“What a magnificent race of creatures, he thought, that could build an airport on top of a sailing ship. But what a wretched one that mainly used it to bomb one another back into the Stone Age… This march out onto the flight deck was different from any he had ever done before. Just for starters, he’d never been so tooled up with weapons and ammo – nor as encapsulated as he was in the riot gear/zombie armor suit. He felt like a damned turtle, and at least as helpless as one on its back. Right now..., it seemed to him that he could barely walk – and he ardently hoped he wasn’t going to have to run, as he had no idea how he was going to manage that. What is my smoking, lethargic, middle-aged arse doing under a load that would make an eighteen-year-old squaddie groan…? Much worse for his mental state was the fact that he’d absolutely never undertaken anything remotely like this: leading a motley and underqualified shore team – two NSF sailors, a former Stores crewman, a civilian survivor, and a former cop – out on a do-or-die mission to retrieve a DNA sequencer from deep in a Saudi Arabian city of 300,000, all now dead.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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