Free World War IV: Alliances- Book 0 by James Hunt

was one of the reasons Lance worked with her. He needed someone to challenge him, let him know when he was wrong. But despite her protest, he knew he was right this time.
     
    Once on the docks, Lance ran his hand across the exposed hull of the ship where the crew was busy repairing some of the damage. He felt the rough metal, the dents and grooves a life at sea had given her. Each of those blemishes was hard earned, and behind them memories of what was possible.
     
    “Captain Mars?” The voice came from a small messenger boy clustered between the growing crowds at the docks. The boy wiggled his way through and extended a piece of parchment. “The message read Urgent, so I came as soon as I saw your ship in the bay.”
     
    The seal on the paper was Dean’s, and Lance took it warily, the boy waiting for his reply. He scanned the words, the news of Fred, and Jason’s trip to Brazil. He reread the line of Fred’s death a half dozen times before it finally sank in. He crunched the paper up, his heart rate jacked.
     
    “Captain Mars?” The messenger boy’s voice had a hint of fear. “Do you have a reply?”
     
    Lance slammed his fist into the side of the ship, the powerful blow offering nothing more than a dull thud against the thick steel. The hit caused two of his knuckles to bloody. He uncurled his fist and unrumpled the paper inside. When he turned, the boy jolted backward. “Take me to the communication post.”
     
    The boy nodded with his mouth hanging loosely and quickly turned on his heel, maneuvering through the crowded docks, where Lance ran into Danny. The Aussie’s eyes were weary, and his shoulders sagged. The loss of so many of his men knocked the wind out of him. Lance grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “You need to get the military officials together now and start making preparations. The Chinese may have turned back, but you can bet they’ve already started maneuvering their main fleet. Now that they don’t have the element of surprise, they’ll be looking to strike quickly. We need to be ready.”
     
    Danny stopped, dragging Lance with him. “Lance, most of our fleet is escorting a shipment of supplies from the Chilean coast. We won’t be able to withstand an attack if the Chinese come.”
     
    Lance looked dumbfounded. “Why would you have your fleet escorting merchant ships?”
     
    “We’ve been having a lot of raids happen in the southern Pacific routes. Pirates, marauders. We were losing too much cargo. President Ruiz suggested an armed escort to ensure the deliveries arrived without incident.”
     
    The dots started to connect. “Ruiz suggested it?” The Brazilians had wealth and the best engineers in the world living within their borders. If the Brazilians shared any of their technology in helping build the Chinese ships, then they could be in over their heads. And that meant Jason was in the heart of the lion’s den.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    The dozens of piles of scrolls stacked around Delun Ren’s desk looked as though they had imprisoned him in paper. Candlelight flickered inside the flapping walls of the tent where Delun sat hunched over a new parchment, writing. He dipped his pen in the black ink and carefully scratched the tip of the pen against the paper until he reached the end of the page, completing his journal for the day.
     
    Delun set the parchment aside, letting the ink dry, and stroked the thin wisps of a beard that sprouted from his chin. His jet-black hair was streaked with grey, offering the only signs of his age. His skin was tanned and still tight across his face, showing no wrinkles or blemishes.
     
    The front side of Delun’s tent flapped open, and his chamber’s silence was broken briefly from the noise of the men in camp. The soldier who entered removed his helmet and bent to his knee, where he waited for Delun to speak. “What news do you bring, Hong?”
     
    Hong had the same taut face as Delun’s, but more broad and flat, with nothing but a