By Marko Kloos
The alien forces referred to as the Lankies are amassing at the sunlight system's aspect, consolidating their conquest of Mars and atmosphere their points of interest on the earth. The far away colony of recent Svalbard, bring to an end from the remainder of the galaxy via the Lanky blockade, teeters at the verge of hunger and cave in. The forces of the 2 Earth alliances have received minor skirmishes yet are at risk of wasting the warfare. For battle-weary employees sergeant Andrew Grayson and the ragged forces of the North American Commonwealth, the struggle for survival is getting into a catastrophic new phase.
Forging an uneasy alliance with their Sino-Russian enemies, the NAC launches a hybrid activity strength on a protracted shot: a stealth undertaking to breach the Lanky blockade and reestablish provide traces with Earth. Plunging into wrestle opposed to a cruel alien species that outguns, outmaneuvers, and outfights them at each flip, Andrew and his fellow soldiers may perhaps turn out cornered on their domestic turf, with out approach out and no desire for reinforcement. And this time, the fight for humanity's destiny can basically lead to both victory or annihilation.
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Additional resources for Angles of Attack (Frontlines, Book 3)
You and your magnetism. Your charm. You could get any girl in the world into that big brass bed with you. ” “God,” he said with disgust. “That again. Always the same old gripes. ” Turning to face him, Heather said earnestly, “You know how you look, even now at the age you are. You’re beautiful. Thirty million people ogle you an hour a week. ” “The same can be said for you,” he said caustically. He felt tired and he yearned for the privacy and seclusion that lay there on the outskirts of Zürich, silently waiting for the two of them to come back once more.
Like, Jason thought, a mechanical heart. A heart that beat for him alone, for him the star. Well, by extension, it throbbed in response to the needs of Heather, too. She deserved it: she had sung well, tonight. Almost as well as—Jason grinned inwardly, to himself. Hell, let’s face it, he thought. They don’t turn on all those 3-D color TV sets to see the special guest star. There are a thousand special guest stars scattered over the surface of earth, and a few in the Martian colonies. They turn on, he thought, to see me.
Jesus, he thought. And that’s all that stands between me and a forced-labor camp. “Okay,” he said, then. It seemed the wiser choice—by far. “Go pay Eddy,” she said. ” “I wondered why he’s still hanging around,” Jason said. ” “I guess so,” Kathy said. “You do this all the time,” Jason said as he got out his money. SOP: standard operating procedure. And he had tumbled for it. ” 4 Two city blocks away, upstairs in an unpainted but once white wooden building, Kathy had a single room with a hot-compart in which to fix one-person meals.