The Slave Warrior Read online

  “Corpsman give the signal to move forward. And bring me Captain Larson. Move!”

  “Sir, yes sir!”

  Within minutes Captain Larson appeared. He came to a screeching halt at the sight of a blood-spattered soldier but managed to salute as the sound of motorcycles broke the night silence.

  “Captain, I want you and your squadron to go to the front line with the White Warrior. Follow her instructions to the letter. We will be right behind you.”

  “Sir, yes sir!” the Captain replied, his eyes wide knowing the White Warrior stood in front of him. He stood stunned until the General yelled at him to get a move on. He ran back to move his squadron forward.

  Brogan moved her faceplate down, pushed the button so her outfit was white again, allowing the rebels to easily see her. The Captain led the squadron rapidly toward the enemy camp. Because all sentries on the west side of the camp were already dead, the squadron got within 300 yards of the camp before launching their grenades. The rest of the battalion spread out around them and began their attack. The rapidly moving motor cycles with their machine guns and grenade launchers devastated the sleeping camp. Tents caught on fire and soldiers who stumbled out were shot on sight. The whole battle lasted less than two hours, with only ten casualties on the rebel side, but thousands of imperial soldiers killed, wounded or taken as prisoners. It was a rout.

  Max and rebels from Laredo moved in from the east at the first sounds of battle, effectively cutting off any escape route. It was dawn by the time mopping up finished: prisoners transported to the base camp in Laredo, wounded cared for and the dead burned. The battle-weary rebels received food and a place to collapse in barracks, while Max, Stephen, Juan and Brogan met in the officer’s mess. Juan asked one of his aides to find her a clean uniform to wear until hers could be cleaned.

  Stephen gave Brogan a huge hug. Tears sparkled in his eyes. It was a while before he could speak.

  “You and Emily are all I have left,” he finally managed to say. “And I thought I’d lost you, too. You don’t know how good it is to see you.”

  Brogan tried to feel some emotions, but there was nothing; her heart was numb. It had been that way since Bryan died. Maybe that’s the way it would be for the rest of her life. Maybe she had no room in her heart for anything but killing and revenge. She managed a small smile.

  “It is good to see you, too, Stephen.” Something moved in her heart at the thought of Emily, but that, too, seemed to shrivel back under a protective shell.

  Stephen shivered at the cold and dead look in Brogan’s green eyes. His heart ached for his beautiful daughter-in-law. She had been through so much. She just needed time. She needed time with her daughter. That was it.

  “Are you going to see Emily soon?” he asked.

  “I can’t,” Brogan replied without emotion. “I will not take a chance on someone from Priest’s office finding out about her and using her against me. Dad is taking good care of her.”

  She turned away from Stephen.

  “Juan, is there somewhere I can get some sleep? It’s been a long time since I’ve slept more than three or four hours at a time and I’m running on empty.”

  “Sure. Dad, where can Brogan bunk for a while?”

  “Right this way, Brogan.” Max said and led her behind the officer’s mess to an officer’s bunk.

  Brogan brought her backpack in from her cycle and tossed it on the bunk.

  “Thanks, Max. I’m going to crash for a while.”

  Max closed the door behind him and went back to the officer’s mess.

  “That’s one closed off woman,” he said to the group as he walked back in. “She’s headed for a break down if she doesn’t get help.”

  “You are right, Dad,” Juan replied. “But you don’t know the half of it. She is the White Warrior. And she has become a cold, efficient killing machine. Whether it is in response to Bryan’s death, the time in prison in Boston City, or both, I don’t know. But she’s not the Brogan I knew before. I’m worried about her.”

  Stephen and Max were shocked when Juan told them she was the White Warrior. They heard rumors about her. They appreciated how valuable she was to the rebellion, but they also knew killing demanded a terrible toll emotionally on a person, especially someone like Brogan who had always been such a caring and loving person.

  “We need to keep her name quiet,” Juan cautioned them. “She doesn’t want anyone else to know her real name. She wants to use the anonymity to encourage the rebels and terrorize the imperial soldiers. So far it has worked.

  “But I’ve been wondering if there is a way we can use the concept and expand it. What if we developed an elite squadron of rebels we call the White Warriors? Kind of like the old Navy Seals concept from the 21st Century? We could train them to infiltrate enemy camps, do covert operations and use specialized skills.”

  They enthusiastically embraced the idea. Max recruited some scientists and engineers who began work to figure out how her helmet, bodysuit and rifle worked so they could replicate them. And that was the beginning of a group of specialized warriors. Brogan became not only their leader, but their mascot. The White Warriors were a reality. Maybe now the Book Liberators had a chance to restore the lost freedoms to the citizens of the American Empire.

  Chapter Two

  Love Triumphs

  The sleek, black submarine sank beneath the icy waters of Lake Michigan. The only sound was the crack of the thin ice as it disappeared. Allison Simpson and Marco Anton would never forget the journey under the frigid waters and ice of Lake Michigan. Shortly after returning the newly minted White Warrior to the shore, the Captain ordered them to their cabin as an emergency announcement ordered all hands to secure themselves for an ice floe ahead. Not exactly sure what it meant, they huddled anxiously together in the tiny cabin assigned to Allison. It was their first sight of a submarine and now they were taking a trip inside one as representatives of the Book Liberator rebels.

  The cabin consisted of a single bunk and a storage area. Even though they had nothing but the clothes on their back and backpacks, it turned out to be more than adequate. There wasn’t much head room, so they removed their parkas and boots and laid down together. The could feel the submarine begin a steep dive and they clung together, not sure what to expect. In a short time, an “all clear” signal helped to slow their breathing. They realized for only the second time, they were clasped in each other’s arms.

  Marco turned to face Allison, not wanting to let go for a moment. She saw the yearning in his eyes reflected in her own.

  “Is it true, my sweet, the captain of a ship can perform bonding ceremonies?” Marco asked softly.

  “Why I do believe it is true, my love,” Allison replied with a giggle. “Why? Is there someone wanting to be bonded?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact there is, and we’ve waited way too long. Now, will you bond with me or not?” he asked with a pretend scowl on his face.

  Allison burst into laughter. “That has to be the most unromantic proposal I have ever heard. But, because it is coming from you, and because I feel the same way, how about we go ask the Captain if she’ll perform the ceremony?”

  They eagerly untangled themselves, opened the cabin door and ran down the hall. Gaining permission from Lieutenant Geoffrey to enter the bridge was easy, now the submarine from the Canadian Royal Fleet was underway. Captain Margaret Shoemacker turned from the bewildering array of equipment and greeted them.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “Captain, sir?” Marco asked, with a huge grin on his face. “Would you be willing to perform a bonding ceremony for us?”

  The captain, a stern-looking, middle-aged woman with a commanding presence looked at the couple, both with silly, love-sick grins on their faces.

  “Of course,” she replied with a smile. “But we do old fashioned marriages in Canada, if that’s okay? How about in couple of hours? That will give me and the crew time to make sure everything is running smoot
hly for our run to the border and I can dig out my ceremony book; it’s been a while. In the meantime, why don’t you go to the mess hall and ask the cook if he will prepare a celebratory supper. The crew needs a party. We’ve been in this tin can for several months and this will be just what they need.”

  Allison and Marco followed the captain’s directions to the mess hall and located a roly-poly sailor by the name of Master Seaman Mike with an apron tied around his ample waist. He grinned broadly at their request.

  “By Jove, that’s exactly what we need to cheer up the crew. You leave the planning to me. Let’s plan on 1800 hours for the celebration, okay?”

  Allison looked at Marco as they headed back to her cabin. His eyes looked a bit glazed. She laughed. “What’s the matter, Marco? Reality finally setting in? You never believed yourself the bonding. or shall I say, marrying type, did you?”

  She stopped and forced him to turn and look at her. She placed both hands on her hips and looked at him. Her lips quivered as she tried hard not to smile.

  “And don’t you even think of backing out, mister. You proposed. I accepted. And it’s for life. Capish?”

  Marco backed up a step and gulped. “I…I…. would never think of backing up, honey. I love you.” His brow furrowed as he realized she teased him. “You minx. You’re teasing me!”

  He reached for her, but she adroitly skipped away from him, ran into the cabin and locked the door. He tried to open it. “Hey, let me in!”

  “No way! You cannot see me until the ceremony!”

  The captain was walking down the tight passageway. “Problems, Marco?”

  “No, I mean, yes. My bride-to be won’t let me.”

  “He’s not supposed to see me until the ceremony!” Allison yelled from her cabin

  “She’s right, Marco, it’s bad luck. Now go to the galley and drown your sorrows in a beer. I’ll see you in there in less than an hour. And don’t you dare get drunk!”

  Marco morosely headed toward the galley. But inside he laughed at this fun side of Allison he’d never seen before. Life with her is never going to be dull, that’s for sure. He straightened up and started whistling as he entered the mess hall. He thought of some fun and interesting ways to get back at her after the ceremony. Most of them involved getting her clothes off. Now that would be fun!

  After Marco left, the captain tapped on Allison’s door. “Allison, do you have anything special to wear for the ceremony?”

  The door opened, and she beckoned the captain in. She wore a slinky white, floor-length dress, hugging every curve.

  “Wow! Where on earth did that dress come from?” the captain asked.

  “Well, as we packed our emergency supplies to escape, I slipped it into my backpack, hoping I might be able to use it. You see, Marco and I loved each other at a distance for several years. I knew after I escaped from the emperor’s jail we might have a chance to be together, so his mother and I went shopping and found this dress. As you can see it doesn’t wrinkle so it is perfect for an emergency. And now it seems the emergency has arrived.”

  “I’d say you are absolutely correct. Now I’ll see if I can find something suitable for Marco to wear.” The captain looked at her vid-phone. “We have another hour before the ceremony is supposed to start. I’ll send one of the junior officers to let you know when it is time, okay?”

  Allison nodded. The butterflies started flying around in her stomach, but she and Marco had waited so long she was confident they would be flying in formation by the time of the ceremony.

  The captain located a dress uniform to fit Marco. She announced a special event in the mess hall at 1700 and she expected everyone to attend in their dress uniforms. At the sound of the ship’s bell, the mess hall quickly filled with crew. The 70 crew members not on duty filled the small space. Marco, the captain and witnesses for the bride and bridegroom stood at the front waiting for the bride. The door to the mess hall opened and over the ships intercom the traditional wedding march started. The entire crew stood as Allison walked down the aisle on the arm of the lieutenant.

  Marco gasped at the vision in white walking down the aisle. He had to be luckiest man in the world. Allison was simply stunning in a body-hugging gown. Her blond hair curled around her head in a golden halo. Her blue eyes shone with love and focused only on him. He forced himself to stay put rather than run down the aisle and sweep her into his arms. He never recalled what exactly the captain said during the ceremony until he heard from a distance the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife.” He pulled her into his arms and fell in love with Allison all over again. It was worth the wait.

  When they both came up for air, the crew cheered and clapped enthusiastically. They turned to the audience and raised their clasped hands in triumph, setting off another round of cheering. As they walked down the aisle, the crew bombarded them with a cascade of confetti. Where they got it, the couple never found out, but it was perfect.

  Master Seaman Mike greeted them at the galley door, pushing a three-layer, beautifully decorated wedding cake. How in the world did he find the time to bake and decorate a cake? Allison and Marco looked at each other, shrugged and decided to just go with the flow. Mike whispered to them they should only cut the top layer because the bottom two layers were made from cardboard and covered with frosting. Perfect! But not so perfect if the crew realized there wasn’t enough cake to go around. Like a genie, however, Mike pulled out a large decorated sheet cake he planned on serving for dinner anyway, so there was no problem.

  Dinner was superb. The newly married couple thoroughly enjoyed chatting with the crew, getting to know their neighbors from the north. They asked a lot of questions about their lifestyles and what had been going on in Canada since borders between their countries were erected by Prime Minister Altero during World War III. At midnight and shift change, the captain ordered the crew back to their stations and Allison and Marco went to the captain’s quarters for their honeymoon.

  “It’s your honeymoon,” she insisted when they protested using her cabin. “The tiny crew quarters are just not adequate. We arrive at the Canadian border in a couple of days, I’ll want the cabin back at that time, but it’s yours until then.”

  Allison and Marco hardly moved from the captain’s quarters for two days. They made up for their years apart, exploring each other’s bodies and getting to know each other in ways they never dreamed possible. Food was delivered to their quarters whenever they requested it, but most of the time, they focused on each other. Marco only came out of the room once to send an encrypted message to his parents at their secret resort in Central America to let them know they were married and safely on their way to Canada.

  The couple learned enough from their new Canadian friends to know they had a long way to go before rebels could count on support from their neighbors to the North. The Canadian government supported a strong isolationist policy in their interaction with other countries. But Brogan Finlay-Douglass, the first White Warrior, charged them with enlisting Canada’s help to fight Emperor Priest, so their mission was clear. But the mission would wait until they arrived in Canada.

  Chapter Three

  A Change of Plans

  After a violent fight with a small band of the enemy near the Louisiana border, which they won decisively, the two White Warriors considered only traveling at night. But after seeing the devastation caused by a tornado they agreed they did not want to be caught in the dark and out in the open if a tornado hit. This was a regular occurrence this time of year, so they continued to travel by daylight.

  Twice more they ran into some of Emperor Priest’s soldiers and were forced to fight their way out of the dangerous situations. Neither incident included more than a dozen soldiers, so they had no problems.

  Brogan was impressed with Sandra’s fighting ability. She was issued the same laser pulse guns, armored body suit and facemask as Brogan wore. Together they were a lethal duo, despite the differences in their size. Brogan was 5’11” feet tall
and weighed 145 pounds, while Sandra was barely 5-feet tall and probably 90-pounds soaking wet.

  Based on the route super-imposed on their facemasks, they avoided metropolitan areas and still made good time, taking their cycles up to speeds of over 120 mph most of the time. The encrypted message to Brogan from Marco and Allison Anton, asking her to come to Canada, arrived two days before the scheduled Book Liberator rebel army’s move to take back Austin City from the emperor’s forces.

  Since Brogan was the original White Warrior, they were confident she would be able to persuade the Canadians to support the rebels in their fight against the increasingly paranoid Emperor David Priest.

  At first, Brogan would not consider it, but after talking to other council members they convinced her of the potential long-term benefit, so she reluctantly agreed. The Laredo BL council consisted of representatives from various citizen quadrants, as well as Juan Veracruz, promoted to general of the rebel forces, his father Max, her father-in-law, Stephen, and Brogan as chairperson. The 25-member council could sometimes be a headache, but everyone agreed it was critical to include citizen representation, even with the frequent, frustrating and heated disagreements.

  Brogan called an emergency meeting of the council, presenting Marco’s message to them and asking for input.

  “For those of you on the council who do not know them, Marco and Allison were members of the original BL council of six. They escaped to Canada after his father’s estate north of Chicago City was attacked by imperial troops. Marco Anton, Sr. has a good working relationship with Canada because of his black-market connections. The couple has been trying tirelessly for three years to convince members of the Canadian parliament to supply troops and arms in support of our cause, but they apparently have made little progress.

  “Now they seem to think I can persuade them to support us. What do you think? Before you say anything, remember we are scheduled for the big battle in Austin City on July 4th. Obviously, it is where I would rather be, but some of you seem to think otherwise. The topic is now open for discussion.”