The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) by Jordan Ervin Read Free Book Online Page A

dark hair and a thin layer of stubble lining his jaw. The man glanced up from a cracked see-through tablet that was propped against his leg to nod before looking back down, swiping about the glass surface with one hand as he moved another through the air beside him. “He was Israeli Special Forces and is about the most brilliant communications and weapons research specialist alive. My friend William Bond managed to get us the information we needed to find the weakness in the drones the Patriarchs had been creating. Lev took that information and created the technology we’d need to fight back.”
    “Captain Bond…is he dead?” Adam asked.
    “It’ll take more than a war to kill Bond,” Gene replied as he motioned over to one of the darkened mounds on the floor. “I’m not sure that man would die for anyone but the devil himself. He took quite a pounding getting you and your friend Tanker out of DC, but he’ll live.”
    “And Max?”
    Gene nodded again and pointed to the other mound. “Best we can tell, he cracked at least three ribs and completely shattered his right forearm in the crash. But he’s a tough son of a bitch. He’ll live, though I reckon he might need to learn how to tie his shoes with one hand.”
    “At least they’re alive,” Adam said. “David’s dead.”
    “As is everyone else who didn’t bend to Lukas or get the hell out of there.”
    The door opened at the top of the stairs, causing Adam to tense and Gene to raise his gun. However, as a sandy blonde-haired man descended the steps, Gene let out a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon.
    “Perimeter is quiet,” the man said with a heavy French accent. “I have Lev’s motion sensors deployed and a few of your Stonewalls activated at three points. Impressive tech, I must say.”
    “Did you find another car?” Gene asked.
    “Oui,” the man replied. “An old truck—rusty and blue, just like your country tunes.”
    “I assume this is the Frenchman you were talking about?”
    “Forgive me, monsieur,” the man said as he bowed his head slightly. “I am Marc L’ecuyer. It is pronounced le-qwee-yay. Take care you remember that.”
    “And why is that?” Adam asked.
    “Because the last time a world war broke out, it was America and her allies, led by men named Roosevelt and Churchill, who saved France. This time, it will be General Gene Smith, the Sons of Liberty, and men such as Marc L’ecuyer who raise your country from the ashes. Perhaps the historians will remember the famous Adam Reinhart as well.”
    “World war?” Adam muttered.
    “You don’t think America could collapse without the whole world feeling that fall, do you?” Gene said, shaking his head. “We don’t know much of anything about what’s going on elsewhere, but make no mistake, this is a war that will more than touch every continent.”
    “And you’re a general now?” Adam asked as he turned back to Gene. “General of the Sons of Liberty?”
    “Hell,” Gene began, brushing his fingers through his gray hair. “Seems if you’re the one organizing a rebellion, everyone wants your face plastered on the damn thing. As you can tell, Marc here is about as French as a baguette. I met him, Lev, and a handful of other foreign warriors years ago at a NATO conference. I’ll have you know we had quite a few non-nationals fighting for DC.”
    “Where are the others?”
    “Dead, dying, or hunkering down somewhere outside of DC,” Gene replied.
    “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered, pausing as he forced the lump back down his throat.
    “Do not fret yet, monsieur,” Marc said, a small smile touching his lips. “The fight is not over yet. You may have saved our pretty little French butts ninety years ago, but we knew how to fight from the shadows of Paris when the Germans took over. I have no doubts in our abilities to conduct ourselves in a similar fashion until more allies arrive.”
    “Yeah, that may be true,” Gene cut in, “but we sure kicked this war off