By Clark Peterson, Bill Webb
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Extra info for Dungeons & Dragons: Crucible of Freya (Sword and Sorcery)
Add the coppery stink of blood and you’d have the perfume of fanaticism, which Gault had smelled in a hundred places over the last twenty-five years. In the end it always smelled like money to him. And money, he knew, was the only force in the universe more powerful than sex. Gault leaned back and sipped his water and observed El Mujahid through the open tent flap. The Fighter stood right outside and was growling orders to his men. Even those who were bigger and more physically powerful than the Fighter seemed shrunken in his presence, their wattage dialed down as his shone like the sun.
The DVD player in my head kept running and rerunning the scene back at the warehouse where I’d shot him in the back. 45 slugs in him from fifteen feet. Pretty much does the trick. If it doesn’t then your only logical ammunition upgrade is Kryptonite. But for a guy who should be dead, he was pretty damn spry. Even though this was all happening too fast I still had time to register the look in his eyes. Despite the twisted, ferociously hungry snarl of his face and the snapping of his teeth, his eyes were totally empty.
There was a huge wet snap! And then Javad was gone. His body switched off like someone had kicked the plug out and he simply dropped. I stepped back and let him fall. I could barely breathe; sweat poured down my face, stung my eyes. I heard a sound behind me-I wheeled around and Church was leaning against the frame of the open doorway. “Welcome to the new face of global terrorism,” he said. M. ” We were back at the table. They’d let me clean up in a bathroom. I showered and dressed in borrowed gym clothes.
Dungeons & Dragons: Crucible of Freya (Sword and Sorcery) by Clark Peterson, Bill Webb