Alliance Flight Paths Classic Novels & Stories

Riding against the wind, Alpha Cameron portrayed his observation. The heavy downpour of the rain did not deter the blood alpha from grinning. His eyes followed the bolts of lightning as thunderclaps continued to ensue. “Then let us kill some orc mutt right now.” The three pierced through the enemy’s flank as flames of the Alliance troops followed their assault as if they were acting as their guide. On the rear of the fire-breathing griffins, the roaring gray-feathered griffins of the Alliance followed with the deltas sweeping the disoriented phantoms that were exposed from the flames.

Mac, a stoic silhouette against the grey dawn, handed them two slim, black diplomatic passports and two separate, first-class tickets on commercial airlines to Geneva. “Separate carriers, separate routes,” Mac grunted, his eyes scanning the misty runway. “You,” he nodded at Sabe, “are on the 10:05 Swiss Air flight via Zurich. You,” his gaze shifted to Anton, “are on the 11:20 Air France direct. Less pattern, less risk. If one flight gets grounded, the other might make it.”

Month eight hit hard. Jasmina woke exhausted. Moved slowly. Everything hurt. Back. Hips. Legs. Feet swollen. Breathing difficult with the baby pressing on her lungs. "You need to rest more," Damoew said. "Can't. Too much to do." "Delegate. That's why you have advisors." "I'm trying. But some things only Alpha can handle." Morning council was torture. Sitting hurt. Standing hurt. Everything hurt. Jetstar reported. "Alliance responses are coming in. Oakwood, Pinewood, and Clearwater will stand with us if war comes. Riverside and Shadowpine are hesitating. Eastern Vale is still deciding."

Luca murmurs, glancing over at Jacks. “Yup,” Jackson says, glancing back. “It’s a little like the all-or-nothing plan you came up with when we read that first map together, Luc. The more conservative path we were taking before wasn’t working either. This war is ending within the next few months either way. So, Moon Valley is going all out.” “Shit,” Luca murmurs, shaking his head and turning back towards the skies. I feel precisely the same, swallowing through the thick lump in my throat. Then my eyes go wide as I see aircraft begin to move from the Atalaxian side as well, lifting into the air and beginning to engage the aerial assault – and then to move beyond it.