Death Orbit Read Free Page A

arisen. Not the old, cobbled-together, illusory freedom that politicians had bandied about in the years leading up to World War III—no, this was real freedom, real liberty, politician free. And it was not just for those who were fortunate enough to be born into the prosperous areas of the planet. This was worldwide freedom, individual driven, based on the concept that all men were created equal and therefore should be treated that way—might they sink or swim, do good or bad.
    This new concept was at the heart of the determination of Hunter and his allies of the United American Armed Forces. It had taken them four long years to rid the U.S. continent of those who had imposed an unequal peace at the cessation of hostilities of the last great war. Gone now for the most part were the left-wing terrorists, the far-right white supremacist armies, the Nazis, the Mid-Aks, the organized crime families, the air pirates, the greedy opportunists, the agents of disinformation and discord—all of them taken on and defeated by the United Americans, all of them now on the outside looking in.
    In the last year or so, the United Americans had found themselves fighting offshore, first on some of the very same Pacific islands where their great-grandfathers had fought during World War II, and then in the haunted jungles of Vietnam, where their grandfathers and fathers had also spilled blood.
    Now they were in outer space, doing the same thing.
    More than any other, it was Hawk Hunter who had led the forces of freedom in these campaigns, and it was he who was at the helm of this new expeditionary force. As with much of his life, times of great joy were frequently spliced into times of great peril. He loved flying in space—yet he was here to find and eliminate the world’s most dangerous criminal. He loved the freedom from gravity, the total unshackling of earth, yet he’d left behind two very personal entanglements. One was named Chloe. The other was named Dominique.
    It was perhaps not so ironic anymore that his relationship with Dominique had started in the cold, dark aftermath of World War III. He’d met her during his long, lonely march back across Europe once the fighting had ceased, staying with her in an abandoned farmhouse before moving on, eventually getting back to the States and having her walk back into his life again soon afterward. Beautiful, blond, erotic, and widely lusted after, they had been together ever since, unmarried and with no children, but bonded by real love and the passion of the times.
    Dominique was now at their farm on Cape Cod, the place called Skyfire, waiting, he supposed, as she always did, for him to finally return home for good. That had been Hunter’s dream, too: that all of the fighting and wars and intrigue would finally be over with and he could simply go home and be with the woman he loved.
    At least, that had been his dream before he’d met Chloe. This had happened barely a few months ago, while he was making his way through the Swiss Alps in search of a key tracking station being used by Viktor II and the orbiting Zon spacecraft. That Chloe was naked when he first set eyes on her, bathing in the frigid waters of an alpine lake near Saint Moritz, only increased the magnitude of the lightning bolt that struck him that day. The way she was, what she believed—it filled him up inside so much, he’d been tempted just to quit the whole hero business and settle down with her right then and there.
    But duty called and she became entangled and he wound up rescuing her from the clutches of Viktor’s minions and together they had tracked down the last possible landing site for the Zon, thus forcing the climactic battle which gave the United Americans a working space shuttle, but not the prize they were after, Viktor II himself.
    Now, for the first time in his life, Hunter was torn between two women, both beautiful, both smart, both patient. Both willing to be with him for the rest of their lives. And