Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike by Doug Dandridge Read Free Book Online Page A

kilometers per hour,
faster than the best unaugmented athlete.   We’re going to do this.
    A particle beam speared out, hitting Sergeant
Pasco dead center, while another flew past Cornelius and struck someone further
back.
    “Open fire,” yelled the Lieutenant, firing his
particle beam from the hip.  “Give them hell.”  At the end of the last word he
went into a warbling call he had heard in a movie, something called a rebel
yell.
    Everyone with him fired as fast as they could,
sending particle beams and grenades down the hall.  Hypersonic rounds cracked
by Cornelius’ head, making him flinch a bit, forcing him to run straight so the
firing lanes would stay open.
    Another flare of particle beam fire came down
the hall, cutting down two of the Secret Service Agents.  That was the last
fire the enemy got off as they were overwhelmed by a charge from another era of
warfare, that only worked because of its shock value.
    Cornelius hurdled the last of the Cacas who had
deployed before the room.  As he sailed over their bodies, he became the focus
of a half dozen aliens in a fair sized storage room.  They were standing around
a large mechanism that could only be a bomb, and three of them were turning his
direction with rifles coming to shoulders.
    “Die, you fucking assholes,” yelled Cornelius
at the top of his lungs as he swung his particle beam into one of the aliens,
exulting in the kill as the proton stream ate a hole through its faceplate.  He
was sure it would be his last kill, as two more weapons were tracking his way,
and even with his advanced reflexes, he couldn’t take out both of them before a
proton beam tore through him.
    Angry red lines swung by, and it took him a
moment to realize that they weren’t coming from the enemy weapons, but were
actually hitting the Cacas, who fell backwards as multiple beams tore through
both of them.
    Cornelius landed lightly on his feet, breathing
hard, still not sure that he was alive.  The other people streamed into the
room and fanned out, making sure the space was clear of Cacas, then securing
every entrance in.
    “Good job, Lieutenant,” said a wide eyed Agent
Chung, walking up and patting Cornelius on the back.  “And just let me say, you
are one crazy son of a bitch.  I’m glad you’re on our side.”
    Cornelius nodded his head, still trying to
catch his breath, the fear from what he had done finally catching up with him. 
His arms were shaking, and he felt like his legs were going to give out under
him any moment.
    “I’d follow you into hell any day, sir,” said
PO Satrusalya, walking up, a smile of relief on his own face.
    “You just did,” said Cornelius, swaying a
moment.
    The Petty Officer was at his side in a moment,
giving him a supporting shoulder and a look of understanding.
    “Is he going to be alright?” asked Chung.
    “He’s going to be fine,” said the Commando. 
“Just a bit of adrenaline rebound.”
    Cornelius took a couple of clearing breaths and
straightened up, looking at the weapon.
    “So, sir,” said Satrusalya, following the
officer’s gaze.  “What are we going to do about that thing.”
    “I don’t have a clue,” said Walborski with a
grimace.  “Unless someone can come up with an idea, I guess we get to see what
the center of a hundred gig explosions looks like.”

Chapter
Two
     
    Once we have a war
there is only one thing to do. It must be won. For defeat brings worse things
than any that can ever happen in war.
    Ernest Hemingway
     
    CONGREEVE SPACE. 
NOVEMBER 21, 1001.
     
    “We’ve received word from the Donut ,
your Majesty,” came the voice of Rear Admiral Kelso, the Emperor’s Flag
Captain.    “They’ve disarmed two of the devices the Cacas have brought
aboard.   The other two….”
    “Thank you, Admiral,” said Sean Ogden Lee
Romanov, Sean the First, Emperor of the New Terran Empire.  And those other
two could still possibly destroy the station, and our hopes of winning