War Machine Mark 5 Novels & Stories

Local time, 8:30 PM. Deep beneath the barren desert, the Bertley military base loomed like an iron fortress. Umbracia's four-star General Hesberg, clad in his sharp uniform, stared at the battle screen with a grim look. The latest report showed a devastating defeat: the Giant Whale's Fury tactic had failed, both Lords of War outmaneuvered, and the entire carrier fleet rendered useless. Alexander, an unstoppable force, was still carving his path into Umbracia.

Gale-force winds and torrential rain battered the flight deck, but inside the drop bay, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Three mechs stood at the edge of the open bay doors. Two were the new Mark VII "Vanguard" Twin Mechs, their sleek, aerodynamic chassis pulsing with a ghostly cyan nanolaminate glow. Behind them stood Jack in his heavily upgraded Mark VI Defender mech, looking like a walking fortress.

But unfortunately the weapons never arrived to Pack Redmoon because they now belonged to Stephen. "Beta, what are we going to do after this?" asked one of Mark's men. "As per our Alpha's orders, he wants this place blown up and we can destroy this place in one blast," said Mark who smiled wickedly. All the workers in the industrial plant looked faint and helpless as Mark's army had defeated this mortal man. "But sir, wouldn't this place burn the city to the ground if it were blown up? There are all kinds of weapons here, and these weapons could explode and destroy civilization?" asked someone who annoyed Mark.

in front of a mere computer. And as expected, the door was unlocked easily after saying the password. Mark couldn't help but shiver in disgust of how he said those words. He is very loyal to the Mirage System and treated it as the highest government in the world. To him, it's like his own kind of religion that no one can understand. After unlocking the heavy door, he immediately brought his gun with him and aimed from side to side, making sure that the coast is clear. After clearing the area, he turned on his earpiece once more. "All clear..." he declared.

Stephanos slipped inside, keeping low, a mouse that knew the hawks by name. To the left, soldiers stripped and cleaned rifles, stacked ammunition in patient towers. A corporal cursed a jam in clipped Saxon syllables; a private answered with a joke that didn’t quite land. Tin cups steamed beside a drum of bitter coffee that had forgotten the word bean. At the chamber’s centre—raised on a crate like an altar—sat the machine. APG MARK I.

It was difficult to keep up with the back and forth radio traffic, the video feeds provided by squad and platoon leaders, the eye in the sky stuff beamed from unmanned drones, tiny robocrawlers and remote sensor packages stationed up to fifty miles out. That being the case, a technician named Motif had been assigned to assist Marco by switching appropriate images to the bank of three monitors located in front of his command-style chair. Not the same as a full-blown VR rig, but his enough. The initial stage of the attack had gone pretty much as Marco had expected it to. A wave of fighter bombers came first, followed by the surviving transports, and landing in force at Boi Vawa, Dahmer, Arta,

I said carefully, and the man’s olive-skinned face broke into an amused smile. “That’s funny, neither do I.” He whispered and the hard edge in his voice told me he wasn't a wolf to be messed with. I had heard tales of Markov the Slayer. A white-haired wolf with the power to wield silver swords and not take any damage himself. A feat that exhausted even the great Fedora. There was no doubt that we would need him out there on the field seeing as the elders had refused to give us more soldiers. “To war and bloodshed then,” My smile was full of teethstopping just short of my cold, hard eyes before I snatched a goblet from the outstretched tray of a servant, raising it in the air as the wolves su

I read the label etched along the barrel. Vargo's eyes widened, and without a word, he darted to the next crate. He tore it open like a child on Christmas morning. "A fucking M-16?" he laughed. "No...wait. This is an ARX-500 Helix. Holy shit." He cradled it with a strange kind of affection, popping out the mag, checking the chamber, sliding the parts with practiced hands. "This thing's been customized to hell. You could tear down a building with this."

I remember how amazed she looked as she stared out the window of my office, admiring the view. Mark's office was the complete polar opposite of mine. It was located centrally in the building, meaning that there were no city views. Not only that, but his walls were void of any emotion, not that my office had any either. But his were worse. He had floor-to-ceiling whiteboards used to keep track of all the marketing projects on the go. His office was also quite noisy since it was in the middle of the hub of the marketing department. It was like trying to work in the middle of an airport as opposed to in a secluded office space. I knew she had to be lying when she said she liked working there mo

Ace closed his eyes slightly and heaved a frustrated sigh when their car passed through the black iron gate which was guarded heavily by the military who wore red uniforms and had guns in their hands and pistols tucked in their belts. "We've arrived."Alexander notified him.He rolled his eyes upon hearing his Beta's words.Ace knew what he was trying to do. "I know, right,"Ace said and a heavy sigh escaped from his lips. He looked at him with a raised brow and a mischievous smile on his lips.