by David Robbins



Washington, D.C., the once-proud symbol of American might, was in the tight grip of the Russians. They had pillaged and secrated the capital, wiping their boots on the Constitution, Destroying the monuments to freedom. Their plan was to use their base on the Potomac to launch an all-out attack on the Balkanized, warring states of America.

But the Red Menace made one mistake--they thought the Alpha Triad would go like lambs to the slaughter. Instead, like cornered rats, they fought with a savagery that would tear the flesh from the Soviet plan and drive the invaders back to their land of perpetual nuclear winter.


Two men, both in Russian military uniforms, one armed with a holstered pistol, the other wiht a machine gun--an AK-47, if Hickok remembered the gun manuals in the Family library correctly--appeared at the end of the corridor. They reacted to his prescence instantly, the one with the pistol grabbing for his holster and the other soldier sweeping his AK-47 up.

Hickok was 30 feet from them. He never broke his stride as he leveled the Colts and fired, both Pythons booming simultaneously.

The two soldiers each took a slug between the eyes. The one with the pistol simply fell forward, but the trooper with AK-47 tottered backwards, crashed into the left-hand wall, and dropped.

Hickok slowed as he neared the soldiers. He holstered the Colts and leaned over the soldier with the AK-47. "I need this more than you do."