StarCraft II: Devils' Due

StarCraft II: Devils' Due Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: StarCraft II: Devils' Due Read Online Free PDF
Author: Christie Golden
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Media Tie-In, Games, Video & Electronic
before beginning his speech.
    The man in the window of the building kitty-corner to
    the senate building knew Tarsonis City wel . He had
    lived there until his late teens, viewing the city from a
    private terrace of a sixty-three-room mansion.
    His name had once been Ark Bennet, son of Errol
    Bennet, of the Old Family Bennets, and he knew the
    man who was currently in his sights had dinner with
    him, played with his two sons. But the man in the
    window, who blinked steadily, regulated his breathing
    and practical y his heartbeat as his world slowed
    down, was no longer that privileged, impossibly
    sheltered young man.
    As a teenager, straining against the constrictions
    placed on him by the circumstances of his birth, he
    had slipped out while attending a conference with his
    father in the Hal of Reason. Wandering less than a
    mile from the safety of the university, Ark Bennet,
    scion of one of the Old Families, had been
    approached by an attractive young woman, drugged,
    and abducted, and had wound up conscripted into the
    military. At first, he had been frantic to alert his father
    about his situation. He had filed forms and affidavits
    again and again. It seemed to have no effect.
    And then something happened. He found
    something he was good at—very, very good at.
    Kil ing.
    Ark had been the son of wealth and privilege, but
    there had always been something lacking in his life: a
    purpose, a direction. Something he could contribute.
    And in the military, this almost uncanny gift he had—
    he had heard it termed “the X factor,” an ability to
    seemingly slow the passage of time as he took his
    shots—had
    helped
    win
    battles.
    Even
    more
    importantly, it had saved the lives of friends.
    Ironical y, it was when he had ceased to worry or
    wonder if he would ever have a chance to go home
    that two men from the Military Security Service had
    arrived. He had lied at first, saying that he had faked
    the claim about his true self. But they had confronted
    him with irrefutable proof as to his identity. It was then
    that he had pleaded with them—tried to explain as
    best he could what his new identity, his new role in the
    world and his ability to protect people he now thought
    of as family, meant to him. And they had understood,
    and at that moment Ark Bennet was dead, and Ryk
    Kydd was permitted to live on.
    But things had happened. Bad things—things that
    shouldn’t have happened. Some friends—many—had
    died, and he had parted ways with those who
    survived. Ryk Kydd was, and would always be, a
    sniper par excel ence. Except now he wasn’t doing it
    for the military: he was doing it for himself. He had
    become a hired kil er. There was no noble cause now,
    just the cold action of pointing the rifle, squeezing the
    trigger, and col ecting his pay.
    Although he had once known the man lined up in his
    sights, Kydd felt nothing for him one way or the other.
    He didn’t care about MacMasters’s politics, or his
    family, or the ramifications of the action about to
    occur. Al he cared about was doing this thing he was
    so good at, using the gift some hel ish angel had
    blessed him with.
    “Fel ow Confederates, I cannot tel you what joy it
    brings me to see so many of you turned out here
    tonight.”
    Gently, like a lover caressing the object of his
    desire, Kydd placed his finger on the trigger. There
    was no computerized helmet to help him gauge the
    temperature, humidity, altitude, and barometric
    pressure. There were only slight modifications to the
    scope of the rifle itself. He had surpassed the need
    for most of that, experience and instinct coming
    together in a duet of death.
    Careful y, Ryk started to squeeze the trigger.
    “Not the best idea.”
    At once Kydd spun around, but the intruder was too
    fast. There was a blur of motion, a swirl of a long coat,
    and a kick too swift to see, and Kydd’s rifle went flying
    out of his hands and clattered on the floor. Even as he
    lost his grip on it, Kydd was
Read Online Free Pdf

Similar Books

Day Out of Days

Sam Shepard

The Devil's Own Rag Doll

Mitchell Bartoy

The Fugitive

Massimo Carlotto, Anthony Shugaar

Chasing Boys

Karen Tayleur

Yield

Cyndi Goodgame

Fly Away Home

Jennifer Weiner