Metal Warrior: Precious Metal (Mech Fighter Book 5) by James David Victor

Author:James David Victor [Victor, James David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fairfield Publishing
Published: 2021-03-01T16:00:00+00:00

“Corsoni? Corsoni!?” Dane repeated, but all that he received in response was the stubborn and unchanging,

>Service unavailable!

>>Unable to connect to local area network (GLADIUS) . . .

“Dammit,” he whispered, pushing himself up from the cavern floor to sweep his suit lights over the others. They were on their own down here.

“It must be all that fracking rock above us,” Hopskirk muttered from where he was standing a few paces away. Bruce was already turning to examine the rest of the tunnel. It was large, with vaulted walls and ceiling, but there seemed to be a glimmer that caught the light down there.

“What is that?” Hopskirk said immediately, raising his pulse rifle to stride forward down the tunnel.

“. . . for frack’s sake . . .” Dane muttered, hurrying after the Marine. Hopskirk was behaving erratically, Dane knew. Too emotional. Uncontrolled. And Dane knew that if he had the power or the choice, then he would demand, by hook or crook or even a right hook if he had to, that Hopskirk wait this one out. Dane moved past Bruce, who was standing stock still.

“Bruce? You good?” he asked the big man.

“Fan-blinking-tastic,” Cheng grumbled, and Dane saw him heave a big sigh before breaking into a march after Hopskirk. Something was up, and Dane was once again about to put it down to the stress of the mission when he caught himself. No, they’d been on bad missions before, hadn’t they?

“Okay, Cheng—what is it?” Dane asked as he walked. They could see Hopskirk in front of them, having slowed down as they kept on towards the distant light. It was probably too much to hope for that it was a way out, Dane thought to himself.

“Kayla,” Bruce suddenly said, out of nowhere.

“Huh?” Dane asked.

“Her name is Kayla. We met in San Francisco before the attack,” Bruce admitted. “She studied environmental science, and I was doing a major in history, going to become a teacher, I thought,” the big man mumbled. “I was doing amateur-pro sumo in Tokyo for five years, but you know what the sports game is like, Williams,” Bruce muttered, and Dane nodded in agreement. It was one of the things that had first bonded them when they had arrived at Fort Mayweather Mechanized Infantry Boot Camp—that they had both done semi-pro fighting sports, Bruce with his sumo wrestling, and Dane with his Mech-Brawling.

“There’s no future in it,” Bruce continued. “You get a few years before your joints are too shot to compete anymore, so that was when I decided to retrain at the only other thing I was good at . . . history.” The big man paused for a moment. “My dad would finally be proud, I guess,” he muttered, and Dane could only agree with the feeling. His own father had been a boxer, and there had been little that Dane could have done to make his father proud of him.

“Anyway. It was at San Fran State that I met her. Kayla Lubowisc,” Bruce stated. “We had about two years together before we split, and then the next spring was when the Exin attacked .

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