Doomsday Warrior 16 - American Overthrow by Ryder Stacy Read Free Book Online Page A

gathering on the situation. It’s of paramount importance. That’s my recommendation. Get better intelligence—but don’t take action until the recon team returns.”
    There was more raucous debate the moment he left the platform and Rockson watched it all. It lasted for another three hours and he had to down two more cups of coffee to make it through the haranguing. His mind was already elsewhere—on Kim, Langford’s daughter. They had been lovers once, and he could see her soft face, her twinkling eyes, smell her flesh as if it were yesterday He berated himself for dwelling on just her, when the fate of a whole city, perhaps many cities, was at stake. But so it went. In the heart the personal is always paramount over the concerns of the many.
    At last a vote was taken as the clock hit midnight. It was close. 51 to 49—for sending a team up there to see what the hell was happening. Recommendations were asked of Rath as to just what kind of team should be assembled.
    “I think we all know there’s only one man for a job as hazardous and important as this,” Rath said with a grim smile as his eyes rested on the man with bloodshot eyes sitting in the front row sipping coffee. “As much as I should probably toot the horn of my own staff’s abilities, I know this is as much of a potential combat mission as straight intel gathering. I recommend— Ted Rockson. I say he should assemble a team of his choosing and set out tomorrow for Pattonville, authorized to do what he can to alter this serious situation.”
    The council again voted, this one a lot quicker vote than the other. And the motion carried by a wide majority. Rock’s abilities were widely known. All eyes were on the Doomsday Warrior who wearily raised his half-empty cup of black coffee.
    “Salud,” he said in a half whisper. “Fucking salud.”

Six
    G eneral Hanover’s commando teams left Pattonville at two in the morning before the moon had completed its curve across the purple-tinged night sky. The two-hundred-man force was jittery, extremely nervous. It was only their second attack on one of the neighboring Free Cities; their target was Truman Town, some thirty miles to the east. The small rebel city of only eight thousand was known for their intricate baskets and pottery.
    It was a perfect test for their developing tactics of warfare under General Hanover, who had his own dark ideas about how to conduct war against his fellow man. But then, Hanover believed that what he was doing was right, even justified under the iron hand of God. And such men are the most dangerous, those who kill with the word “God” on their lips. For they know no bounds, and have no morality other than what they hear the dark angels whispering in their ears.
    “We’re behind schedule,” Lieutenant Trancer shouted to his men as they rode along on hybrid horses spread out on a dirt road behind him. He couldn’t afford any foul-ups on this one. His predecessor, Major Smoth, who had trained the commando forces, had screwed up the first actual combat operation—the takeover of Phillipsburg, a very small Free City some hundred miles to the north. General Hanover had chosen it because of its small size, only three thousand souls, and because it was isolated, without any radios or telecom equipment. The people of Phillipsburg believed in a primitive way of life. An easy target! But the good major had nearly managed to screw it up anyway, gassing a quarter of his own men, letting several dozen of the villagers escape before they were tracked down and eliminated so they couldn’t warn the rest of the Free Cities. And then, worst of all, he had somehow botched the operation completely, releasing large amounts of the wrong gas—and the entire village had been wiped out. Every man, woman, and child exterminated as if they never existed.
    Lieutenant Trancer checked his watch in the moonlight. They were back on schedule, thank God for that. The bungling major wasn’t seen again