Vikings battle Zeppelins while forbidden desires spark! (Swords Versus Tanks Book 2) Read Free

bored Post Office Security Worker checked his papers, he counted the heraldic nails that studded the planks of the great doors. He could have cheated by counting down the sides and multiplying, but instead, he enumerated each nail head. It was like a crash-course in heraldry – no two bore the same beast. He caught himself smiling. I must get a picture of this for Rosetta.
    By the time the Security Workers swung one door open just enough for him to squeeze through, Tom was calm and ready to work.
    With its shutters closed against the autumn cold, and a huge fire burning in the monumental fireplace, the entrance hall of the Royal Apartments was as hot and dark as the inside of the tank that time he and Marcel had… ah well. At least he had some good memories.
    "Tom Fenland!" A one-armed man with an eye-patch broke away from the group of Post Office Workers — mostly Integration and Security — lounging by the fire.
    Tom halted. No. It couldn’t be.
    "Such a privilege! Marcel told me so much about you." Smith offered his left hand. "And now I’ve joined Integration, I find that it is all true."
    As they shook hands, Tom checked the man’s name badge. " Integration Worker Smith," he said, savouring the name and new role. This was the man who’d tried to have Jasmine shot. Was he insane to think a smile and a handshake would make everything OK? "Marcel had a lot to say about you too."
    Smith smiled. His remaining eye flickered nervously. "All good I hope?"
    "Oh, you know Marcel!" said Tom with false heartiness. He didn’t lie anymore, not since leaving the streets. But that didn’t mean he went about making enemies either. "Pardon me, but weren’t you Colonel of the Experimental Tank Brigade?"
    "My work is done in that role-" said Smith offhandedly.
    Voted out by the survivors of the attack on Kinghaven, more like, thought Tom.
    "You see," said Smith. "The Experimental Tank Brigade has now been cleansed of Crypto-Elitist hegemons." He shrugged. "What's left for me to do?"
    Tom felt his limbs quiver and realised it was rage. It would be horribly easy to just draw his Regulation Sidearm and shoot the little man. He asked sweetly, "You mean former members of the Veterans Alliance like Marcel?"
    "Let’s not get into naming names. After all…" said Smith, hurriedly. He gave him his best open smile. "…there’s a war on, isn’t there?"
    "So," asked Tom. "What brings you to Integration?
    "His new career." Postmaster General Hamilton rose from a high-backed chair and the room filled with his presence.
    Tom took an involuntary step back. "Esteemed Colleague," he stammered, glad that he’d not said anything stupid in the hearing of such a great man.
    Hamilton proffered a hip flask. "Drink with us!"
    Tom took the container in shaking hands and swigged. He had to fight not to gag. Then the alcohol hammered through his brain. "Interesting," he managed and handed it on to Smith.
    Hamilton smiled warmly. "Good Workers’ moonshine." His expression saddened. "I was sorry to hear about your partner." He ushered Tom to a fireside bench.
    Tom struggled for words. Had Hamilton taken an interest in him? Or did the Postmaster General really follow the lives of all those he oversaw? Had Hamilton also known about the violent tendencies of Brown’s team? A queasy thought, that: if Tom had got word to him, there would have been no need for… the incident with the tank and the mass grave.
    "Smith says Marcel was a hero," continued Hamilton.
    Well he would, wouldn’t he? thought Tom.
    The other Post Office Workers made their excuses and staggered off to their billets. Smith sat next to Tom, close enough to make the skin crawl despite the heat from the fire.
    Hamilton returned to his chair and took a swig from the flask. He sighed. "So nice to be able to get together like this, just three workers setting this new world aright."
    "Yes," said Tom, aware of how breathy his voice sounded. How could he relax with the David Hamilton, Hero of the