Read Online The Black Ships by A.G. Claymore - Free Book Online

anything in human history,” he spoke calmly. “I
have a staff of military experts, I have the theorists at DARPA and my job is
simple: make their job possible and then get out of their way.” He leaned back
in his chair. “If you plan to jeopardize our way of life for some minor political
gains, then my job is to get you out of the way.”
    Bob’s gaze met the president’s and locked.
“Mr. President, exactly what kind of threat are you making?” His eyebrows
lowered a fraction. “You’re hardly in a position to make threats or had you
forgotten who holds the majority in Congress?”
    Parnell held Cochrane’s gaze as he
responded. “There can be no doubt that we need to build this fleet. There can
be no doubt that we need to answer the threat.” He draped his arms casually on
the chair, forcing a relaxed pose. “There is no telling whether a similar enemy
fleet is on their way here right now. We can’t afford a single moment of delay
in developing our military capabilities and that is something the American
public can easily identify with. If you think you can stop us and take the
reins, keep in mind that I still have another year to serve and the chances are
good that we’ll be invaded by then.” He smiled wolfishly. “Do you think the
people will think it’s worth the risk? If you hold up this bill, I’ll personally
nail your ass to the barn door in front of the press.”
    Cochrane looked uneasy, plainly inclined to
wring every ounce of political leverage he could from this meeting and yet
convinced that the bill was necessary. “It’s going to be a hard sell,” he said
grudgingly. “Even for the twelve measly votes you need me to deliver.”
    Parnell hid his surprise. So he knows we
already have Gillibrand and Murkowski. “For the love of God, Bob, it’s not
all doom and gloom. We’ll be providing the airship technology that makes it all
possible – that should take a huge chunk of the eight Trillion and keep it
right here.” He raised an eyebrow as he leaned in. “The commercial spinoffs of
a thousand-ton fast freighter alone could give our economy the jumpstart it’s
been needing. Let’s not forget about how much this will accelerate our
fledgling extra planetary economy.
    “How about I make it easier?” Parnell was
acting on sudden inspiration but he knew it could work. “I’ll get Jack to set
up a press conference for this afternoon where we lay it  all out - the
cost, the impact on our economy of going solo, the advantages of going out to
fight in Mars orbit rather than waiting here.” He grinned. “You come with me
and we present this as a completely non-partisan plan. It’ll look good on you:
the congressman who put his fellow man ahead of politics.”
    Bob gave the tiniest of nods, his face
locked into a tight ghost of a smile; his constituency encompassed Moffett
Field  and all of its employees. “If you had asked me a month ago, I would
never have thought to be considering something like this. Hell, if you asked me
this morning, I would have said the same.” He looked over at the president.
“Let’s get this over with. I'll back you for now." He stood. "I'll
also be watching you. If you screw this up, I'll nail your ass to the
White House door and our fellow citizens will thank me for it.
     

The Freehold Taphouse
    Antioch, California
    January 26 th , 2026
    C allum McKinnon sat with his cronies at his usual table in the back
corner of the pub. He liked to keep the front door in sight and the kitchen
door was just five feet to his right. It wasn’t that he expected trouble but
his parents had drilled him in field craft since he was old enough to talk and
old habits died hard.
    Gary and Susan McKinnon had worked for two
decades with the CIA, slowly growing disillusioned with every passing year. In
1995, they quietly resigned from the agency and moved to Montana with their
three year old son. Callum knew that something that year had been the final straw
but they never