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The Forever Man - Book 1: Pulse

The Forever Man
Book 1: Pulse
© 2014, Author Craig Zerf/C. Marten-Zerf
Published by Small Dog Publishing Limited at
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material
protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws
and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this
material is prohibited. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval
system without express written permission from the author
/ publisher.
Book 1: The Pulse
Chapter 1
Master Gunnery Sergeant Nathaniel Hogan stood outside the new
American embassy at N ine Elms, London and stared at the boats drifting
down the river Thames. He was dressed in his standard combat utility
uniform or „digies’, so called because of their MARPAT Digital
camouflage. He was wearing the darker woodland version as opposed to
the light desert one, even though, strictly speaking, it was for winter use
only.
Hogan was a large man. Raw boned, six foot four, around two hundred
and forty pounds. And, at only twenty-six years old, one of the youngest
Master Gunnery Sergeants in the corps. His black hair was cut in the
standard marine style, short back and sides, the length not exceeding three
inches. He was clean-shaven. His eyes, deep set under thick eyebrows,
their dark green color like emeralds in pools of shadow. High cheekbones
suggested Native American ancestry backed up by his broad, white teeth
and straight Roman nose.
He did not carry an assault rifle but, on his hip rode a Colt 1911M25, the
latest update of the venerable 1911. Still chambered for the 45 cal round
but with a staggered magazine holding ten rounds and also with an inbuilt
compensator.
He glanced at his watch. Eighteen hundred hours. The last of the public
had left. Sunset was forecast for twenty hundred. Change of guard was
scheduled for the same time.
Hogan was in charge of eight marines stationed at the embassy. It was
what the corps called a „reward posting’. Eighteen months of cushy duty
in one of the most fun cities in the world. Tonight he was knocking off
after change of guard and was heading into the city to meet an English
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