Standing Before Hell's Gate
Page 43
“To paraphrase the unwashed masses,” Rosos said without turning around, “you done good, Tom. Our money was well spent. Father tends not to prefer such modernistic surroundings for his workspace, but I do. I am well pleased.”
It took a truly shocking occurrence to leave Tom Steeple gaping in disbelief, but that was his reaction to Rosos’ statement. Pointing his finger despite the younger man still not having turned around, his angry response to Rosos’ arrogance died on his lips and he looked toward the door at a rap on the frame. Amunet Mwangi stepped into the room and shut the door. By the look on her face, he knew something momentous had happened. “What is it, Amy?”
Grim-faced, she laid a message on his desk from the radio room. Then a smile put a deep crease into her cheeks. Rosos had finally half-turned at her entrance and she smiled at him, too. “They got him. We might one day find what’s left of him. Maybe.”
“General Angriff is dead?”
“Burnt to a crisp at the bottom of some ravine. I took the liberty to ice some vodka.”
“Why are you so happy? This is not good news. Angriff inspired loyalty, and now all of those people are going to think that we killed him on purpose and burned the body to cover it up. Having him alive would have allowed us to control the narrative.”
“I didn’t think of that, Tom.”
“Which is why I am sitting in this chair.” He leaned back. “Things are never as clear cut as they seem. Thank God for our new allies.”
She giggled. That brought a scowl. The one thing that angered Tom Steeple enough to break his façade of calm was being ridiculed. He even had a rarely used, teeth clenched tone of voice for such moments and used it now.
“Care to share what is so funny?”
Mwangi knew him better than most, however. Instead of being intimidated, her laugh softened into a gentle smile. “Don’t be angry, Tom. Think about the irony of what you said. You thanked God for sending us allies who officially and by government policy don’t believe in Him.”
At that he smiled; it was why he valued her so much. She sometimes saw things that he missed, such as ironic situations. And Steeple loved irony. “You are right, Amy, that is funny. And do they not say that He works in mysterious ways?”
“That’s what I learned in Sunday school.”
“And me as well. And now I know exactly how to break the news to the Seventh Cavalry. How does this sound… most of us thought of General Nicholas T. Angriff as a superhero, and superheroes are not supposed to die. We may not understand God’s plan, but we must all have faith that He is in control.”
“Are you really going to say that?”
“Is there something wrong with it?”
“Only that your cynicism knows no bounds.”
“How do you know I do not actually believe that?”
For a short moment she cocked her head, trying to decide if he was serious. He stared back at her with his best I’m-being-totally-honest expression. But he could only hold it so long before they both started laughing.
Rosos joined in. “My father will be very proud.”
#
Epilogue
EP1
1837 hours
Inside the ravine, the western side had slipped into deep shadow as the sunlight fell in the west. Two flitters sped by the cave mouth. One slowed, looking inside, and the rider pointed his M-16 into the yawning black mouth. Randall leaned against the wall, deep enough in the cave to be swallowed in the darkness. He gulped down the moldy tasting air and stifled the urge to wipe away sweat with his shirt sleeve.
“If he opens up,” Carlos whispered into his left ear, “we’re meat.”
“Ssshhh!”
The hoverboard slipped and slid in mid-air as the rider tried to control it. Craning his neck to see inside for at least ten seconds, he finally sped off down the ravine after his buddies.
Minutes later they felt safe enough to talk.
“This place creeps me out, Joe. I mean, there could be all kinds of snakes and scorpions in here.”
“If you’d rather leave, be my guest. But the hoverboard stays here.”
Both men fell quiet for a moment. “I thought caves were supposed to be cool. This ain’t cool, this is hell.”
Before Randall could answer, another voice did it for him.
A hoarse, familiar voice with a Virginia accent. An orange dot flared in the darkness and the scent of burnt tobacco trickled through the small cavern.
“This ain’t hell, but you can see it from here.”
The End
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About the Author
He’s the world’s oldest teenager. Reading, writing, and rock & roll make for an awesome life. The occasional beach doesn’t hurt, either.
Bill grew up in West Tennessee, riding his bike on narrow rural roads lined with wild blackberry bushes, in the days before urban sprawl. He spent those long rides dreaming of new worlds of adventure. Childhood for him was one interesting activity after another, from front yard football to naval miniatures, but from the very beginning reading was the central pillar of his life.
Any and all military history books fascinated him, beginning before age eight. By his teenage years, he had discovered J.R.R. Tolkien and Robert E. Howard, Robert Heinlein and Fritz Leiber. Teachers ripped comic books out of his hands during Spanish and accounting classes. Oops!
College found him searching for his favorite rock groups, smuggling beer into his dorm room, and growing his hair long. He read a book a day back then, sometimes two, and always SFF. He even went to class sometimes.
After college, he turned to writing history and nonfiction and was published a number of times, including in World War Two magazine.
In September of 2014, he wrote the first pages of what would become Standing The Final Watch and its direct sequel, Standing In The Storm, plus the fill-in work The Ghost of Voodoo Village. That was followed in 2017 by the launch of a brand new fantasy series Sharp Steel and High Adventure, starting with the novella Two Moons Waning. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? And if you like his work, a whole slew of new books are on the schedule for 2019 and 2020.
Bill is an Active (voting) member of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, the Society For Military History, and the Alliance of Independent Authors. He writes exclusive stories for those on his mailing list at his website, www.thelastbrigade.com.
Also by William Alan Webb
The Last Brigade
Standing the Final Watch
The Ghost of Voodoo Village
Standing in the Storm
Standing at the Edge
The Hairy Man
Sharp Steel and High Adventure
Two Moons Waning
The Queen of Death and Darkness
A Night at The Quay
Sharp Steel
The Time Wars
Jurassic Jail
Nonfiction
The Last Attack
Killing Hitler’s Reich
Unsuck Your Book
LifeEnders, Inc.
Kill Me When You Can
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