Read World War IV: Empires for Free Online Page B

walk allowed the people to see that their governor was still alive and was a chance for him to see how they felt about it.
    The sentiment amongst Dean’s people was mixed. Half the faces he passed wore expressions of hope and gratitude. The others tossed their grunts and begrudged moans as the governor walked by. There hadn’t been this much dissent among his people since before the wasteland-clan wars.
    But the moment Dean saw Kemena, every burden washed away. They clutched each other hungrily, their bodies pressed tight. Even through the thick wool of her dress and his clothes, he felt the heat from her body, a warmth that he’d longed for over the past weeks. When he pulled his face back, he watched her wipe a tear from the corner of her eye quickly.
    “Governor.” The general waited at the entrance to his quarters, eager to debrief him on the climate of war but doing his best to keep a gentle hand in front of Kemena.
    “It’s okay,” Kemena said, cupping the rough beard that had grown on his cheek. “I’ll be here when you get out.”
    Dean kissed her then gently placed his hand over her stomach. At the entrance to Monaghan’s quarters,  he turned back to see her still standing in the same spot, and again he saw it, the lighthouse on the coast, guiding him home, letting him know that no matter how bad things were or how bleak they would become, he could always find his way back.
    General Monaghan immediately went to the map, the figures of their enemy swarming over the capital and much of the lands to the south. “Governor, the losses we suffered during Rodion’s first wave of attack were crippling. We held the capital for as long as we could, but his advanced weaponry was too much. He has armored vehicles, automatic weapons, and the radios to communicate his battle efforts in real time. With the casualties at the capital, our fighting force is down sixty percent.”
    The number nearly collapsed Dean into his chair. “How many wounded?” He knew they couldn’t withstand another assault from Rodion’s men. Without more men and weapons, their next battle would be their last, even with the efforts of their fleet.
    “Five percent,” Monaghan said, shrugging. “It was much higher, but the lack of medical supplies brought it down significantly. Sir”—Monahan moved closer—“we can’t keep control of our own lands.”
    “And what of the clans?” Dean asked. “Did they suffer the same casualties as us?”
    A few of the officers glowered angrily and others cast their gaze down, but only Monaghan looked him in the eye. “Sir, the clans never arrived. We haven’t heard a word from them since the fighting began.”
    Dean smacked the figurines off the table, sending them flying into the cloth tent walls and then crashing to the dirt and sand. Half the map hung from the table, while the end with Rodion’s forces kept the parchment anchored. “Craven bastards.”
    The clans had pledged their alliance, swore they would fight together. If they had shown, it could have been the difference between retreat and victory. It would have easily pushed the number of soldiers in battle back to their favor. They could have flanked Rodion, taken his weapons, turned the tide, they could have—
    “Governor?” Monaghan asked.
    Dean’s knuckles whitened from the hard grip on the table. His entire was body tense, his spine so stiff it could snap in half. “Has Rodion made any demands? Any attempts to send an emissary?”
    “No, Governor.”
    Dean didn’t expect Rodion to; the Russian was winning handily, and Dean had no idea when Rodion would order his soldiers to march. Time was of the essence. Dean regained his reserve and pulled the map back up to the table, the officers helping replace the fallen figurines. He tapped the Northwest port, clear of any of Rodion’s ships. “We’ll send the fleet north to the capital and bombard Rodion’s forces by sea. If we’re lucky, the Australians have given Delun enough