Avatar Colonel Miles Quaritch Novels & Stories

The midnight sky over the metropolis was completely shattered by the deafening roar of a dozen heavily armored, unmarked black SUVs. Lucian Sterling sat in the lead vehicle, his massive, heavily muscled frame completely rigid. His ruined, blood stained white shirt clung to his broad chest, a terrifying, visual reminder of the dying Queen he had left behind in the intensive care unit. His pitch black eyes were entirely dilated, consumed by a feral, apocalyptic hellfire. He was no longer a corporate CEO. He was a deeply desperate, heartbroken husband going to war.

Flesh and blood. A squad of figures emerged from the gloom. They wore sleek, silver tactical armor that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie, not a rusty basement. Their helmets were faceless, smooth domes. And leading them was a man who wasn't wearing a helmet. He was tall, pale, with hair as white as bone. Half his face was covered by a metallic mask that glowed with a soft red light. "Valerius," Jack growled. The name tasted like bile. The man who had supposedly died in the helicopter crash over the A****n. The man who had hunted them across three continents.

It was true, we are all part human. “I am not asking you to be Superman or Batman or Ironman. I am not asking you to be Wonder Woman or Batwoman, or even Gamora. If you are in trouble, please, PLEASE, call for help! With everybody here and all the variety of skillsets, I have faith in us. Now who’s ready to show these fuckers who their fuckin with?!” I was answered by the loud cheers and howls from the warriors and I felt a smile pulling at my lips. “Alpha’s join your warriors.” I turned to them and said and they all shook my hand and headed to the front of each of their packs.

Miles Thorne eldest brother of William Thorne, a man who was supposed to have been in exile or dead in the family power struggle ten years ago stood there in all his elegance. "Mavric thinks his enemy is Marcus Vane," Miles stepped into the room, ignoring Liora’s weapon. "But Marcus was just a pet dog I lent to Omni-Tech.” “He did his job well to lure Mavric out to sea." "You planned all of this..." Liora tried to squeeze the trigger, but her fingers felt numb. "Don’t bother, Liora," Miles pointed to a small device in his hand. "I’m holding a frequency transmitter that can disable your Master Key’s neural signals from close range.”

I said, reaching up to touch the dark circles under his eyes. "I was running drills with Echo Squad," he said. "The new stealth armor from the lab is... finicky. The seals leak if you submerge past twenty feet." "Did you fix it?" "Mara fixed it. I just broke it in the first place to find the flaw." He offered a small, crooked smile, the first one I’d seen in days. "We're ready, Elara. The Legion is ready." I looked out the reinforced glass of the bridge. Outside, the Ghost Isle was living up to its name. A wall of fog churned against the atmospheric shield we had erected. Inside the shield, it was dry, illuminated by the harsh industrial floodlights of the base.

Her retinas were no longer just organic tissue, they were high-resolution displays, and as she tried to sit up, a sharp, electric tingle shot down her spine, pinning her back against a surface that felt like cold, polished obsidian. "Don't fight the synchronization, Verina, your nervous system is currently remapping itself to the Vault’s mainframe," a voice echoed through the room, it was smooth, ageless, and held the terrifying weight of a man who owned entire nations. She turned her head, her vision lagging slightly as the green code scrolled across her periphery, and saw him. He was standing behind a reinforced glass partition, a man in a charcoal suit so sharp it looked like a blade, his

​​PNEUMATIC THERMAL JACKET: DISENGAGED. ​​VANGUARD_COMMANDER_01: ONLINE. ​The reinforced glass face of the pod didn't just slide open; it unsealed with a massive, booming release of pressurized cryogenic vapor that blanked out the room in a thick, white cloud of frost. ​Through the freezing mist, a massive silhouette—even broader and more heavily scarred than Julian's—slowly shifted inside the metal harness. Long, silver-streaked hair fell over a pair of massive shoulders that were wrapped in a pre-war, dark navy vanguard uniform, the chest plate covered in heavy, tarnished silver medals of a forgotten empire.

~RAVENNA~ I got up from my seat instantly, my heart racing. Just when I thought I escaped this problem, he showed up again. Julia quickly pulled me behind her. “Gamma Miles,” she greeted with a slight bow. I frowned at her. Wasn’t he removed from his position, why was she being too respectful? Gamma Miles looked her over, a dark smile on his face. “Seems you haven’t forgotten your place after all,” he said with so much arrogance that almost got me rolling my eyes.

Miles turned in a circle, peering down each street, looking for a man in a blue coat. It was believed Valentino was a white male, stocky build. But the bit of face Miles had seen was too tan to be Caucasian. Unless the hacker had a sudden tendency to tan. Shit. Valentino had gotten away. "What the hell?" Miles muttered to himself. He lifted the radio. "I want the undercover officers to report to the van immediately." He turned and began striding back to where he'd left Diha. They'd had Valentino. He'd been there. So what the hell had happened in there?

For instance, Joel Quarters. The ingenious second young master of the Quarters family had been terrified the entire night. He had ordered his loyal subordinates to pay close attention to the movement of the Divine Constabulary of Michigan. He wanted to know the life and death of Alex and Phoebe as soon as possible. As long as Alex was still alive, there would still be room to mend the situation. The mad dog, Geronimo Melvis, would not go to the Quarters family to ‘bite’ people randomly.