The Time Soldier Series

Forthcoming novel in 2023

The Spartan Solution

Book 1 of The Time Soldier series.

Preview of The Spartan Solution

Prologue

Hopefully, they won’t have to die, Chill thought, watching the six riders quickly approach.

He pushed the last of his parachute into his backpack; he might need it later, and there wasn’t a replacement within a few millennia, then dug through the equipment on the drone beside him. The first thing he touched was his black Cuirass armor and then his large shield, which he set on the ground. Next came a Xiphos sword and two javelins, which he stuck into the hard sand at his feet; he might need them sooner than he preferred. Glancing up to the sky, Chill sighed in relief. Maybe he wasn’t too late. The second drone hadn’t come through the wormhole yet.

“Aha,” he said, grabbing his helmet off the drone and sliding it over his head, feeling his short, groomed beard brush the kevlar sides. It was made to resemble the Spartan armor of 480 BC, but it was so much more. Chill pressed a button under his chin to activate the radio.

Let’s see if this thing works across 2500 years, he thought.

“Zeus, this is Achilles, over,” Chill said into the mics built within his helmet. They had definitely had some fun with the call signs, and it helped that his mother had named him after the Greek hero. Achilles Angelopoulos, Chill to his friends, of which he had very few right now.

“Achilles, this is Zeus. Sitrep, over.” The voice sounded like it was in his mind emanating from speakers in the helmet, but the tests had shown that no one outside could hear through the material. This helmet was a twenty-first-century technical masterpiece. Constructed specifically for his head, it was a tight fit. Chill smiled slightly, remembering the arguments he’d had with the historians and engineers. He’d asked—actually, he’d demanded—for wider eyes slits and a closer molding to his face because he needed to see with his peripheral vision in order to fight. The end product had given the historians fits. Though closely resembling the actual helmet Spartans used, it was stronger than any sword in this age could pierce, comfortable, and functional. And most important, it wouldn’t move while he fought and possibly block his vision.

Violence wouldn’t be his first choice of action, though Chill reserved that right if the situation called for it. 

“I have six unknowns approaching. Request a delay of the second drone and Perseus infiltrate,” Chill said. He’d have to explain the drone on the ground to the riders; maybe he could pass it off as a new type of cart. Without horses. Shaped like a Delta wing. With rubber tires.

Didn’t matter. Whatever he came up with was going to be easier than explaining another drone flying in the sky above them and landing in front of these guys.

“Achilles, the drone has been launched already. Estimated time of arrival at your location is five minutes. Perseus is standing by.”

Shit.

The best-laid plans of mice and men, and soldiers sent back in time, most often go astray. 

Chill watched calmly through his oversized eye slits, facing the horsemen with empty hands, relaxed body, and clear mind. He wore a green colored moisture-wicking tee shirt, grey rip-stop cargo pants, and Salomon hiking boots, not exactly blending in, but he hadn’t expected to see anyone. The cameras from the drone hadn’t shown any activity an hour ago; he’d anticipated being alone. But the Boy Scouts said it best, be prepared. Chill liked to think he was always prepared.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

This was a recon mission. His goal was mission support. 

He drew his pistol smoothly from its holster and pulled the slide back slightly, checked the bullet in the chamber, then holstered the gun again. 

Killing would be the last option.