Stone Soldiers: Catching Fire Read Online Free Page A
Author: C. E. Martin
keep!"
Smith climbed from his tube and quickly packed up his own parachutes, then grabbed his duffel and headed over to meet the Colonel.
Kenslir already had all his gear on now- a six color desert camo combat vest, low-hanging thigh rigs on each leg, and a USAS-12 autoshotgun with underbarrel grenade launcher slung across his back.
"Get your gear on," he directed, watching the area around them. So far, only the desert wind showed any life in the open desert.
"I thought we were supposed to have transport?" Smith asked, opening his duffel. He quickly put on his own vest and gear. He carried an M-60E2 machine gun as his main weapon- one with solid steel grips the Colonel had hastily fabricated in a machine shop before they left the States.
"Damn zoomies," Kenslir growled. "Can't read a map to save their lives."
"Sir?" Smith asked, wondering if the Colonel was talking about their pilot in the MF-12.
"USAF patrol was supposed to put a Sandrail here," Kenslir said. "Their GPS probably went out and they got lost. Hold on a sec."
The Colonel quickly tapped into a satellite network with his TTV. Using a dedicated satellite reserved for their mission, he quickly located the ground vehicle.
"Two klicks," he said, pointing.
Kenslir then set off at a run, heading toward the distant military dune buggy. Smith fell into step behind him, running along at a pace he knew no normal flesh and blood soldier could manage.
After a good run, they finally reached the sandrail- an Army vehicle equipped with a grenade launcher and machineguns. Smith relaxed a little when he saw the car- he'd used one before. He slid in the front passenger seat as Kenslir got behind the wheel.
Their TTVs now displayed a distant beacon on the horizon- their destination.
"Why do we even need a buggy?" Smith asked.
"Because if we come running up on foot, someone's bound to get suspicious," Kenslir said. Then he punched the gas and they shot off across the sand.
***
When they reached their destination, the sun was just beginning to rise. The morning light revealed the thick ashes and wisps of smoke still rising from the ruins of what had been a remote checkpoint- something little more than a stop on the long highway connecting a remote Iraqi village to the rest of the country.
Colonel Kenslir was first out of the sandrail and carried his auto shotgun across his chest, ready for action. Smith followed a step behind him, his own M-60 slung across his back.
"Looks like whatever happened is long over," Smith said.
Kenslir frowned and pointed the barrel of his rifle at a nearby smoking pile of ashes. "Not too long, or there still wouldn't be smoke rising."
A large, billboard-sized box sprang to life in the air above the checkpoint- or at least the TTVs made it seem that way to both men. Dr. King's face appeared in the box.
"What have you discovered, Colonel?"
Kenslir walked around the checkpoint, kicking at the pile of ashes on one side of the road. "Everything's gone, Doctor. Everything."
Smith stood to the side, watching the augmented reality conversation. He still wasn't used to the full capabilities of the TTV, but could see where it was very useful in the field. He wondered why the SEAL teams didn't have them.
"Are there any remains?" Dr. King asked. "Anything we could analyze?"
"None," Kenslir said. He knelt by the road and with his left hand picked up a pile of ashes and let it sift through his fingers. "No etheric residue of any kind."
"Etheric?" Smith asked. "That's magic, right?"
Dr. King turned in the info box above, looking to Smith. "Actually, it's a form of energy used by both magic and psychokin-"
"Doc- over here," Kenslir interrupted. He was brushing the ash away from the pavement, revealing a dark object embedded in the asphalt.
"What is it?" King asked. He could be seen slipping on a TTV of his own. His image then shimmered and the huge display box flickered out, replaced by a 3D, translucent rendering of Dr. King that drifted
Smith climbed from his tube and quickly packed up his own parachutes, then grabbed his duffel and headed over to meet the Colonel.
Kenslir already had all his gear on now- a six color desert camo combat vest, low-hanging thigh rigs on each leg, and a USAS-12 autoshotgun with underbarrel grenade launcher slung across his back.
"Get your gear on," he directed, watching the area around them. So far, only the desert wind showed any life in the open desert.
"I thought we were supposed to have transport?" Smith asked, opening his duffel. He quickly put on his own vest and gear. He carried an M-60E2 machine gun as his main weapon- one with solid steel grips the Colonel had hastily fabricated in a machine shop before they left the States.
"Damn zoomies," Kenslir growled. "Can't read a map to save their lives."
"Sir?" Smith asked, wondering if the Colonel was talking about their pilot in the MF-12.
"USAF patrol was supposed to put a Sandrail here," Kenslir said. "Their GPS probably went out and they got lost. Hold on a sec."
The Colonel quickly tapped into a satellite network with his TTV. Using a dedicated satellite reserved for their mission, he quickly located the ground vehicle.
"Two klicks," he said, pointing.
Kenslir then set off at a run, heading toward the distant military dune buggy. Smith fell into step behind him, running along at a pace he knew no normal flesh and blood soldier could manage.
After a good run, they finally reached the sandrail- an Army vehicle equipped with a grenade launcher and machineguns. Smith relaxed a little when he saw the car- he'd used one before. He slid in the front passenger seat as Kenslir got behind the wheel.
Their TTVs now displayed a distant beacon on the horizon- their destination.
"Why do we even need a buggy?" Smith asked.
"Because if we come running up on foot, someone's bound to get suspicious," Kenslir said. Then he punched the gas and they shot off across the sand.
***
When they reached their destination, the sun was just beginning to rise. The morning light revealed the thick ashes and wisps of smoke still rising from the ruins of what had been a remote checkpoint- something little more than a stop on the long highway connecting a remote Iraqi village to the rest of the country.
Colonel Kenslir was first out of the sandrail and carried his auto shotgun across his chest, ready for action. Smith followed a step behind him, his own M-60 slung across his back.
"Looks like whatever happened is long over," Smith said.
Kenslir frowned and pointed the barrel of his rifle at a nearby smoking pile of ashes. "Not too long, or there still wouldn't be smoke rising."
A large, billboard-sized box sprang to life in the air above the checkpoint- or at least the TTVs made it seem that way to both men. Dr. King's face appeared in the box.
"What have you discovered, Colonel?"
Kenslir walked around the checkpoint, kicking at the pile of ashes on one side of the road. "Everything's gone, Doctor. Everything."
Smith stood to the side, watching the augmented reality conversation. He still wasn't used to the full capabilities of the TTV, but could see where it was very useful in the field. He wondered why the SEAL teams didn't have them.
"Are there any remains?" Dr. King asked. "Anything we could analyze?"
"None," Kenslir said. He knelt by the road and with his left hand picked up a pile of ashes and let it sift through his fingers. "No etheric residue of any kind."
"Etheric?" Smith asked. "That's magic, right?"
Dr. King turned in the info box above, looking to Smith. "Actually, it's a form of energy used by both magic and psychokin-"
"Doc- over here," Kenslir interrupted. He was brushing the ash away from the pavement, revealing a dark object embedded in the asphalt.
"What is it?" King asked. He could be seen slipping on a TTV of his own. His image then shimmered and the huge display box flickered out, replaced by a 3D, translucent rendering of Dr. King that drifted
Readers choose
Danielle Lewis
Amy Bronee
Nick Lake
Mary Janice Davidson, Susanna Carr, Leslie Esdaile
Jennifer Weiner
John Hart
Frank W Abagnale
Malorie Blackman
Michele G Miller, Samantha Eaton-Roberts
Cheryl Bolen