Guardian:The Guard of Legion

Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? If you are a seller for this product, would you like to suggest updates through seller support? About the Book This adventure begins in a small mining town, on a night just like any other, when an evil entity descends from a distant world on to ours. With it, it brings a vast army, invisible to the eye, but very real indeed and powerful enough to disturb the balance of the Universe.

In this dark hour, mankind calls out for a champion and it is through an ancient force, alien to us, that this call is answered. A force so ancient, that its origin is unknown to all, but an outsider that has observed the course of our history, and befriended us through the centuries. This gentle giant is the last of his kind, and holds the very essence of mankind's salvation in his hands. The knowledge of a great power that has maintained order and peace throughout the Universe and guarded it from all evil.

This force, known as the Guard of Legion, were now once again resurrected in the likes of four, reluctant heroes of Earthly descend. Among them is their leader, an unlikely warrior, enhanced with a power so intense, that it stands to challenge any force in the Universe. To unlock his true potential though, he must first find himself and in a sense become a man. He carries a great responsibility and the faith of the known world now rests on his shoulders. He is the Guardian, the champion of mankind and the leader of the most elite fighting force in the Universe.

Together with the mighty hi-Tech army of a hidden civilization in the Bermuda Triangle, they must overcome the odds and save the day. They are the Earth's last line of defence against attacks from beyond, and while the rest of humanity continues with its day-to-day existence, they will do battle with the greatest evil that the world has ever known. Like Stone, the man on the floor is not an actor, but Mark Moogalian, the actual person who lived the events of 21 August , when a gunman, armed with weapons including an AK and almost rounds of ammunition, allegedly attempted to commit a terrorist atrocity.

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Stone locked eyes with his friend Anthony Sadler, who was a short way away on the train carriage. It felt as real as it gets. Basically, they saw what happened in real time.

Two and a half years ago, three young Americans — Stone, then 22, Sadler, 23, and their friend Alek Skarlatos, 22 — were on a tour of Europe. On a train from Amsterdam to Paris, the three — along with British businessman Chris Norman, and Moogalian, who apprehended the man first — stopped an alleged attempted terrorist attack. Today, they are back in the city, in a grand hotel suite, lounging, legs on tables, to promote the film The The atmosphere is slightly hysterical — the three are hyped-up on jetlag, attention, sports drinks and the path that the train journey has taken them on.

Stone was a staff sergeant in the US air force; Skarlatos was a specialist in the Oregon national guard; Sadler was a kinesiology student at the University of California. Now, all three would like to be movie stars. It has been a unique experiment by modern Hollywood standards, if not historic the former US soldier Audie Murphy played himself in To Hell and Back in , but he had already been an actor for a number of years by then , and all three do a remarkable job.

They met Eastwood when he presented them with an award in Backstage, joking, they asked if he would be interested in directing a film of their story. They had a book coming out, and he asked them to send it to him. They did, and they received a call soon afterwards to say Eastwood wanted to film it. Three weeks before shooting started, he called them to Los Angeles.

They asked for 24 hours to think about it.

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Were any of them not keen? We were all on the phone and Spencer said: About the sum total of their acting experience belonged to Skarlatos, who had been in school and church plays. They saw icebergs floating south on the Labrador Sea, and polar bears wandering the coast. When they got back to Halifax at the end of the summer, Steve, Joe and about six others sailed the boat down to Galveston, Texas, its home port. Day after day, they watched the American coast stretch out beside them as they sailed south.

The hard work was done, and they spent their evenings talking and writing letters home. Croft says it was the first thing resembling a vacation Joe had ever been on. Joe never went back to Hubbards to finish high school; instead he joined the coast guard, and through his early 20s, he broke ice in the North-west Passage on the Louis St Laurent, circumnavigated North America, and got caught in a hurricane in the Bermuda Triangle. In , at age 28, something changed in Joe again. He was working for the Bedford Institute of Oceanography, mapping the seafloor around Campobello, a tiny New Brunswick island of people a few hundred metres off the coast of Maine.

His ship was docked at a wharf within walking distance of the Canadian Legion, the only bar on the island at the time. At a community dance there one night, he met Darlene Brown, a born-and-raised Campobello islander, and daughter of a herring fishermen. She asked him to stay. He and Darlene married in He helped start the Frog Pond Warriors hockey team, made up of islanders and residents of Lubec, the tiny, faded Maine fishing village on the mainland, connected to Campobello by bridge. He taught his friend David Anthony to sail, sneaking out with him on the water every chance they got.

He brought his harmonica everywhere, in case there was any opportunity to break it out. Campobello was also the first place Joe ever got close to whales. Out alone one night not long after moving to the island, pulling a herring seine through the pitch-black water, Joe heard them following his little boat and the fish he was hauling in, calling out to another, and breaking the surface all around him.

When he told his sister, Mary Ellen Lonergan, she worried for his safety. What if they got too close, tipped his boat? It seems quaint today, but in the early s, naturalists poring over freshly unearthed fossils were still arguing over whether or not the complete extinction of a creature — its total elimination at human hands or by natural selection — was even possible.

Thomas Jefferson, the third US president and wildlife hobbyist, wrote: Tell that to the mastodon, the bison, to little unassuming creatures like the Wyoming toad. Tell it to the right whale. By the 11th century, at the latest, the Basques were climbing hills and towers above the Bay of Biscay, looking for North Atlantic right whales. These massive, slow-moving animals socialized at the ocean surface, and, thanks to an immense layer of blubber, floated on the water like fat black corks long after they were killed. By the 16th century, when stocks in the Bay of Biscay started dropping, the Basques sailed farther, to the coast of Newfoundland, where they hunted bowheads.

By the 17th century, whale oil powered western civilization, and the North American whaling industry, centred in Massachusetts, was its epicentre. The possibility that it could be the same creature migrating to all of these places — a global species — was unfathomable. In North America, right whales were called the true whale, the whalebone whale, the 7ft bone whale and the rock-nose whale.

How one man died so a whale might live | Life and style | The Guardian

But to the landlocked across the globe, they were a frightening mystery — aquatic enigmas. In the 16th century, artists depicted them as giant devil-fish with long, pointed teeth and spikes, eyes speckling their bodies, and even snouts. The cull let up briefly when we replaced whale oil with petroleum, but ramped up well beyond its previous capacity with the invention of harpoon launchers and factory ships. By , 50, whales were being killed annually, and in the postwar years, whale oil was a cheap filler, used in everything from margarine to ice cream, fertilizer to soap.

A study in estimated the total number of whales killed in the 20th century at nearly 3 million.

Commercial whaling was finally banned by the International Whaling Commission in though a few nations, including Japan, Norway and Iceland, disregard the ban. Some species have rebounded since then — humpbacks and Antarctic minke whales, for instance, are expected to reach their pre-whaling population numbers by But for the right whale — the so-called urban whale, which shares its habitat with our industrialized coastlines, and whose population in was less than — the decline was too steep, and the waters it shared with humans rife with far more danger.

That endeavour became the Centre for Coastal Studies — initially a two-man activist organization, and now a hub for scientific research and coastal stewardship. One day in April , Mayo was working a whale-watching boat in Cape Cod Bay when he saw a few right whales swimming nearby.

After explaining to the crowd how rare it was to see them there, an elderly woman approached him. About a year later, researchers from Dalhousie University and the New England Aquarium, including Philip Hamilton and Moira Brown who would eventually head up the Canadian Whale Institute , found a big group of right whales congregating in the Bay of Fundy during the summer months. They developed a method of identifying individual whales in part by the raised and roughened patches, called callosities, growing in unique patterns on their skin. After a few years of identifying, photographing and cataloguing the whales, they could finally say how many were out there: The population was small, but it was slowly, unexpectedly, growing.

There were two big impediments: Death by ship strike is easy to explain. It is blunt-force trauma, leaving whales the roadkill of the sea. But entanglement is more complicated, and gruesome.

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Whales wrapped up in fishing line might drag that gear around with them for years, the force of the water against their bodies pulling the nylon ropes deeper into their flesh, and sometimes bone, by the day, week, month, exposing wounds to water-borne viruses and bacteria. The drag can make swimming to food sources taxing. And the rope sometimes gets tangled up in their baleen, making it difficult to feed.



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Entangled whales may die of infection or starvation, and the stress of it all might even be causing females to delay pregnancy, which means not only more dead whales, but fewer calves too. While Moira Brown and others were advocating to get shipping lanes moved in the Bay of Fundy, Mayo and his friend David Matilla were developing something much more immediate, and much more dangerous: Much like harpooning a whale, rescuing one is a mad frenzy for life, all cold spray, hot blood, and adrenaline.

Instead of a harpoon, rescuers throw a grappling hook, tethered to a control line and buoy, into the tangle of rope on the whale. In October , they were ready to try it on an entangled female humpback named Ibis off the coast of Gloucester, Massachusetts. She escaped their first pursuit, but a month later, on Thanksgiving, Mayo, Mattila and a small crew went out with hydrophones and an inflatable Zodiac boat to record a group of humpbacks singing near Provincetown.

How one man died so a whale might live

When they got there, they found Ibis, still tangled, and far thinner than when they saw her last. And then they got started. They used a small boat anchor as a grapple and hooked a control line and buoy into the fishing line wrapped around the whale. Just as the old whalers described, Ibis, too exhausted and depleted for a chase, simply stopped after a few minutes of swimming. Leaning over the side of the little boat, Mayo and Mattila used a filet knife to cut away the nylon rope threaded through her baleen.