Danger Close by James Sumner (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

hundred-plus pounds every morning for a few months had an impact. His large frame had almost doubled in size, and the definition on his body made him appear almost inhuman. His dark, long-sleeve tee clung to him as if it were three sizes too small, showing every ripple of muscle he had.

He was aware of how intimidating he looked.

A man from the group stepped forward to meet them. A thick mustache rested on a face that time had been unkind to.

“Who the hell is this?” he asked.

The guard stepped to the side, having been completely hidden from view behind Jericho. “Sir, I caught him over by the door. Found Steve out cold outside.”

The man looked at Jericho. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a reporter,” said Jericho. “I’m following a lead for a story I’m working on.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve never seen a reporter look like you.” He glanced over his shoulder to one of his colleagues. “Search him.”

Another man from the group stepped forward. Jericho glared as he began frisking him. The man pulled a wallet from Jericho’s back pocket and tossed it to the man in charge, who opened it.

His eyes narrowed with concern. “GlobaTech?”

Immediately, every man took a step away and trained their guns on Jericho.

“This is private property,” said the man with the mustache. “GlobaTech has no jurisdiction. We could have you arrested for trespassing.”

Jericho nodded. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re Byron Tully—a mercenary who, last we checked, worked for Tristar Security. I have to assume the rest of you assholes do too. Given you haven’t had a ton of good press lately, I’m also assuming that whatever you’re doing here isn’t something you want anyone knowing about. You’re not calling anyone.”

Tully lowered his gun and smirked. “Well, aren’t you a fountain of knowledge.” He took a quick look at Jericho’s ID. “You have a big problem, Mr. Stone. There are eight of us and one of you. We have guns and you don’t. And we can’t let you leave here and risk exposure.”

Jericho looked around, assessing his options. No one was within arm’s length, so grabbing a gun wasn’t an option. He knew Tully wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him and drop him in the ocean outside. All he could do was keep him talking.

“You got it all wrong,” said Jericho. “I don’t have a big problem. I am one. See, the first thing I’m gonna do is grab this guy’s gun—” He nodded to the man nearest to him on the left. “—and use it to smash you in the face. Then I’m gonna put a bullet in everyone’s leg. Unless you do something foolish, like try to kill me, in which case the bullet goes a little higher.”

Tully stared at him for a moment, then broke out in genuine laughter. The men around him followed suit.

“Jesus… you’re something else, you know that?” he said. “That’s funny. That’s real goddamn funny.”

Jericho narrowed his eyes, boring his gaze into him like a drill. “Do I sound like I’m joking to you?”

Tully’s smile faded. He re-aimed his gun. “Honestly? No. I think you were serious, which is why I’m going to kill you now.”

Tully’s finger slid into the trigger guard. Jericho glanced around again, seeing if his options had changed since he last checked.

They hadn’t.

He clenched his fists and set his jaw. He had to make a move.

A loud, mechanical whirring noise echoed around the warehouse. Everyone looked over, distracted by the shutters closing on the loading bay. A split-second later, there was another loud click and the lights went out, plunging the whole area into darkness.

Jericho took his chance. He ducked left, navigating from memory, and grabbed the man nearest to him. He forced the gun barrel up as a burst of panicked fire sounded, then jabbed the gun backward, forcing the stock in the man’s face and knocking him out. He scuttled away to the nearby storage racks as more gunfire began to ring out. The bursts provided flashes of light that briefly outlined the frantic movements of the group.

The men spun around, shooting blind and high, aiming at a presumed enemy.

Amateur hour, thought Jericho.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Over the chorus of bullets, he heard the grunt of a man hitting the floor. He let out a relieved sigh, then stepped back toward the group. He moved with devastating grace around the perimeter of the circle, landing precise, heavy blows to incapacitate everyone he encountered.

The firing stopped. From the lights going out to total silence, less than two minutes had passed.

A hollow clunk sounded as the lights burst back to life, bathing the warehouse with their fluorescent glow. Seven men lay unconscious on the floor. Tully was sitting upright, resting against the crates, cradling his nose. Blood trickled over his hand.

Standing beside him, smiling, was Ray Collins.

“You took your time.”

“What?” Ray shrugged. “I was back there, doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“Ya know… putting the thing in the other thing and pressing buttons until the bar on the screen reached one hundred percent.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “The thing!”

Jericho raised an eyebrow. “And there I was wondering why you never got that job in I.T.”

Collins chuckled. “We all have our strengths, big fella. Mine’s charm and tech stuff. Yours is… well, being all big and scary and whatnot.”

“Well, you could’ve hit the lights earlier. I’m not bulletproof.”

“You’re not? See, I figured since ya have arms that resemble the legs of us mere mortals, bullets just bounced off ya.”

“Whatever. Did you get it?”

Collins held up a flash drive and waved it at him. “All here. Shipping manifests and buyer information.”

Jericho nodded. “Good. Let me get some pictures of the weapons for Buchanan, then we can get out of here.”

He moved over to the nearest crate and lifted the lid. Collins grabbed a gun and covered Tully.

Jericho’s forehead creased with a deep frown. “Huh…”

Collins looked over. “What is it, buddy?”

Jericho reached inside the crate and pulled out a