Cmdr. Cameron Dennis Novels & Stories

But Lucy had possibilities. The command and services company, which included the headquarters staff, medical personnel, and supply folks, was under the command of Captain Anderson Cara, a bookish-looking man, who seldom spoke or smiled. His file, which portrayed the legionnaire as efficient but not especially distinguished, had little more to say. A mystery wrapped in an enigma. Asset or liability? The next few months would tell.

The presentation rolled on for a few more minute and as she began rounding up, I picked my files and hurried out of the building. I stepped out of the elevator and met my driver already waiting by the car. “Keys, Ben.” I commanded. He looked shocked. “Sir, are you sure?” I gave him a cold look and he quickly dug in his pocket and tossed me keys. It’s been a while since I’ve driven, but I had to find Petra on my own. Most of my workers are loyal to Mr. Coopinger and I don't trust them around me. I hopped in the black Land Rover. Taking a deep, refreshing breath, I turned the car on and adjusted the seat to fit my frame.

Standing up, he turned to Dennis. "Are you the one who helped her?" Hunter asked. "I am. And who are you?" Dennis questioned, his tone sharp. "You did good," Hunter replied, patting Dennis on the shoulder before walking past him toward the police officers. Dennis stood there, stunned, watching Hunter with a mixture of awe and confusion. There was something commanding and authoritative about the man, an overwhelming presence that made Dennis feel small in comparison. When Dennis looked into Hunter's eyes—those piercing grayish eyes—he felt a chill run down his spine. There was something undeniably different about Hunter. He wasn’t just an ordinary soldier.

“And if I burn my name in the process — at least I’ll burn it for something real.” Sophie closed the letter and smiled. Just a little. The Phoenix HQ lights flickered as Camellia finished the trace. She stared at the results on the terminal screen — blinking, reluctant, disbelieving. The system logs, IP trail, clearance level, the proxy reroutes… it all pointed to one person. Someone she trusted. Someone Sophie trusted. Someone who had been there since Mary’s final months. Camellia’s throat went dry as she whispered the name. Damon was a former Phoenix cyber-ops lead. Recruited early, trained by Mary herself. Sharp, quiet, and loyal — or so they’d believed.

Kelvin muttered in displeasure, "How troublesome." "Sorry, sir. This is the rule." Cameron helped Ethan to carry his chips. Ethan played with his wedding ring casually. "Are you sure that there are no surveillance cameras here? I don't want my grandfather to get his hand on any leaked footage." "Rest assured, sir. May I know your name?" "Craig Sallow." "What an unusual surname. You don't sound local." "Are you trying to pry into my background?" "No, no, no. It's because it's my first time seeing you." Cameron chuckled. "Where do you normally frequent?"

she said. I said nothing. Which was answer enough. Darius was quiet at lunch, the focused kind of quiet. The kind that meant something was running underneath that he hadn't surfaced yet. I waited until we were alone afterward. "Say it," I said. He looked at me. "Rael contacted Caden this morning," he said carefully. The missing commander. "What did he say?" I asked. "That he wants to meet," Darius said. "With Caden, and with you."

Once the soldier guarding the entrance saw that he was covered in blood, he pointed his gun at him and shouted, "Who are you? Why are you here?" The young man quickly put his hand on his head and shouted with a fearful expression, "Sir, my name is Cameron Murrow. I want to meet General Lynch! I have an emergency, and I need to see him!" The soldiers on patrol inside the garrison heard Cameron's voice and came over. Then, they put Cameron's hand behind his back and made him kneel on the ground.

"It's a mess. They're all a bunch of opportunistic thieves." "How much?" Nathan asked. "600 billion dollars each," Cameron responded. Nathan sighed in resignation, furrowing his brow as he leaned back on the sofa, noticing Suzanne's earnest attempt to comprehend the situation. He gently clasped her hand, his tone soft and reassuring. "Cameron is a director at the Department of Defense Procurement. He's been negotiating for the past six months on the acquisition of advanced combat aircraft overseas."

There was no hesitation on the other end. “Yes, Master. What can I do for you?” Dennis leaned back in his seat. “Something simple.” His tone turned colder. “I want Tyler McCart dead.” The cabin remained silent for a moment as the words settled. “He thinks he can control the oil market,” Dennis continued. “He thinks he can dictate what happens next.” Dennis’s fingers tightened around the phone. “He ran his mouth one too many times.” The memory of Tyler slapping him across the face burned in his mind.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his breathing rapid as he curled in on himself. “Damn it.” A tiny blue light flashed across the communicator. I froze. Then another blink. Signal. I yanked up my wrist and tapped it. Static burst through the speaker. “Can... hear...?” “Yes!” I nearly shouted. “Yes, I can hear you!” The interference crackled for another second before a composed female voice came through. “Molly here, how can I help you?” Relief crashed over me. “This is Crown Prince Theodore Eamon of Avindel. Authorization code AE-1174. Connect me to the military command immediately.”