Thy Kingdom Come: Book One in the Sam Thorpe series Read Online Free Page B

waitresses served him free coffee and pie at Rhonda’s Café for lunch. Free beer at Jimmy’s after work, all the gang glad to see him.
    But now he was a security guard at the college. No more free beer. No more free pie. Everyone laughed at him behind his back.
    His wife didn’t care that he was unhappy. She spent three nights a week playing bridge at the old folk’s home and two nights a week playing bingo at the VFW. And what about old George? Yeah, good old George. No cushy job at Disney World. No skinny dipping with great-looking broads off the Florida coast.
    “Hello, George.”
    Case hadn’t even noticed Professor Thompson coming out of the door. “Ah, good evening, sir.”
    “It’s going to be a cold one. I had hoped that spring was on the way.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Be sure to check the back doors for me, will you, George? I think I locked them, but you’d better make sure.”
    “Yes, sir.” Case watched the hunched-over professor pick his way down the icy sidewalk. Maintenance had put salt on the walk, but it still was slippery. Poor old Thompson was pushing seventy.
Gonna fall on his ass one of these days.
    Case pulled the master key out of his pocket and entered the building. Maybe some cute student would want to get it on with him.
Yeah, right.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    S am Thorpe stood at the head of the conference table. This portion of the room, sectioned off from the rest of Oliver’s barn by a three-foot-high wall, appeared to be about eighteen by twenty feet.
    He rapped on the oak table with his knuckles. “All right, listen up. It’s time to get started.” The men sat in the wooden chairs around the table. From what he’d read in their bio sheets, most were farmers. Their ages ranged from mid-twenties up to early fifties. Many had uncombed hair and bushy beards, and wore wool shirts with jeans and boots.
    The electronic gear Oliver had installed was impressive: a rear screen projector, teleconferencing capability, and computers Sam understood were linked through a local area network. Four television monitors, at least twenty inches each, stood on a long table pushed up against the wall, all with DVD and video capability for training purposes.
    Four florescent lights set into the drop ceiling illuminated the room. Picture windows, with blackout privacy shades, occupied the two outside walls. In spite of all the high-priced technology, the building still had a musty odor of age and manure.
    He made eye contact with each of the men as he spoke. “My name is Colonel Thorpe. I’ll be with you for the next week or so. I just retired from the Army. Twenty-five years in the infantry. My job is to mold you into teams fully capable of carrying out any mission assigned by General Oliver. What I saw yesterday looked good.” He paused. “But I know we can do better, and that’s our goal.”
    The men watched him. A few looked around with a bored expression on their faces.
    Sam wondered why these guys had signed up for the Patriots. More importantly, he wondered, what made them keep coming back?
    Tapping his fingers on the wooden podium, he let his opening remarks sink in while he read the men’s expressions. Many leaned forward, interested in what he had to say. Two men, both with full beards, sat at the far end of the table and glared at Sam with a show-me expression. The bigger of the two had a smirk on his face as if he were challenging Sam.
    “We’ll begin with communications procedures, move on to map reading, and finally weapons qualification, before we form into teams. I’ll be looking for leaders. Show me what you can do.”
    Sam looked down at his notes. “I’d like each of you to introduce yourself. Give me a brief history of your military experience. If you’ve been in the service, what branch and what was your military occupational specialty?”
    Sam started on his left. A skinny, sandy-haired young man looked down, hands folded. He didn’t appear to be much over twenty. His hands