Apocalypse Crucible by Mel Odom Read Free Book Online

targets jerked back under the drumming impacts—knocked two marines from the rooftop of the building across the street. Two stories below, both men smashed against the pavement. Neither man moved. If the armor-piercing bullets hadn’t killed them outright, the fall finished them off.
    A trio of U.N. soldiers, distinctive in the bright blue helmets they wore, broke cover and raced out into the street. They dragged the marines back, securing holds on their load-carrying harnesses. Before they made the distance, the makeshift barricade that choked the street two blocks away and rendered it impassable to vehicles suddenly erupted. A huge rush of flames blew cars and tractors into the air while others skidded forward.
    The ground shook beneath Danielle’s feet. Fear spun a ball of bile into the back of her throat as she heard the metallic screeches of the barricade sliding across the broken and pitted pavement. She dodged to the building’s side, flattening herself against the wall as a Volkswagen minivan wreathed in flames shuddered past her.
    “Are you getting that?” Danielle yelled, turning toward Cezar. She didn’t know if she could be heard over the cacophony.
    If Cezar heard Danielle, he didn’t respond. He knelt, camera to shoulder, and panned with the burning hulk of the Volkswagen as it roared past. A slipstream of embers and flaming pieces skipped after the vehicle. When the chips were down and the action was at its most intense, Cezar was the camera’s eye.
    The rescue effort by the U.N. soldiers suddenly turned into tragedy, the mass of flying debris catching and scattering them like tenpins. Fire clung to the clothing of two of them, but neither moved, and Danielle felt quite certain that neither would move again.
    “Medic!” one man shouted into the headset he wore. “ Medic! ”
    “Have we got satellite access?” Danielle asked over her satphone.
    “Of course,” Stolojan answered. “We are prepared to go live as soon as you begin broadcasting. I’ve already cleared you. Negotiations are underway even as we speak to run your piece on CNN and FOX News with a two-minute delay.”
    The delay was supposed to inspire dedicated news watchers to switch over to the cable stations that carried OneWorld NewsNet as an alternative to local or national news. The violence in Turkey coupled with the disappearances that had taken place almost immediately afterward had guaranteed OneWorld a large share of the worldwide viewing public.
    Nicolae Carpathia was—until a few days ago—a successful Romanian businessman worth millions. He owned OneWorld NewsNet. The day the war had broken out along the Turkish-Syrian border, the Romanian president in power at the time had stepped down from office and named Carpathia as his successor. In addition to running several corporations, the young Romanian power broker was now running a country.
    And he is scheduled to speak to the United Nations, Danielle reminded herself. She’d wanted to cover that meeting, knowing that—given the current situation—the talks would garner global interest, but the story of the men attempting to hold Sanliurfa against such untenable odds was impossible for her to resist. She’d stuck it out in the battle zone instead of breaking off to go to New York.
    A Humvee marked with the Red Cross insignia roared down the street. The front bumper grazed the still-burning hulk of the Volkswagen, spinning the vehicle around a little as it passed.
    The Humvee’s driver braked in front of the downed soldiers, providing a protective barrier between them and the open end of the street. Before the rescue vehicle rocked to a complete stop, four field medics leaped into action, breaking out gurneys and medkits. They shouted at each other, sorting out the quick and the dead. Another artillery round, probably from a tank, slammed into the barricade and threw more debris back over the street.
    Danielle tapped Cezar’s shoulder to get his attention.
    The cameraman