Topher Lydon

Chapter 6: The Pomeranian and The Plan The room was a stark, concrete shoebox of a maintenance room, repurposed as a holding cell deep within the Brisay Dam complex. The only furniture was a single, rusted bench and the smell was a stale mix of ozone, damp concrete, and fear. Steve Hickey, ever the chaos agent, was pacing the short length of the room, his shock finally burning off and replaced by a thin, frantic bravado. "Okay, so when this dude—this 'Wolf'—comes in, we stick to the sto

My friend, I wish I had your ability to select just the perfect gif per chapter, you have a talent

To be fair: 1 x experimental ASAT missile 1x F-22 Raptor are rather an expensive favour to buy Sarah's opportunity to kidnap a mildly stoned Furniture Salesman

out of them all, no one fit the Order better.

Chapter Fifteen WORLD END: T-minus 111 days, 0 hours, and 15 minutes The MUMBAI Store, Bayshore Shopping Centre, Ottawa. Ned Sanderson leaned a handsome shoulder against a wall of aggressively-priced, distressed-wood shelves. The air in the MUMBAI Store was thick with the scent of cheap varnish and the cloying synthetic perfume they pumped through the ventilation system—the smell of Always on Sale. His shift felt like it was moving at the speed of the fake brass clock mounted pre

I remember seeing a concept of this Drone waaaaaaaaaaaaay back when I was working in Russia. Basically it was a field gun, attached to a massive heavy lift drone, it could be deployed from two freight trucks, and deployed with rapid speed, providing heavy CAS capability from almost anywhere, typically from behind enemy lines. Terrifying thing. I figured let's repurpose it and give it to Yani and give the Order a spanking with it.

Yeah, they also have to deal with an even greater threat, they just put a bored, hyper genius, and a pastry chef inside their defenses...

Brittle snow, fortified dam, and a baddie that isn't prepared for what's about to hit him like a tidal wave. Kenny's coming for his Steve!

Wolf's going to need a bigger gun.

Chapter 5: Chase on the Trans-Taiga The air inside the hidden cove was thick with the scent of pine, frost, and fear. Alex sat hunched over the Otter’s console. Kenny was strapped into the navigator’s seat, his face pale but utterly focused, the horror of the ransacked cabin having finally channeled his panic into clinical, procedural clarity. The dashboard screen, displaying the live feed from the OSI drone, was their sole window to the world. It showed a silent, sweeping eye in the

It is hard to fit them in when things are this ratcheted up, I have a few chapters to address this coming up. Just when you are faced with high kinetic asymmetrical warfare, finding time can be hard. "I'm out of Marshmellows, Jon," Martha grumbles from the kitchen, bullets shredding the old farm house around her. "Can I have mine with pink ones please Grandma Martha?" Tommy asked politely, as a grenade shattered the window and bounced a few times in the fruitbowl before exploding, sending chunks of apple everywhere. "Sure thing sweetie... just as soon as your Grandpa Jon's finished sending these Order mercenaries packing with his shotgun." "Jacob, can you pass me the next box of shotgun shells please," Grandpa Jon asked. Jacob half buried under boxes of ammunition, nodded, tugging out a large box of 12 gauge ammo. "Can you help me with my homework after, Grandpa Jon? I have to write a two page essay on the impact of religion on my domestic bliss." "Damn it, what are they teaching in Canadian Middle School these days?" Grandpa Jon glanced up and fired twice before reloading. "I blame your Father, he's supposed to be sorting out the State Education crisis, right?" Peter, wholly unconcerned sketched the scene with his pencils, "oh it's not his fault, I blame the Bob Hesston educational reforms. Will's going to get to it I am sure."

Screw the Order!

Chapter Fourteen WORLD END: T-minus 111 days, 4 hours, and 17 minutes Lake Erie Shoreline, Ontario, Canada. The air was a blade of metallic cold, sharp with the damp scent of frozen marshland and late-autumn decay. On the remote, gravel shoreline of Lake Erie, the world was reduced to the harsh, focused beams of infrared lighting and the pervasive, low-frequency hum of a heavy-duty inverter. Yani, the Technical Quartermaster, was hunched over his field console, a single, bril

that is very true, they might just get there and find Steve running the joint

They have what they have, yes. One gun, minimal bullets. One amphibious watercar/jeep thingy... a drone, and a multitool each. To, and I am quoting Kenny here, "Get our idiots back."

oh I wouldn't say he will be completely without punishment...

I have lost some good friends to the years here, and I miss them dearly. Thank you for giving us a chance to remember them.

I believe Brian explicitly said as much and Alex has every intention of making the person who made Brian cry regret it. but that's for later in the book

I've wanted to do an ASAT mission since I read about them back... omg years ago now... so finally got an excuse.

Chapter 4: The Only Way Out is Through The view from the window was a study in desperate contrast. Inside the small cabin, the air was thick with the scent of pine smoke and residual panic, illuminated by the harsh reality of the unfolding crisis. Outside, the lake lay serene and black under the afternoon sky, broken only by the sight of a single, dark, alien shape bobbing gently on the water, its small nose-light blinking a rhythmic, insistent message: Mijo. Mijo. Mijo. For a long, p