Free Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) by Ian J. Malone Page B

about the sinister nature of it that appealed to Link’s twisted sense of humor. Therefore, since there was no official title in the game for “professional smuggler” or “trash-talking captain,” Link took on the role of “Reconnaissance Specialist,” in line with the stealthy nature of the job.
    Finally there was Hamish, call sign “Wulver,” a name he’d taken after an old Scottish legend about a morally noble werewolf who would leave fish on the windowsills of the poor who couldn’t otherwise afford to feed their families. Much like the mythical beast for which he was so aptly named, Hamish was a friend to both all who knew him, and all who didn’t. His infectious Scottish charm and immensely extroverted personality never allowed anyone to be a stranger for long, and generally, this translated to newfound friendships wherever he went. By the same token, Hamish Lunley was by no means one to be crossed, and on the rare occasions when that happened, his monstrous physique alone made him a force to be reckoned with. So when the time came to fill the slot of Engineering Specialist with an extra emphasis on heavy ordinance, the choice couldn’t have been clearer. In short, Lunley’s job was to either fix things, or blow them up with as much violence, horror, and fiery spectacle as was humanly possible, and he did both with a smile. In the air, as was often the case in real life, he usually served alongside Link, most times as a navigator onboard the Tuskan—or in cases of combat—from the bomber’s primary, rear-deck gunnery chair. No matter the stage, real-life or virtual, the duo was a team all their own. Always had been, always would be.
    Finally, once their call signs had been designated, and their MOS assignments had been identified, all that remained was for the five to choose a moniker that, henceforth, would forever define them as a group in the massive digital universe of Mako Assault . After tossing around a number of quasi-serious options, like the “Merchants of Death” and “Blade Runners,” plus a few corny ones, the consensus favorite being “The Imperial Guard of the Chocolate Star Fish,” they eventually settled on “The Renegades,” an homage to their alma mater of Florida State, whose mascot was the Seminole Indian, and a salute to their not-so-by-the-book style of gameplay. Shortly thereafter, Mac had even gone so far as to design them a custom squadron patch. Featuring a classically styled, shield-shaped crest with a distressed, battleworn surface, the golden insignia was split down its center by a brilliant flaming spear and capped with a garnet banner which read simply, “Renegades: Never Divided.” Upon her initial unveiling of the masterpiece, the design itself drew rave reviews from the others, largely in part for its sleek look and intricate detail work. However, the logo itself paled in comparison to the meaning of the banner, a fact which each of them made it a point to note. Once the name had been verified with the PGC servers, the logo was submitted and the group was officially clear to begin what they were certain would be a historical campaign of online terror and carnage against a ruthlessly brutal imaginary foe.
    ****
    “Lee, you’re my boy and all, but dude !” Link grumbled, fanning through the pages of Lee’s manuscript-sized E-42 briefing packet. “We’ve really gotta find you a girl because you’ve obviously got way too much time on your hands.”
    “Aye Lee,” Hamish agreed. “Is this a mission briefing or a bloody manifesto?”
    “Sorry about that, fellas,” Lee apologized. “But this is the final mission of the game and from everything I’ve been able to find about it online, which ain’t much given that only one other clan in the world has been this far, they throw a lot of curveballs at us in this one.”
    “Curveballs my ass,” Link muttered. “More like a friggin’ no-hitter, apparently.”
    “Okay, here’s what we know,” Lee