Freedom Forged

by Alan Austin

  Freedom Forged

  by

  Alan Austin

  This is a work of fiction and all characters and events are the creation of the author’s imagination. Any similarity in character name or description is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Alan Austin

  All rights reserved.

  Thank you for your interest in the Iron, Lead, and Lace trilogy. Please be sure to leave a review of this book on Amazon and check out Alan Austin’s Amazon Author page more of his erotic fiction titles. Austin is a prolific writer releasing new works every week. Follow him on Facebook for updates and opportunities to receive advanced or free copies of his work.

  www.facebook.com/AlanAustinAuthor

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  Waiting for Twilight

  “You’re bluffing,” Boomer said, glaring across the table.

  Sam laughed. “If you’re so sure, put your money where your mouth is.”

  Sam wasn’t bluffing, and the pot was already up to five hundred. If he could goad Boomer into going all in, he’d walk away with a clean thousand.

  “You’re a bad liar,” Boomer said, unable to hide the grin that crept up the corner of his mouth. “All in!”

  He pushed all his money to the center and waited for Sam to toss his cards. Instead, Sam smiled and matched Boomer’s bet saying, “Call!” He flipped his cards face up and laid them across the table, watching Boomer’s face as he realized that he’d made a critical error.

  “Straight,” Ticks announced, from his place between them at the table.

  “I can see that!” Boomer barked, slamming his cards down. “You son-of-a-bitch!” he shouted at Sam.

  Sam just laughed and pulled all the money toward himself to sort it out. Boomer would get over it. They were about to walk away with a hell of a lot more than the few hundred he’d just lost at the table.

  “Thirty minutes left,” Ticks shouted to everyone sitting around in the long, open space of the cabin.

  John ‘Ticks’ Parker always had his eye on his watch. Even now, he seemed to watch the time a moment longer before allowing himself to close the small, brass pocket watch. He tapped it three times with his index finger before dropping it into his pocket, leaving its long chain hanging down near his knees. No man had as many idiosyncrasies as Ticks. Even Boomer had shifted his attention from the money he’d lost and was just shaking his head at the smaller man who was tapping the seconds away on his leg while walking away from the table.

  Sam tucked all the money that he’d won into his bag and carried it back toward the beds at the rear of the long cabin. He tossed it into the cubby above his bed and shut the door to keep it from falling out. The ship had a tendency to rock from side to side, and the last thing he needed was his bag, with all his money, flying out an open door.

  Many would think him a fool to leave his valuables in such an accessible place among a group of thieves, but no one in this room would ever steal from him or any of the others. There wasn’t a man alive that Sam would ever trust as much as any member of his gang. After all that they’d been through together, they were a family now. They gave each other shit like they were siblings, but they loved one another just as fiercely. In all their time together, only one person had ever turned their back on the gang.

  “You ready, brother?” Ben asked him, checking his gear and putting his personal sack above his bed too.

  “Always ready – you know that!” Sam replied with a big smile.

  “I know that you think we believe that, but I know you better,” Ben replied with a sideways glance.

  Benjamin ‘Hawkeye’ Rosecrans was Sam’s older brother. He’d fought in the war for three years before Sam entered the forces. When Sam was finally old enough, he joined Ben during the final year of war before the colonies admitted yet another defeat. The two men had been close growing up, and Sam had dreamed of fighting for their freedom together, so it seemed like a dream come true when he was added to his brother’s company. His joy was short lived, however, when he discovered that the war was worse than any hell he’d ever imagined. The Empire’s foothold was too strong and her superior tech too advanced for the Americans to stand a chance.

  The colonists thought they might have hope thanks to some developments in their own technology since the last war, but the Empire’s engineers had churned out advancements faster than anyone believed possible, and their ability to deliver large tech and vast payloads of resources to the shores of the Americas was unprecedented. In truth, the American forces should have surrendered as soon as the first tanks and bombers arrived on the coast, but the generals refused to admit another defeat so quickly. They tried to adapt to the new technology, but they were fighting from a losing position the entire time.

  Sam saw the truth of their position right away and convinced his brother to desert with him after only a few months. Ben was resistant at first. Some of Ben’s hesitation understandably stemmed from the fact that deserting meant that they would be wanted men, but Sam preferred being wanted to being dead. Sam believed that the rest of Ben’s hesitation had more to do with following the lead of his younger sibling. Both men were born leaders, but Ben had been accustomed to being in the authority position their whole lives. This new adventure was Sam’s idea, and Ben could see from the start that Sam wasn’t going to follow anyone once he stepped into his life as an outlaw.

  It was just the two of them at first, but that was enough for Sam to start taking advantage of their already wanted status. He put his crafty mind to work and soon had a plan of action to get their new lives started.

  Sam came to realize that the Empire was beyond consistent in their setup for battle. They always settled their forces in a nearby town and staged from there before moving their forces out into the prospective battlefield. When the time for battle came, only a small force was left to guard the town, and they were never adequately manned to watch over everything effectively. With a sufficient distraction or a safe enough approach to remain unseen, Sam realized that he and Ben would be able to steal supplies from the camps to get by.

  One day, while pilfering a camp just outside of Jackson, Ben spotted a former brother in arms locked away in a jail cell. The two men broke him out and Ticks had been with them ever since. They weren’t just two brothers anymore; they were a gang which continued to grow quickly. With their increase in numbers came an even greater confidence in Sam. He wanted more than just the supplies to resell in towns for enough to live on. He wanted to make his life something grand.

  As they sat around a campfire one evening, Sam brought up his new plan. He wanted to rob a bank that he believed would be flush with money bound for Britain. Ben wouldn’t even entertain the thought at first. John had been more interested and after Sam and John worked out the details, Ben came around. If Ticks could be convinced, the plan had to be worth at least considering. Not even Sam had realized just how successful the job would be.

  The plan had been to pull of the big job and then retire somewhere, but instead, it had only been the beginning. In a matter of months, their three-man crew turned into the Rosecrans gang, notorious among the British and wanted by both sides of the conflict. They found solace in the towns in which they chose to share the fruits of their labor. It was among those towns that they�
�d evolved from horseback bandits to technologically advanced outlaws capable of causing more trouble for the British than many of the American outfits had during the war.

  Five years after their humble beginnings, here they were. The Rosecrans gang was about to pull something off that many considered impossible. This wasn’t an in-and-out robbery. It was a complex, carefully planned, custom engineered operation that had the potential to make them some of the richest men in the far-western world.

  “Don’t forget,” came the voice of DaVinci from behind Sam, “You need to save at least seventy percent of the charge for the return trip. Any less than that and you’ll never make it back.”

  Ulysses ‘DaVinci’ Anderson was the gang’s engineer. He was the only reason this operation was even possible. The man wasn’t good with a gun, and was even worse behind the wheel of his own inventions, but he was able to build more with scraps than most men could with their pick of materials. DaVinci had built every single vehicle the gang owned, including the ship they were aboard at that very moment. To him, the machines were like children. He checked and rechecked them, polishing scuffs as he moved. Nothing brought the man more joy in life than watching his masterpieces come to life, and he was about to get quite the show if everything went to plan.

  As good as Davinci was, the lone fear that remained in Sam’s mind was the success of the divers that they were going to use in only a matter of moments. They’d only tested two of them one time, and while the tests were successful, they had been in MUCH more controlled situations than they were facing today. Sam kept a confident smile on his face for the others, but he really, REALLY didn’t want to drown today.

  “All of that only matters if you push off within the allotted time,” added Ticks nervously. “No more than fifteen minutes. If you’re past that, you might as well stay on board and face whatever’s waiting back in Britain.”

  ‘Thanks for that!’ Sam thought to himself. ‘Just what I needed – more to worry about!’

  “We know,” Sam groaned. “Intercept without using too much of the energy or we die. Get off in time or we die. It will all work out. It always does.”

  “Really?” Ben asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Shut up!” Sam barked.

  Ticks pulled his watch from his pocket again and opened the cover.

  “So help me Ticks,” Sam started to shout, “if you give me another countdown before it’s time to get in the divers, that watch will find a new home at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

  Sam’s message was fully received and Ticks grumbled something as he closed the cover with his familiar three taps and slipped the watch back into his pocket. The others all chuckled, clearly as annoyed by the obsessive behavior as Sam.

  “Any final questions?” Sam asked as he walked back toward the center of the room.

  The others all shook their heads. They were ready. Everything had been covered. Sam pulled his revolver from its holster and checked it one last time before holstering it and buttoning his leather jacket. All the others were grabbing the last of their equipment and Ticks was just holding his watch, itching to give another update.

  “Alright!” he shouted, somewhat gleefully. “It’s time! Sixty seconds to launch.”

  DaVinci ran back toward the front of the ship and pulled the lever by the cockpit door. Gears along the upper walls on either side of the cabin lurched to life and six doors opened out toward the divers, acting as the walkways to each vehicle.

  Red light from the setting sun changed the atmosphere in the cabin and the sound of the wind buffeting over the open doors was deafening. Sam pulled his goggles over his eyes before stepping out, holding the guidewire along the open door to prevent himself from falling off as he boarded his personal diver. As soon as he sat down, he pushed the lever and the overhead glass canopy jerked forward where he snapped it closed.

  It had taken a full day to get far enough from the coast to intercept the hydro-train at the right time. The divers wouldn’t be seen regardless, but both their mothership and carrier drop ship would most certainly have been spotted in the broad daylight. The darker it was, the better chance of not being seen, but the harder it would be for them to spot the train with their divers. It had to be twilight.

  Enclosed in the small cockpit of his craft, the outside noise was reduced to a mild hum. Sam pulled the stick in front of him and watched the mechanisms on either side of him move just as Davinci had told him they should. He had no clue how any of the mechanics worked, but he knew that he could not control the craft if that stick failed. He ran his hand over the release mechanism for the charge and checked to make sure all the pins were still up showing a full charge.

  He looked at the clock and knew that it could happen at any time now. Davinci was watching for the train and would release them as soon as the timing was right. Timing was everything! Too early and they’d be seen. Too late and they’d miss their chance and be forced to return empty handed, forced to make the day long trip home and spend another week setting up another attempt.

  Sam was following Mac down as soon as he was launched, and everyone else would be behind him with the exception of Grease. She’d actually be launched first to give her the time she needed to make the trip in her specialized drop ship that she called ‘the carrier’.

  The whole ship rattled, telling Sam that Grease’s ship had been released. He looked around, but the only other ship he could see was Mac’s right in front of him. A minute after the initial launch, he felt another vibration and saw Mac’s ship disappear suddenly, dropping out of sight so quickly that it looked like he’d simply vanished. Another few seconds passed as Sam braced himself, wondering what such a quick drop was going to feel like. A loud clunk along with an even more violent vibration were all the warning he had before gravity was turned off and he felt his stomach hit the canopy when his diver dropped and rolled forward, pointing itself down. He could see Mac’s ship in front of him for a moment before it dropped into the thin layer of clouds that had been beneath them.

  Chapter 2

  Freefalling

  The white mist vanished in an instant and Mac’s ship came back into view. Sam reached for the small lever to his left. ‘Left first, then right,’ he reminded himself for comfort before pulling the lever back. Gears churned on either side of him and small fins ratcheted out from his long torpedo shaped diver. The stick started to shake and he took it in both hands and pulled hard. The ship responded as small flaps opened behind him, angling the diver’s decent toward the incoming train that he could now see in the distance.

  Sam had seen the trains on the coast before, but to see this one at full power, crossing the ocean on its massive hydrofoils as steam poured out between the lower hull and the water… it was a sight far grander than he’d ever imagined. Calling this monstrosity a train hardly seemed accurate at all, but it had the same multicar linkage of any other train, despite its lack of tracks. The massive hull was shaped like an upside-down U, only entering the water on either side even at the slowest of speeds. Out in the open water, only the tips of each pontoon line appendage dipped into the ocean. Large hydrofoils lifted the beastly vessel above the water and waves, allowing it to cut a smoother line through the water.

  The sight was astounding, and Sam was lost in its magnificence when he saw Mac’s diver transform in front of him. He quickly reached for the lever on the right and pulled hard. Another churning of gears, this time much faster under the added pressure, caused the diver’s large wings to extend like an accordion on either side of the small craft. The ship jerked forward and rocked back as if Sam had somehow hit denser air when the wings extended, but he maintained control and pointed his nose back down to follow Mac. He was now able to control the craft with much more precision.

  Mac pulled up, leveling out and turning wide of the oncoming target. They were still well above the train, high enough not to be seen by anyone in the engine. There were no guards on the top of the train anymore. This far out to s
ea, they believed there was no risk. If they only knew how wrong they were.

  Mac rolled his diver to the side and turned hard while dropping steeply again. Sam did the same and as he came around, he could see the other divers following him just as he was following Mac. It was a beautiful sight.

  The train was now beginning to pass them and Mac put the nose of his diver down to pick up speed. Sam watched as Mac roared along the top of the train and then extended some flaps to slow just as he set down gently on the third car. It was Sam’s turn now.

  Next to docking back to the airship, this was the hardest part of the mission. He needed enough speed to keep up with the train, but when he slowed, if he let the train gain any momentum on him, he couldn’t land. His propellers were charged, but the more of that he used, the more dangerous his return trip would be.

  Sam nosed down and felt the craft pick up an incredible burst of speed. When he pulled back up, he was racing along the top of the train toward Mac’s diver in front of him. He pushed his foot down to extend the flaps in order to slow, but he pushed too hard, and the ship lurched and was soon falling back, still at least five feet above the train. He’d overdone it. He grabbed the handle on the dash in front of him next to the charge indicator pins and pulled gently. A zipping sound behind him whirred up quickly and he was pressed back into his seat as his diver started to outpace the train again. He watched as one pin dropped, and then another, and another. After six pins had dropped, he felt like he had enough speed and released the handle. He heard a loud clang and felt some vibration in the ship, but his speed was still good. As he neared the car directly behind Mac’s, he began to slow and he was afraid he’d stopped short of enough speed, but he floated right into position and set his diver down gently, hardly feeling the landing at all. The magnets on the gear held tight and he was in position.

  Timing was everything now. They’d accounted for landing issues so their fifteen-minute timer hadn’t started yet, but Sam was in no mood to wait. He popped his canopy open and let the sound of rushing air fill his ears once again. He could see Ticks lining up for his landing behind him, and the man, always good with timing, seemed to make short work of it, setting down gently on his first attempt. Before anyone else could follow, Sam was already making his way down the ladder on the left side of his car.