The Break (The Aesir Saga Book 1) Read Free

tribal war paint of a Maori warrior or a WWII fighter plane. Marcus had chosen a much more psychological approach than the other pilots. The Maiden was painted a flat grey, making it look almost like a statue. The standard face shield was upgraded with a metal hood, which obscured the face completely, giving the effect of looking into the void. Angelic wings were attached to the back, and the overall body was styled to look like plate armor being worn. All of these choices were purely cosmetic, but Marcus believed that if you wanted to hunt "gods" you needed to raise yourself to their level.
     
    “Let's not jump to conclusions," Williams said, bringing the conversation back to the news report. "We don’t know what it was.”
    “Come on boss,” Marcus said, taking the open chair from Williams’ desk. “You know nobody is going to do anything to a police car unless it’s one of those Aesir terrorist groups.”
 
    Williams closed his eyes. Marcus had a point, no local citizen would do anything that could draw this kind of attention to themselves, then there was the call in of the curfew breaker. Which means there was at least one other person there. What if this was all a setup?
    Williams opened his eyes and looked to Kyle. “What’s active up in that area?”
                                              Kyle was already typing away at his computer, knowing that Williams would be asking for more information. “Looks like we have almost nothing, but there have been attacks that were attributed to a local Spartan group. No information on how local though.”              
    The Agency frowned upon the “Spartan” code name the capture teams had given to the extremist Aesir. SI9 was unsure how they were able to sustain themselves, but knew that they took supplies and files from the NGC and Agency buildings they targeted. While their attacks did interrupt some functions, they were deemed strategic failures. Their last attempt ended with ten Aesir being apprehended, which left their known numbers greatly reduced.
    The Spartans main problem was their lack of leadership. Each splinter group fought on their own, picking their targets locally. This helped to keep them from being captured, but made their attacks seem random and inconsistent. Even with their abilities, they seemed to operate on a one man army mentality, often fighting when they should run. The term group was used loosely, with only a few known accounts of the Aesir operating together.
    “Alright, send some feelers out to the local PD, and reserve the safe house in Seattle. I’ll let the chief know we are taking this one, hopefully no one else has put two and two together. Marcus, get the suit prepped, I want it operational as soon as we touch down.”
    “Kyle, get the plane ready, we’re going to Washington.”

FOUR
     
                  Gabriel awoke the next morning as the sun crept across his bedroom.  Being the typical seventeen year old boy, his room was covered in pictures of different models dressed in bikinis or less. His computer desk was covered in empty soda cans and candy bar wrappers. Next to the desk was his TV stand, an older thirty-two inch flat screen sitting on top with two Xbox controllers resting in front. His dresser drawers were in various stages of openness, clothes sticking out from all sides. Pictures of his family, and of course Amber, sitting along the top. Next to his bed, on his nightstand sat the bane of his existence, the one thing that would keep him from being the lazy person he wanted to be, his alarm clock. It showed the current time of 7:59. 
    “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!”
              Gabriel rolled over, smacking the clock, staring at the time. “Not today, I quit.” He muttered to himself as he rolled back over. This was when the smell of burnt fabric jogged his memory to the events of last night. “Oh shit” Gabriel sat straight up in bed,