Shadow Ops 3: Breach Zone Read Online Free PDF

ground isn’t going to make them less likely to harm you. It’s only going to make them more likely to see you as an enemy. Let us live among you. As equals. Distribute the drug. Change. The. Law.’
    Harlequin stared. It was all true, but that didn’t mean it would help. Harlequin had been in front of TV cameras non-stop since Britton had first escaped. Rants like that would frighten as many people as it convinced. In his heart, he wished Britton well. You do it your way, and I’ll do it my way. Let’s see who changes the world first.
    He closed his eyes, gave himself another minute of peace.
    The door at the far end of the room opened, closed. ‘Hey, Jan.’
    Harlequin opened his eyes to see the familiar face of Lieutenant Colonel Rick Allen, call sign Crucible.
    He felt the smile spread across his face. ‘Holy crap, Rick. What the hell are you doing here?’
    He gave Crucible a brief hug, then stepped back, still shaking his hand, grinning. ‘I haven’t seen you in forever!’
    He could see the urgency in Crucible’s face. The Pyromancer was deeply worried about something, but histrionics had never been his style, and Harlequin knew he’d get to whatever it was in his own time.
    Crucible forced a broad smile. ‘I see you all the time, Hollywood! You’re on TV every other day! Hell, I’m getting sick of your ugly mug.’
    Harlequin’s smile vanished. ‘Don’t call me that.’
    ‘Whoa.’ Crucible’s forced smile didn’t falter. ‘What? Ugly mug? I’m just kidding. You’re a very attractive man. If I weren’t happily married, I’d jump your bones right here.’
    ‘Hollywood. That’s what everyone calls me now. I’m fucking sick of it. They think I like being on TV.’
    ‘No shame in liking it. You’re good at it, and you’re helping. Slinging lightning isn’t the only thing Army Sorcerers do.’
    ‘What am I helping, Rick? Tell me how this helps anything.’
    Crucible was quiet for a moment. ‘Sorry, Jan. I really was just kidding about the Hollywood thing.’
    ‘I know,’ Harlequin said. ‘What’s going on? This isn’t a social call.’
    Crucible creased his mouth into a thin line and took a deep breath.
    ‘How are you doing?’ he finally asked.
    ‘I’m okay,’ Harlequin said. ‘I’m sorry to be so pissy. I’m just getting tired of being a poster boy for a revolution I don’t want. I did what I had to do to save the FOB, but I don’t want the whole system to come down. Magic still needs to be controlled. Let Oscar Britton carry that torch . . . wherever the hell he is.’
    Crucible waved a hand. ‘Nobody is going to mess with him now. He’s way too popular. If you think you’re a folk hero . . . That guy is . . .’
    ‘Hollywood,’ Harlequin finished for him. ‘Rick. You’re practically crawling out of your own skin. What’s the problem?’
    Crucible reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. ‘There’s trouble in New York City. They want you to head out there and lock it down.’
    ‘What kind of trouble?’ Harlequin worked to keep the excitement out of his voice.
    Crucible held up his smartphone. ‘A cop took this on Wall Street this morning.’ He thumbed through some photographs before settling on a video clip stopped on the frozen image of the cobblestone street that ran past Federal Hall, the giant columns rising out of the broad stone steps like some giant’s gap-toothed smile. The street was crowded with people, mostly in suits and ties, lacking the cameras and maps that would have marked them as tourists. Lunchtime then, the bankers, analysts, and computer geeks who made the country’s financial system run heading out for a bite or a cigarette.
    Harlequin took the phone from Crucible, hovered his thumb over the PLAY button.
    ‘When you say “they” want me to lock it down . . .’ Harlequin began.
    ‘“They” is actually “he”,’ Crucible said. ‘President Porter. He asked for you personally.’
    ‘It’s got to be a