Read Online Battle Earth VII by Nick S. Thomas - Free Book Online

know you have done more than your fair share for the Corps and for the World. Why not leave? We did, and look at what we have. When we were huddled away at night, scared and expecting to meet our deaths at any moment, having to risk our lives every second of every day, this here is the life we dreamed of."
    It was a compelling argument. General White had made him feel that without the Corps he would have nothing, but Jones made a lot of sense. One last issue bothered him, though.
    "And when the next war comes, what then?"
    "The next generation will fight it. None of us are immortal. We have done our part."
    "So you would do that? If another attack came tomorrow, you would sit by and watch?"
    Jones had to think about it for a moment.
    "I would do whatever I had to do, but right now, we have earned this peace, and we are going to enjoy every second we get."
    Taylor nodded in agreement.
    "So you really didn't come here to recruit me into some scheme?"
    Taylor shook his head, "Can't a guy just come for a chat?"
    "I guess, just didn't see you as the type."
    "Yeah, thanks."
    "So you're going to keep fighting in these ridiculous displays?"
    "I don't know. I don't want to. I shouldn't have to. But if I don't, I'll be outta the Corps before you know it."
    "I don't think they could get rid of the famous Colonel Mitch Taylor so easily. But even if they could, so what?"
    It gave him something to think about.
    "When the World goes to shit and you really need me, you give me a call. Until then, I suggest you kick back and enjoy this life we earned for ourselves."
    Taylor couldn't help but feel they were intruding on the life the two of them had made together. He finished his beer quickly and got up to leave.
    "Great to see you again, Charlie."
    He didn't seem disappointed they were leaving.
    "Good luck in whatever you do, Mitch. Just know that you have done enough. It’s time you started living for yourself."
    Taylor got back to the car and slumped in the back with Jafar. He could not help but feel disappointed. 2nd Inter-Allied, the great Immortals, seemed to be nothing more than a fading memory.
    "Is that the life you look forward to?" Jafar asked.
    Taylor shrugged. "No idea, why, you got any thoughts?"
    "I was not born a farmer," he quickly replied.
    It was all Taylor needed to know.
    They once more soared across the countryside on their return to Paris. As they rolled up outside the stadium, Weaver came rushing out in a flap.
    "Where the hell have you been?" he insisted before Taylor had even got both feet out the door.
    Mitch glared back at him.
    "I may fight for you, but you don't own me."
    "What? There are press conferences to do. Audiences are desperate to hear from their champion, and we have new fights to prepare for."
    The comment seemed to have gone over his head, or he chose to ignore it.
    "One week. One week, that is all we have before your next display. Young men and women are queuing at the recruitment offices trying to join up, and we have sponsors throwing money at us. This could be the greatest boost to the Corps in decades and is exactly what was needed."
    "Great," he replied, uninterested.
    Weaver chose to ignore that also.
    "Come on, I have interviewers waiting to talk with you. Let's get you inside." He looked over to Jafar, "You can head back to the Deveron and await further orders."
    "No," Taylor shouted.
    "No? What do you mean, no?" asked Weaver.
    "I mean exactly that. I've done everything you asked of me, but the big guy stays with me."
    He could see Weaver didn't like it, but it was hard to say no before dozens of public and reporters who had spotted them and were already approaching.
    "All right, all right, let's go."
    One week before another fight? Boxers get how many months before theirs?
    The next week was filled with seemingly endless TV interviewers asking him the same questions in different ways and expecting him to be as enthusiastic as they were. The endless cameras and idiotic questions that pandered