Protocol Six: Chapter Twenty-Seven
“…Dad? It’s me…” “Jesus… honey, I feared the worst. I’d almost resorted to praying.” “Ah– ! God… Daddy, don’t make me laugh; it hurts…” “How
“…Dad? It’s me…” “Jesus… honey, I feared the worst. I’d almost resorted to praying.” “Ah– ! God… Daddy, don’t make me laugh; it hurts…” “How
“You were in the Army, weren’t you?”, the old lady smiled, pouring a cup of tea. Pike accepted it gratefully and inhaled. He had never
“Stover, tell me,” he said. “You do your job, right? I don’t mean to accuse; just asking. It’s a legit strategy.”
“Yeah? So?” the cop said, squinting.
“So. You ever run into a situation where someone didn’t want your job to get done? Maybe someone important?”
What looked like a pile of scrap on wheels, but apparently far from dead, ground on its abused rims to a gentle stop at the
“Anthony, has anyone tried hailing that thing yet?” “That was the first thing we tried,” Captain Nweke said. “No response yet; we may not have
“Hey! What’s this?” “Oh, hi!” May smiled, looking up from the row of samples on the table. “You’re up late.” Mariah shrugged. “Too hot to
The driver stuck to the alleyways as much as possible; it provided slightly better cover and minimized the risk to any bystanders. But ahead, a
In the deep twilight it wasn’t much more than a silhouette, but it was clearly military. McGee studied it through one lens of a set
Burke whistled his approval, looking around the opulent office. The constant struggle to survive might have ended once one found their way Inside, but this
Overhead, the old SuperCobra banked hard left, evading fire from the Apache’s minigun, and the Army pilot’s annoyance carried over the radio. “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot,