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Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(91)

Author:Kyla Stone

“You killed seven of my men at Vortex.”

“Guess your operators aren’t as competent as you think they are.”

Two of the men cursed. The bearded one made a move as if to kick him.

Liam didn’t flinch.

“Stand down, McArthur.” The General turned to Liam. “You murdered two more who came to collect what’s mine. You destroyed my Black Hawk and half my convoy, not to mention a healthy chunk of our ordnance. Fifteen million dollars of priceless government property.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The General narrowed his eyes. “What are you? Navy SEAL? Ranger? Delta?”

“More of a soldier than you are.”

He snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

“I will kill you,” Liam said. “You’re a dead man. You just don’t know it yet.”

The General gave a mirthless laugh. “I think you have things confused. It will be the other way around.”

“You going to kill me while I’m bound and helpless? You think that’s justice? Fight me man to man. Or are you going to have one of your minions do it instead?”

“Oh, I’ll kill you myself. A real man isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. I think we have that in common.”

“We have nothing in common.”

“You have considerable skills. So do I. I assume you’ve killed many men during your years of service. As have I. More than you, I’d wager. The capacity for violence isn’t limited to the young. Some of us have had many, many years to practice.”

Liam glared at him.

The General scowled. “You murdered my daughter in cold blood.”

“I didn’t murder anyone,” Liam said. “I am an American citizen and a proud veteran of the armed forces. You’re the one who conducted an air raid on unarmed civilians. Eleven innocent people died. I’d say you’re the murderer.”

“If they’d relinquished you as ordered by their sovereign government, they’d be sitting at their dinner tables, eating apple pie right now. It was their choice to defy the law—and suffer the consequences.”

“It was your choice to open fire, and yours alone. People just want to protect their families and survive. The only one asking for trouble is you. Leave us alone.”

The General snapped his fingers. “Chair.”

Luther slipped out of the industrial freezer and returned a moment later with a metal folding chair. He placed it about six feet from Liam’s position.

The General sat down facing Liam. He had impeccable posture, just like his daughter. He folded his gnarled hands in his lap. “I’ve sent a team to retrieve my great-granddaughter. I will bring her to Lansing with me. I’ve already procured a wet nurse and a nanny. Unlike the rest of you, I will provide her with proper food, medical care, and education. She will outlive me and carry the Sinclair name into the future. It will not end with me, but will go on forever.”

“You’re delusional. She’s not a Sinclair. She never will be.”

“As for the rest of the town—” The General gestured was as though washing his hands of them. “Let me tell you what will happen since you won’t be present to see it. As we speak, my soldiers are preparing for battle. At dawn, they’ll descend upon Fall Creek and shred your flimsy barricades. They will mow down your civilians with targeted artillery. Mortar shells will blast them to pieces. There will be little left to identify the bodies afterward.”

Liam strained against his restraints to no avail. Dread sprouted in the pit of his stomach and formed teeth and claws.

A trim, muscled man strode into the room. His hard gaze zeroed in on Liam. “Why the hell is he still alive?”

“To suffer is good for the soul, Gibbs,” the General said.

“This dirtbag killed Matherson, Thomas, and Garcia!” Gibbs spat.

Hostility vibrated off the General’s men in waves. Hate flashed in their eyes. Liam had eliminated several of their own. They weren’t going to forget it.

They wanted to see him suffer.

If the General didn’t kill him, they certainly would. Slowly and painfully.

“And he will pay for it,” the General said. “But first, he will pay for my daughter.”

“Your daughter was a murderous tyrant,” Liam said. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

The General smiled, his eyes cold and ruthless. A predator’s eyes. “Within the next six hours, everyone you love will die. They will be afraid. They will suffer. And they will call out your name, and you will not be there to save them.”

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