Free World War IV: A Broken Union by James Hunt Page A

had collapsed on the floor.
    The barrel of the rifle was still smoking as Ruiz shifted his aim back to Fung. “Impressive, isn’t it? It’s a variation of the model the Russians sent me. I was impressed they were even able to build such a thing.”
    Fung held up a trembling hand from the floor, scooting backwards, his eyes still squinting from the bright lights around him that shone with no flame. “Presidente, please, I beg you. Spare me.”
    Ruiz lowered the weapon. “You’re more valuable to me alive than dead.” He tossed the gun back on the table and walked past the other projects his engineers were developing. Fung stood up, brushing the splinters and dust that had collected on his robe, and walked to a table where thin wires poked out behind a box lid.
    Fung’s expression lingered between confusion and hysteria. “I don’t understand. You said the old nations created the very weapons that destroyed them. That their enemies scrambled to create what they had done. Won’t this end the same? Won’t this destroy what you’ve built?”
    “They provided one very crucial element to their demise, one that could have been prevented the moment they created the bombs of death.” Ruiz inched himself to Fung until he was close enough to smell the oils on the ambassador’s skin. “Mercy. They could have stopped the others before they had a chance to cultivate such weaponry. But I promise you this, Fung, I will not make the same mistake as those that came before me.”

 
    ***
    For the first time in nearly a week, Sydney harbor was free of the burdensome view of Chinese warships. But even with the enemy gone, the scent of lead and blood still lingered in the air. It was a smell Lance never thought would leave his nose. Even with the breeze blowing a steady, salty wind before him, all he could taste was the grit of gunpowder.
    Lance held the parchment between his fingers, looking over Dean’s message one last time. The ship carrying the letter was finally able to deliver it once the blockade was lifted. Jason had been taken by Ruiz, the Russians were invading from the north, and Dean had ordered the western fleet to meet at the Pacific entrance of the Panama Canal to join forces with the Eastern fleet once Jason had been rescued, then sail west to aid the Australians against the Chinese. Dean ordered that Lance return at once to the northwest and command the army to oppose Rodion.
    “Ship’s ready, Captain.” Canice still wore the same clothes she had in battle, as did Lance and most of the crew. Even with the lull in fighting, they had little time to rest. With his brother departing to the south to rescue Jason, and the Russians already having a foothold in Alaska and making their way south, time was a resource they couldn’t afford to waste.
    “Tell the crew we depart in less than an hour. If they’re not on the boat by the time we leave, then I’m turning them over to the Australian Navy.” Lance headed back over to the Port Authority’s office, where Danny was slumped in his chair, the skin underneath his eyes nearly drooping to the desk. “How much longer till New Zealand’s provisions arrive?”
    Danny looked up at Lance, either too tired to answer or in disbelief he was still in Sydney. Lance snapped his fingers and slammed his palm on the table. Danny shook his head, the sudden noise shocking his senses. “Should only be another day. We’ve sent a number of our ships there for repairs as well.”
    With New Zealand to their south and no known Chinese behind the territory, it gave the Aussies a chance to regroup, but that island was their last line of defense. They couldn’t afford to give up any more ground to the Chinese. “Your scouts are coming back with reports that Delun and his forces have permeated most of the islands in the north, with the Philippine port as their main base of command.” Lance grabbed one of the maps from the pile of papers near Danny and spread it out. “Once Delun