Force, July 2017

  Don’t stop now! Keep turning the pages as both Craig & Michael talk about their thoughts on this book and the overall project called the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles.

  Author Notes - Craig Martelle

  Written June 17, 2017

  Thank you for reading to this point. That is incredible – book 8 in the series and you’re still reading. You make this journey of ours worthwhile.

  Diane Velasquez and Dorene Johnson are the wizards behind the curtain! They’ve helped make sure that I am completely aligned with Bethany Anne’s universe. The notes make sure that I don’t run afoul of the main storyline and that it blends nicely into the future. The stolen pod, the Sacred Clan, Mr. Smith, the New Schwabenland, all come from Di & Do. Thank you so much for all the help and support.

  Camilla Peterson! I missed your birthday so you got a namesake in this book. I also wanted to give Camille Kersey a spot in one of these books for all her support over the years. The character Camilla is in honor of both of you. Camilla is in the group of new warriors that get trained as part of the war with the Forsaken. She stands proud and does the Force a good turn.

  This book was a total horse race. My initial target with these books is 60,000 words, that’s roughly 235 paperback pages. Some of this series run short of that, some right on, but then Nomad Unleashed (Book 3) was 87,000 words and Nomad Mortis (Book 8) came in at 82,000 words. The length isn’t as important as telling a complete story. I couldn’t get Nomad Mortis done in less than that while I could have easily gone 20,000 more words.

  I’ll have to pick up the slack with some Wednesday short stories through the summer. If you have a character(s) you want to see get some air time, drop me a line at craig@craigmartelle.com and I’ll see what I can do. I have the backstory of most of the characters in my head, but only so many words can exit my fingers. I just need to prioritize.

  If you make me choose, then I’m sure I’ll pick incorrectly, just like when my wife asks where I want to go for dinner. My first choice isn’t always our last choice.

  Nomad’s Force is next and this story will be about establishing a worldwide Force de Guerre. It’ll cover a fair bit of time because the action will be intermittent as the Forsaken go to ground. Finding them and rooting them out will take an extended campaign.

  And then Nomad’s Galaxy to wrap up the last of the 150 years between when Bethany went to space and the return of Michael to Earth. The Terry Henry Walton Chronicles was all about a side story of what one group of people were doing during that gap in time. It became a robust storyline in and of itself, which will take us to space.

  Our future plans are coming to fruition. The Force de Guerre is going to space, which will be the spin-off follow-on series, co-written with Michael Anderle within the Age of Expansion timeline of The Kurtherian Gambit universe.

  Series: The Force de Guerre

  Tagline: Exporting Justice to the Galaxy

  FDG01: Blockade

  FDG02: Dreadnought

  FDG03: Corsair

  FDG04: Raiders

  Once I finish Nomad’s Galaxy (THW Book 10), I need to get back to my Free Trader and knock out the final three stories of that series. I intend to write them very quickly, one right after the other to stay in the writing flow. They will be shorter so I don’t drone on about non-action things. Southern Discontent, The Great ‘Cat Rebellion, and Return to the Traveler will wrap up the series. My goal is to write all three of those and publish them one right after the other, about a week apart in September this year (2017).

  Then I’ll dive in wholeheartedly to the FDG Space Opera series.

  On the home front, the jungle that is
our yard during the Fairbanks summer has grown in rather robustly. I need to get out there with my weed destroying Craftsman and go to town. That kind of stuff is exhausting for me as I’ll run out of air two or three times, then get sick to my stomach, then get back to it at a snail’s pace. It sucks having compromised lungs, but thanks to you, all the great readers of this series, I’m in a position to hire someone to take care of the yard stuff. I just need to make that happen.

  A duck has nested in the woods behind our house. She’s about one hundred yards from the body of water and about five feet from our walking trail. I thought we might have a problem with Phyllis the Arctic Dog and ducklings, but the eggs have hatched and the nest was empty within a day. Mother duck and her babies have headed downhill toward the lake beside our forest.

  All is well in ducktown.

  My wife and I have been doing an Arbonne cleanse, which is a set diet that removes a bunch of food triggers to flush our systems of the garbage we’ve been putting in. It’s not vegetarian as protein is important, but the types of meats are – chicken, grass-fed beef, fish (salmon and halibut are what we are eating, but we live in Alaska so that is most readily available). In the first 21 days of the 28-day program, I lost over ten pounds and feel a lot better. My mind is clear, which is good for creative work.

  I will be happy as can be if I can hit my target weight of 185 by June 24. I only have 3 pounds to lose in the last week. I’ve been averaging a half pound of fat loss a day, so I am right on track. I think my optimal weight is around 180. But I love food. I just need to not eat the wrong food and life will be good.

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Written June 19th, 2017

  Thank you for not only reading this book, but staying all the way to the end and reading this, as well!

  At the moment, I’m resting in bed in Paris, France. I’ve been (mostly) in bed for the last couple of days, as I’m trying to get past some nastiness (started with allergies in Spain, I think.)