Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“What if I reduce their numbers?”
“How?”
He turned back to the small parking lot where the Yukon waited. The rear hatch rose at his touch. He keyed the combination into the reinforced locker in the back. The top popped up half an inch. He grasped the panel, pulled it toward him until it slid free, set it aside, and retrieved a portable rocket launcher.
Diana looked at the collection of firearms, grenades, and ammo boxes inside the locker. Her mouth hung open.
For some reason, he felt ridiculously pleased with himself.
She turned and pointed at the contents of the locker.
He hid a grin and shrugged.
“Were you planning on taking over a small country?”
“I anticipated complications.”
The shock in her eyes was so satisfying. He almost told her that MII had at least three of these vehicles, same loadout, same armor and run-flat tires, in every satellite office. Dallas, San Antonio, Austin, OKC, Amarillo, Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta… This one had come from Austin. Magic, no magic, Minor or Prime, bullets didn’t care.
Instead, he kept his expression casual. “Would you like to pick something out? I can recommend a suitable firearm…”
She reached into the cargo area and pulled out a tactical short sword. She hefted the broad black blade and spun it in her hand like it weighed nothing.
Augustine smiled. She grinned back, and it was all teeth.
[ 7 ]
The PGM-210, nicknamed the Lance, was a step-up from the FGM-148 Javelin. The pinnacle of portable “fire-and-forget” anti-tank weaponry, it spat out guided Archangel missiles—tandem-charge warheads with official ranges of two point eight kilometers. In practice, a skilled user could take out targets up to four kilometers away.
It was only eight hundred meters between them and the target below. Augustine planted himself, sitting cross-legged in the dirt, the Lance resting on his shoulder.
“3…2...1…”
Diana had asked him to give her a count. The wolves didn’t react well to sudden loud noises.
“Fire.”
He squeezed the trigger.
The Lance spat the warhead with a crack. The small missile rocketed toward the compound, its fire trail lighting up the night. The little artificial star fell in the middle of the construct huddle and exploded.
BOOM!
A plume of dark smoke erupted.
The tops of the towers split, and twin turrets rose up, turning.
“Fire.”
He squeezed the trigger. The left turret vanished in an explosion of fire and smoke.
“Fire.”
The right turret disintegrated.
He set the Lance to the side and rolled to his feet, sweeping it back up. Sliding it into the locker and jumping into the Yukon’s passenger seat took barely a second. Diana took off, the Yukon speeding down the mountain road, its lights off.
Behind them, a high-voltage searchlight swept the hillside. Woodward’s automated systems searching for them.
Diana took a turn at hair-raising speed. He was almost sure the SUV’s tires left the ground. The road was pitch-black. He couldn’t see shit. Augustine gripped the handle on the door.
The SUV rolled over something.
“Lights,” he squeezed out.
“No need. Trust me.”
The Yukon went airborne and landed with a clang. He saw Woodward’s estate looming in front of them, the two mangled turrets smoking on top of the towers.
Diana stood on the gas. The Yukon surged forward like a runaway battering ram.
The metal gate flashed before them. He didn’t even have a chance to brace for impact.
The SUV plowed into the gate. Metal screeched, and then they were through, speeding down the driveway.
A massive shape charged at them through the trees—a triceratops construct, illuminated by eerie blue magic from within.
Ahead, stainless-steel pillars emerged from the pavement, rising. Defensive bollards blocking access to the house.
Diana threw the wheel to the left.
The car turned, sliding into a skid. For a terrifying moment, they hurtled sideways, straight at the bollard barrier, so fast that his life had no chance to flash before his eyes.
The SUV screeched to a halt two feet from the pillars.
Diana shoved her door open. He jumped out from his side, carrying a duffel in his left hand and a cluster of Helios flash bombs in his right. They ran between the bollards and dashed to the front door. Behind them a tortured metal groan announced a construct smashing into the Yukon.
Augustine spun around. The pack of velociraptors was charging toward them at full speed, four of them, the magic powering them blazing brighter. Behind them, the mangled T-Rex struggled forward, dragging itself across the ground as pieces of its body slowly floated back toward it.
Augustine pulled the pins from the flash bombs, hurled them at the SUV, and sprinted to the door. Diana flew ahead of him.
The night turned white, illuminating the stairs, the double doors, and the armored shutters descending over the windows. The Helios explosions would burn for three seconds, their intense bursts of light designed to damage retinas and image sensors.
One. He snapped his magic like a whip, anchoring it to the two lupine shapes running back, toward the mangled front gate turning the wolves into Diana and his doppelgangers.