Soldier of Fortune: A Gideon Quinn Adventure (Fortune Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

Elvis echoed — and focused on the dark, wet ( Wet! ) airfield.
    Unless he really wanted to bunk on the tarmac (and he was pretty sure someone in the dock master’s office would take issue with that), he needed to get going.
    Which naturally brought him back around to the question of where to go?
    All he knew of Nike was it housed the Tactical Division and that Dani enjoyed their Shakespeare Circus.
    She'd promised to take him if they could get a long enough furlough, but that was long ago, and they'd never quite made it to the Circus.
    In the now, all he had was himself and Elvis and the few starbucks handed to each of the parolees as they debarked.
    Oh and questions. He had plenty of questions.
    Those questions had him, (for about the ten gazillionth time since the Ramushku raised anchor) chewing over Satsuke's intentions in setting him free. Not only free, but free in the same city that housed Jessup Rand, a man Gideon was not supposed to get within spitting distance of.
    Then (as he had the other ten gazillion times), Gideon reminded himself that Satsuke's intentions were none of his concern.
    For now, for the first time in a very long time, his intentions — and the actions which followed — were the only ones that mattered.
    All he needed to do was define said intentions, at the same time trying to adjust to living in a world with no guards, no Corps, no prospects, and no woman.
    Even as he thought this last, a woman stepped out from behind a stack of crates bearing the logo of Tenjin R&D.
    "Gideon Quinn," the woman said. "We've been waiting for you."
     
     
     

C HAPTER F IVE
     
    GIDEON TOOK IN the woman's clothing (merc-for-hire grey), the way her hand rested on the hilt of her sidearm (crysto-plas pistol, very high-end and, last time Gideon was in the world, prohibited for civilian use), and her stance (balanced, forward on the feet, ready for action).
    He was also forced to admit (later, and only to himself), he only registered the gun after he spent some quality milliseconds on her eyes (green) and face (deep, velvety brown, full lips, prominent cheekbones).
    It was just enough time to note that face was very attractive, despite its all-business expression. Or maybe because of it.
    "When you say 'we', are you suggesting what I really hope you're suggesting?"
    Even as he spoke, her partner appeared in Gideon's peripheral vision.
    He tallied the newcomer — male, 5'10", same grey clothing, same coloring, same eyes, similar facial structure, leaning more toward the angular and making him, in Gideon's estimation, her twin. Of greater interest was the live shock baton he held, similar to those used by Morton's guards.
    "Guess not," he answered his own question.
    "You'll come with us," the she-twin said.
    Gideon considered the statement. "Is that a request?"
    "No," the he-twin raised his ominously humming baton, "it's a fact."
    "Yeah," Gideon's shoulders slumped, "I was afraid of that."
    Then he moved , ducking left while Elvis leaped right, and it didn't matter the he-twin was already in motion. It didn't matter his sister was drawing her weapon. What mattered was they'd initiated their assault under the assumption that two armed and fit mercs against one underfed and unarmed ex-con meant easy.
    It was an assumption that proved false.
    It was also a very short fight.
    Not even a fight, more an encounter — an encounter Gideon controlled the moment the brother lunged with that baton, giving Gideon the chance to take hold of the other man’s extended wrist.
    A catch, a twist, a push in just the right spot, and the he-twin's harsh bellow confirmed his elbow was in a world of pain.
    The baton dropped, sparking, to the tarmac. Elvis swooped down to claim the weapon in his fore-claws, flapping off with it while Gideon swung its owner around to block the she-twin's shot.
    Lucky for her brother she pulled the gun to one side in time for the shot to go high and wide, crackling in open air and unnerving a pigeon roosting