Time Management for Mercenaries

Time Management for Mercenaries

Author: Dai Alanye

Designer: A F Donley

Copyright 2012 by Dai Alanye

Aardbassett Books

*

Time Management for Mercenaries

is an original work of fiction, the first book of a series. Except for historical events, persons or places, all other characters, locations, things and incidents are creations of the writer's imagination. Resemblances to actual happenings or individuals other than the historical, or to contemporary persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

The book is offered free for your enjoyment and to promote interest in my other works. Feel free to share it with other readers, but don't alter anything. After all, why meddle with perfection?

*

Time Management for Mercenaries

Chapter 00 ~ Valkyries

Pierce lay on his side dreaming of peace, his view of the slaughter-field blocked by ranks of spearmen. He'd run the gamut of emotions today—fear, irrational calm, anger, exhilaration, apprehension, and fear again as battle waxed and waned.

Near an hour had passed since the last attack. The sun lowered, half hidden in banks of mist. A light breeze blew from the south, wafting serried clouds high overhead.

Buttermilk sky. How queer the name in this bloody place.

Better imagine those sun-glinting drifts Valkyries come to carry the slain to a Saxon Valhalla, there to feast and fight and be made whole again until Gotterdammerung. The swan-maidens would have heavy work this gore-soaked day.

In him they awaited a reluctant fighter a millennium out of time. What sense to travel so many years and miles to seek an early death? He felt a brief unreasoning anger at the man who'd brought him here.

Unreasoning... for none but Brian Pierce was ultimately to blame.

*

Chapter 01 ~ The Right Man

In the study of a fine old home—two walls lined with books, plank floor dark and lustrous—sat a brawny strong-featured man, his dark hair streaked with gray. The Southern California sun, barely restrained by filmy curtains, beat in through tall windows as he spoke into the phone, his voice husky.

"Yes, I understand, and I hope you... No, no hard feelings. You have your... Well, thank... thank you for your... No, my discretion is... Certainly not, Colonel."

As a larger man entered, he turned to glower in disgust before returning to the phone.

"Absolutely. Under the circumstances you've pointed out... You've convinced... No... No, I simply have to give up this project. Yes... yes... Right."

He hung up, leaning back and giving a huge sigh.

"Colonel Radabaugh again, Mister Cam?"

Dimarico turned weary eyes toward the doorway.

"Who else? Hard to get a word in edgewise."

"You say you're quitting?"

"To shut him up. I'll never quit—you know that."