Doomsday Warrior 02 - Red America - Plot & Excerpts
Sometimes it seemed that every moment of his life since he had been eight years old, and had fled from the Russian soldiers who had massacred his family, had been filled with fighting and death. He should feel wonderful that the particle beam weapons had performed so successfully, yet he couldn’t get the images of so much destruction out of his mind. Never in his thirty-four years of life had he ever doubted himself or his mission to rid America of her enslavers. And it wasn’t that he questioned the need to chase the Reds all the way home to Moscow. It was just that he held the power of the gods in his hands for a few moments and it scared him. He wasn’t a god—just a man. Perhaps the toughest man on earth but still, a man, mortal, imperfect. He wasn’t used to self-doubt, or self-analysis, and it felt peculiar, not particularly pleasant. He punched out a code on the computer panel next to the body-contoured plastibed and a small bar slid out from a wall enclosure.
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