Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3) by David Beers (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

only way to stop this. Last time, we made the mistake of thinking we could capture him. By the end of this planet’s night, he'll be done, and most likely Hel will be too."

He was staring at the ceiling, and Veena was wondering at her naiveté. She had spent her whole life serving the Commonwealth. She had no husband or wife, no kids, nothing. She'd known this type of work was competitive. Where life and death hang in the balance, things must be competitive and sometimes ruthless.

But this wasn’t what she'd signed up for. This wasn’t why she'd sacrificed any semblance of a personal life. Ares wasn't what she thought he’d be when she first met him, an arrogant child with a godlike physical nature. He was more and yet somehow less. An arrogant child might be selfish, but not this calculating.

She turned to leave the small room and placed her hand on the doorknob, then paused as a thought hit her.

This is dangerously close to things Kane might have felt, Veena. Feelings that led to him releasing Subversives.

"You okay?" Ares asked from his bed.

"Yeah. Ready for this to be finished," Veena said, though she wasn't sure if she was okay.

The torture ended, and Thoreaux was placed back in his room.

Darkness lived around him. Rats scurried to and fro, their nails click-clacking on the stone floor.

None of that existed for Thoreaux, though. When they opened the door to toss in a bowl of slop, he didn't hear it open or close. They didn't even bother locking the door behind them; they were sure he wouldn’t escape.

He didn't, either.

Thoreaux lived in pain that shouldn't exist. The gods themselves should have said that pain of this magnitude was not allowed. His foot trembled, and he was unable to stop it. Where flesh had been was now seared black. He'd watched that psychopath slowly peel back his skin with the sharpest knife he'd ever seen.

The trembling traveled up his legs, all the way to his arms. His lips began to quiver, and he rolled over on his side. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and once again, Thoreaux prayed for death. He whimpered in the silence of his room, his voice unheard.

Chapter Thirteen

“We create the greatest warriors in the universe, and we sell them at a premium to people who cannot afford to lose.”

—The Orion Corporation

The price had been low for the information they’d received, but Alistair understood it wouldn’t do much to help them survive the coming attack. They didn’t switch their rooms. Alistair figured they were being watched, and changing where they slept might alert their followers. He needed these people to attack because without that, finding Thoreaux would be even harder.

He and his remaining council talked it through. The attackers would know about Alistair's modifications. They would know about the group’s weapons, including his Whip. Perhaps the only thing they wouldn't know was the AllMother's capacity, though no one wanted to test her abilities. It was strange, having someone with almost limitless mental powers at their disposal but knowing that to use her once might end her life.

It wasn't worth it.

They weren't sure which room they'd attack first or when they’d strike. Alistair thought the enemy would value killing over capture. He believed the Commonwealth had given up on capturing him. Their record wasn't great.

With darkness still outside their hotel, the group went to their rooms. Each slept with their weapon of choice by their side. Relm held a MechPulse across his chest. Servia kept a StarBeam in her right hand and a knife in her left in case the fighting was close. Faitrin had surprised Alistair when given the choice of weapons. She'd pulled out two daggers, each about a half-meter in length.

"They aren't great for dreadnought fighting, but in hotel rooms?" she'd said. "There isn't anything much better if living is your ultimate goal."

Alistair spent an hour or so walking around the hotel. He wanted to make sure he understood the layout. The building was over a thousand meters tall, and everyone in it was dependent on an elevator to some degree. If the coming force somehow managed to shut them down, there would be problems with escape.

You won’t be escaping, Alistair told himself. You'll be capturing one of them, or you'll die trying.

The one important thing he’d noticed while walking the premises was the empty floors above and below his; all guests and businesses were gone. He didn't know if that had been the case before, only that no one was around them now.

He went back to Faitrin and had her check in with Jeeves.

"It said there's no record of any construction or anything else going on. It also said the business four floors above ours is still registered as the renter."

Alistair didn't need to talk about it with his council. He knew what it meant because he'd done it countless times as a Titan. Usually, they cleared the entire building, but this one was too big for that. Someone had been paid off, probably multiple someones from businesses to government, even law enforcement. The android had said outright violence was about the only thing you couldn't do on this planet, so the powers that be were making sure what happened tonight would go unnoticed by everyone except the participants.

If it's a war they want, he thought, then it's a war I'll give them.

Servia and the AllMother were sharing a room, and Obs lay on the floor of Alistair's quarters. Relm and Faitrin remained alone.

No one slept.

Alistair lay on his back like he had the night before. It was hard to judge the time since darkness was constantly around them. He kept his eyes closed and focused on listening.

Obs was a clever beast. He lay on the floor snoring, though there was no way he was asleep.

When they came, they came hard.

Gas canisters shot through the windows of all four rooms at the same time. Had anyone been in front of the windows, the canisters would have