Free Revolution of the Gods: The Battle for Sol Book One by W.R. Hobbs Page A

According to what you have explained, I recommend we begin Operation Goliath no later than tomorrow.”
    “I agree General, time is of the essence. What may I ask are you going to do regarding Taon?”
    The cigarette made a soft hissing sound as Bracken took a long, calming draw of the smoke. With a furrowed brow, he pulled the burning tobacco away from his lips. The general rested his right hand on the desk with the cigarette between his fingers and began tapping his thumb. He considered his response for a few moments then said, “I will withdraw the recon team. And let us hope he finds his destination. Lindherst’s men will still be conducting an unrelenting search to capture him.”
    “Taon will not be without help,” Hauer cryptically assured.
    “That’s good because we’re all gonna need as much help as we can get,” Bracken confessed, exhaling his last puff of smoke with a tinge of guilt.
    “I will prepare for the meeting and attempt to isolate Taon’s location. It is of the utmost importance that he arrives at his destination. Otherwise our effort will be severely and most irreparably handicapped,” the doctor said, rising back to his feet. “It is good to know that you have arrived at the correct decision- the one that can help save this world.”
    Hauer waited for Bracken to unlock the door and headed back to Level 176. Bracken sat gazing at the photograph of his wife and two sons on the right side of his desk. The general had already planned to make accommodations to bring them to the facility but that was based on a longer timeline. Things were about to happen much quicker than anticipated and he felt a streak of panic run through him.
    I have to make sure they are safe.
    As his office windows switched back to transparent mode, Bracken observed Colonel Osborne looking in his direction from the command deck. Although Bracken had not brought him into his inner circle regarding Operation Goliath, he had a limited trust for Osborne nonetheless. The general could only afford an exclusive membership to his cause.
    Despite his competence, Osborne didn’t make the cut because of his murky spec ops history. The colonel was the prototypical officer. He wore his uniform to perfection and carried out each order likewise. Osborne was odd in one way. He stood over 6 foot 4 inches tall with the most perfect posture of any soldier Bracken had ever observed.
    “Colonel Osborne, report to my office,” Bracken rasped over his comm system.
    “Yes Sir,” Osborne said entering the office with a hastened stride.
    “I would like my family brought to the facility.”
    “Yes sir,” the colonel replied, thinking that the request for the transport of Bracken’s family was very strange.
    “I want you personally to take a V33 to Salt Lake City instead of a regular transport. I will alert my wife you will be there within the hour,” Bracken directed, standing up and rubbing his constricted forehead.
    “I will leave immediately.”
    After Osborne left the office, Bracken got back on his desk viewer and ordered the recon team to withdraw from Vegas. He then established a secure channel to General Straka.

Approaching Lewis-McChord Facility
    Ah! This never gets old!
Straka recalled as he piloted the V33 Raider toward to Tacoma, Washington. The V33 resembled a slightly smaller version of its predecessor the V-22 Osprey. The primary difference in the craft was that the Osprey’s tiltrotors had upgraded with tiltrepulsor nacelles. The upgraded engines allowed the Raider to achieve speeds over 700 mph, more than twice its predecessor.
    As Straka analyzed the fuel readout, an incoming message from Dugway flashed on the inside of his helmet visor. He accessed the message and a small projection of General Bracken’s image appeared in the visor’s top left corner.
    “Eric, I’ve got some new information that requires a completely new game plan. The stakes are infinitely higher than we imagined. Once you arrive, I want you to