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

“Mr. Buchanan, this meeting is over. I suggest you take the first flight to Washington. You should expect a call from the United States Justice Department in the morning.”

The council members began to file out of the room, brushing past Buchanan. He stood rooted to the spot, speechless and shocked. He had been completely blindsided. He had suspected GlobaTech could be in trouble in the aftermath of the Palugan shooting. But this…

He shook his head and reached for his phone. He had to let his team know. GlobaTech wasn’t going to just be shut down. They were about to be dissected.

11

The day had started out hot in southern California. Julie and Collins walked across the graveled and dusty compound. Their tops, already dark with sweat, clung to their bodies.

Julie checked her watch. “Moses should be in his meeting now.”

Collins shook his head disapprovingly. “How do ya think it’s going?”

“I have no idea. He’ll call if he needs to. We have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Aye, this damn bullet kept me awake all night.”

Julie grunted. “Yeah, same here. As if there wasn’t enough going on to keep us awake as it is.”

They paused as a transport vehicle passed by. Overhead, a chopper emblazoned with the GlobaTech logo swooped down from behind the bordering mountains toward a landing pad. Collins watched it until it disappeared from his sight.

He cleared his throat as the noise died down. “So, ah… I’ve been meaning to ask ya, Jules… how are ya holding up?”

Julie smiled to herself before turning to look at him. She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m doing fine, Ray. Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m where I need to be. I’m concerned about everything that’s happening, and I’m obviously worried about Jericho, but I’m good. It’s my job to look out for you, remember?”

He smiled. “Aye, but still… it ain’t just about the job, ya know? I’m looking out for ya because, well… ya know.”

She smiled again, broader this time. “I know. I appreciate it.”

“Plus, Jerry would kill me if I didn’t keep an eye on ya.”

“Probably…”

They looked at each other and laughed, sharing a moment of reprieve that was all too brief.

They made it to the armory and headed inside, striding hastily toward the testing area.

In the far-left corner, tucked away from the bustle and noise of the ranges and behind a partition, was Devon’s personal workspace. It was a ten-by-ten block of floorspace positioned against shelving units which were overflowing with spare parts. The shelves formed two of the four walls. Plywood painted metal-gray formed the third wall, completing the U-shaped structure.

Devon was hunched over his desk, a laptop open beside him.

Collins and Julie stopped outside, and Collins knocked on the wall.

“How ya doing there, Dev, my old friend?” he said.

Devon didn’t look up. “What time is it?”

“Just after nine,” said Julie.

“P.M?”

“A.M.”

He finally tore his attention away from his desk to look at them. “Really? It’s tomorrow already?”

Collins frowned. “Have ya been here all night, ya mad bastard?”

“I guess so.” He reached for a cup on his desk and chugged the contents. “Check this out.”

He turned the laptop so that they could both see the screen. It displayed a 3D wireframe model of the bullet Jericho had sent them. It was broken down and separated into several different parts, all positioned to fit together but spaced out.

Devon pointed at the screen. “So, I wasn’t too far off with my initial assessment yesterday. It functions like a normal round but actually has a microchip inside it.”

“Do you know what for?” asked Julie.

He shook his head. “Not exactly. However, I can hazard a guess.”

He tapped quickly on the laptop keys, manipulating the model of the bullet to turn it around.

“I was right about this being cutting edge propulsion technology. The microchip, I think, is what acts as the ripcord. It must be activated after the bullet is fired, either automatically or manually via a remote of some kind.”

“Sweet Jesus…” muttered Collins.

Julie stared at the bullet lying on the desk. It was split vertically in two. The edges were ragged.

“Devon, we saw what that thing can do from a good shot,” she said. “But just how dangerous is it?”

Devon let out a long, heavy sigh, like a mechanic working out a quote. “Without rigorous testing, I can’t be sure of its actual limitations, but I know one thing—ain’t no body armor in the world that could stop it.”

“Are ya serious?” asked Collins, his eyes wide with shock.

Devon nodded. “You have any idea how hard it was to break that sonofabitch open? It’s made from a complex alloy—part silver, part titanium, part graphene. I had to use a diamond drill bit just to make a dent.”

“That’s impossible,” said Julie vacantly.

“I honest to God wish it were, Miss Fisher. That bullet will only stop when it loses velocity and the laws of gravity take effect, like any bullet. Except, thanks to its microchip, it will take three or four times longer than a normal round for either of those things to happen. And even when they do… well… you’ve seen it yourself. The bullet stays intact. If these things ever make it onto the black market, they will change warfare forever.”

Julie and Collins stared at each other. The horror on their faces was mirrored back to themselves.

“We can’t let that happen,” said Julie. “We have to find who made it and who fired it.”

“Well, that might be the only bit of good news I have for you,” said Devon. “Not taking into account the technology needed to actually make one of those things… the materials alone would mean each individual bullet would likely cost five or six thousand bucks.”

Julie let out a low whistle. “Not exactly priced for mass production. I guess that is good news. Any ideas who made it?”

Devon shook his head and sat down. He leaned back in his chair and rested a leg up on the corner of