Project Sparta (The Xander Whitt Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

louder along with the stirring panic in the train, until it all stopped in a suspended moment. Silence followed by three quick sounds:
    A battle cry.
    A click.
    A boom.
     
    «————————»
     
    An old man perched on a stool outside of the Rosslyn Metro station was blowing into his harmonica with a strong vibrato. He made it sing like the old crooners he grew up with. He listened for the chime of coins in his donation bucket, but none came. The song was an original called “Freedom” and nobody noticed as they went about their scheduled days. People called him Old Man Cyrus. He was an African American who brought blues up from Louisiana to DC. Cyrus broke from his long melodic note into a rushing and puffing blues rhythm, tapping the percussion out on the sidewalk with his boot. The percussion began its crescendo, from a tap to a kick to a stomp.
    On his third stomp, a blast sounded and the ground rose up underneath him, knocking him off his bucket. He could hear screams coming from the station where a cloud of grey smoke billowed overhead. A stampede of people erupted out of the station, all of them covered in ash from head to toe, tripping over one another, wailing and crying in terror.
    Cyrus was too old to run. He slowly found his feet and collected his donation bucket, and then waited for the panicked mob to thin out. When he saw an opening, he sidled his way into the station, shocked by the scene before him. Cyrus sidestepped stragglers and the wounded as he made his way through the smoke, waving his hands to break up the thick smog.
    Heat began creeping up his body as he continued down the crooked and broken escalator. The smell of burning flesh stung his nostrils, and he raised an elbow to cover his mouth. As the cloud of smoke migrated farther into the station, the sight of the eastbound train came into view. It was a shell, a contortion of twisted metal, the center of which was aflame. Sirens sounded in the distance. Old Man Cyrus knelt down to say a prayer and then noticed something before him. He wiped away the soot in his eyes and picked up what lay at his feet. It was a teddy bear, half of which was missing, reduced to ash—the other half looked up at Cyrus through one eye, hanging loose by a thread.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
    Northern Virginia
    June 10 th 2010
     
     
     
    Young Xander Whitt sat in the passenger seat of Hardy’s black Suburban and stared at the white dashes on the pavement as his mind traveled the road ahead. The four-hour drive from Pennsylvania had been silent except for the country radio station Hardy played.
    “Why do you want young recruits?” Xander asked, catching Hardy in the middle of humming a Garth Brooks ballad.
    “Do you know what the average age of the terrorists who high-jacked the planes during 9/11 was? Twenty-four point six. Our enemy is getting younger. They are indoctrinated as teenagers over there. We need a new kind of soldier,” Hardy explained. “You are going to be living at our facility for the twelve months of the program. After you have completed your training, you will be deployed into active service… If you progress well, of course.”
    They rumbled down a back road and pulled up to an unlabeled, high-security gate. Hardy put the car in park and got out. He approached a scanner and flashed an access card, which opened the first gate.
    “No guards?” Xander asked.
    “If we had guards, they would have to know that we exist,” Hardy stated.
    The high gate opened, revealing a ramp that led them to a subterranean level. The Suburban descended into the underground tunnel. The tunnel was dimly lit with different metal doors on either side leading to what he could only imagine. They traveled down in a steady decline for some time, and it quickly became apparent to Xander that he would be living deep underground. He noticed a number of passages jutting off of the main tunnel.
    “There are a lot of tunnels here,” Xander said, wondering