Clone Trooper Hardcase Novels & Stories

Nicklaus said. "Not at all Mr. Klaus, there was a little trouble at the seas which delayed my supply but they're ready now". Hayato said. "Good". Hayato snapped and some of the guards left. They soon returned with several crates. Nicklaus opened the first one and took the pink AK47. "It looks cute". "Of course Mr. Nicklaus, this are new brands of rifles... You could check out the SCAR rifle too. Nicklaus closed the crate and opened the next one.

He might be better off with her. The crowd finally dispersed and Case nodded at me, sending me back into his office. I sat down again, noticing that the case was exactly where he had left it. Had Forty been successful? “I’d really like to get into that tablet, Forty-Two,” Case said firmly. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t remember anything about it?” “Pretty sure,” I said sheepishly. “I can try… do you want me to take it with me and see if I can get it unlocked?”

And in the locker were items for the bridge-crew should disaster loom. Trevor could picture the items now: life-jackets, rations, but his primary focus was the bright red flare pistol stowed in its equally vivid crimson case. Opposite, Barker’s glowing eyes began to move to his right, as the creature followed the run of the console. Trevor could hear the click-click of claws on the plastic surface, and the dull thud of the huge leather chairs rocking as he passed by. Barker sidled around the console, and Trevor moved away from him, using his feet to push his way towards the gloom, where he knew the storage locker sat, flush with the walls, its steel door reflecting Barker’s hideous stare.

As soon as Alice heard more information about their dad’s plan, she would tell everything to Alena. “He actually made a shortlist and at the top of the list is someone named Tristan Jake Woods. They call him TJ. Seems like a good man but scarred. Literally. He’d been in a vehicular accident right out of college. He’s got some issues with women, apparently. Gold diggers, the usual. And his scars seem to cause him a certain level of insecurity. Other than that, he’s quite the successful businessman. Almost at par with the likes of Christan Taylor.” Alice rattled off from her notes.

Joshua walks to his room, removing his two semi-automatic 9mm colts; Tiffany follows him to the room, “Joshua, you are not going out there. Joshua puts the gun in the back of his jeans and covers it with his vest. They hear the fence opening; Tiffany walks over to the window. It is Winter; she is hysterical. She is banging on the door as the HL enters the yard, three mid-thirties guy tattoos on their arms and legs, holdings knives. “Help me.” Tiffany rushes to open the door as the hard-living thugs run over to the door to hold it open; Tiffany manages to close it just in time.

“Impressive. What about the electronics?” Nico grinned. “EMP shielding, night-vision cams, and a biometric safe in the trunk. Next up, the Toyota Land Cruiser 300: twin-turbo V6, 409 hp, lighter armor for agility, hits 130 mph, perfect for off-road escapes. B6 protection, blast-resistant undercarriage.” Dante and I circulated, his arm never leaving my waist, pulling me close as we approached a cluster of clients. “Señor Rossi,” Dante greeted a Milanese arms dealer, his tone warm but edged. “See anything you like?”

The subterranean Vault beneath the Scrapyard finally felt like a home, albeit a heavily militarized one. Kara had transformed the back wall into a technological marvel. Using the server racks gutted from the Mobile Command Center, she had expanded their Hardline rig into a localized supercomputer. The ambient temperature in the room had risen ten degrees just from the heat of the processors. Leo was sitting on a heavy steel crate, meticulously cleaning the mechanisms of his newly acquired Juggernaut armor. The matte-black plating was thick enough to stop a 50-caliber round, and it featured an integrated exoskeleton that amplified his already prodigious strength. He looked at his reflection i

Not only was she the most gorgeous girl on the planet, but Casey represented everything I stood for. After grabbing everything we needed from the cellar and under the trailer, I gave Squirt and Munchkin hugs goodbye. We rode toward Brooks High in Casey's little Civic. Yeah, it was a tight ass fit, but her car was the quietest. If we were planning on pulling one over on these assholes, we had to use our heads and be quiet about it. Lucky for us, Casey was smart enough to suggest hiding a bunch of our stuff and our lot of weapons under the trailer, which pushed us to make the secret access hole just in case we needed to hide.

He looked like a mechanic in a war zone. He stepped back, wiping his hands on his trousers. He didn't go for the passenger seat. He walked to the trunk, his boots steady on the uneven ground. "We're leaving the truck," Joshua said. He reached into his medic bag, but he didn't pull out bandages or sedatives. He pulled a concealed floorboard back, revealing a rugged, black survival kit. It was vacuum-sealed, marked with a non-pack serial number. Richard watched him, his eyes Narrowing. "Where did you get that? That's rogue-spec gear. That’s not Harrington issue."

The other officer chuckled and led the way. It took the better part of fifteen minutes for the cyborg to lead the biological bodies through a maze of tunnels, past a pile of recently excavated dirt, and into a man made cavern. It was cool, dry, and stank oh ozone. Floodlights had been rigged, and Marco was amazed by what he saw. The vault contained hundreds of shrink wrapped Trooper II bodies, and farther out, barely visible through the murk, huge, hulking quads, their weapons encased in spray foam, their armor covered by a thick layer of dust.