Reddit reviews Riley: Bad Things For The Right Reasons

Roger sips at his coffee. Steam flows out of the cheap cup into the cold air. By Roger’s reckoning, the cup of joe seems to be the only warm thing for kilometers. Trying to wrap his mind around that fact, he thinks about where he is. He’s standing before a cold building, on a cold world, moving through the cold of space. He shivers, pushing the thought aside. Before taking another sip of coffee he scans the world around him: snow, more snow, ice, and more snow. He shivers again.
The rifle hanging down to his hip jingles slightly as he puts the last hot sip of coffee to his lips; it’s the last thing that he ever does. The round that goes through his chest bursts his heart; Roger is dead before he hits the cold ground. Hot brown coffee mixes with deep red blood, melting the snow around the body.
Luck had nothing to do with the shot. The sniper had taken great care to place the bullet where it needed to go. Also, if luck had been working in the sniper’s favor, the next guard would not have rounded the corner about the time Roger’s body hit the ground.
The guard has enough time to draw up his rifle before the wall next to him is splattered with his own brain matter. No sound is heard from the shot; the only clue that would have helped someone find the shooter would be the gray silencer sticking out from atop a snowdrift more than a few kilometers away.
Ejecting the spent casing onto the ground, Riley stands up from the snow. The rifle collapses and hooks in two places on the mercenary's belt to keep it from making any noise. Being quiet and not getting caught is the name of the game. Before moving on to the building, the sniper bends back down to pick up the bullet casings, making sure that no one will know where the shots had come from. The white-gloved hand reaches down and places the shells in a pouch.
Riley is clad in white, blending in with the snow, completing the requirements for the stealthy operation. The only thing not white is the helmet’s dark visor that reflects the world around it. The armor is made for this environment; not only does it blend in, but it comes with life support that can keep a person warm in much colder weather than what it is right now. However the suit is not perfect; it puts the heavy in ‘heavy’ armor.
The snow makes soft crunching sounds as the infiltrator sinks in it. In the deepest drifts the snow covers the armor plating on the calves. It makes getting to the outpost more than a bit of a pain. But at long last the mercenary makes it.
From a holster, Riley brings to bare a stainless steel handgun. The merc’s grasp is firm on the black plastic grip, making the pistol more an extension of the arm than a separate thing. They hardly make guns like this one anymore. A cylinder holds only six rounds of .357 caliber ammo. The weapon is one of the few things in this day and age that is fully mechanical. The pistol may not have a lot of advantages over a more modern design, but Riley has reasons to like it.
As the merc moves closer to the building, the pistol never wavers from the bodies lying motionless on the ground; if they weren't dead, they would be.


Above is a sample from my first book Riley: Riley: Bad Things For The Right Reasons; that I published this week!

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