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

Jericho turned his attention to the skies, scanning for any signs of the choppers returning. He knew they wouldn’t attack once the general’s men had breached the gates, but they might still make a final pass before that.

He saw nothing.

He leaned against the wall, just inside the entrance. The brick was cool against his skin. The T-shirt stretched over his colossal frame was soaked dark with sweat. He looked down, contemplating for a moment whether or not he should call Julie, but he quickly decided against it. He needed his head in the game. He needed to focus completely on what was about to happen.

He chambered a high-explosive round.

There was never much need to use the weapon at all, let alone any of its more advanced features—a fact he was grateful for. But he remembered the damage one of these rounds had caused when Collins had fired it back in Prague three years ago. It took out almost an entire wall of a hotel.

He gripped his gun with both hands, holding it low and ready, his finger resting outside the trigger guard.

Imagine what it would do if he fired it into a group of enemies?

His comms crackled into life. “Sir, this is Mike Jefferies. Do you copy?”

He pressed to activate them. “Jefferies, this is Jericho. What’s your position?”

“We’re pinned down just outside the center of Maville. We’re in a plaza close to where the president was killed. There are eight of us here. We’ve got Palugan forces coming at us from three sides. There’s also a group of civilians in a nearby building getting caught in the crossfire. Are there any of our guys who can come help us out, sir?”

Jericho closed his eyes momentarily as he cursed underneath his breath. This nightmare was only getting worse.

He took a deep breath. “Jefferies, I… I don’t know. I’m in the palace with Colonel Ramirez. We have maybe forty guys left. Do whatever you can to stay alive and get those people to safety. Our operatives are northbound, securing the major towns along the way. Honestly, I don’t know how quickly you’ll get any support, if at all.”

There was a long silence.

“Copy that, sir,” said Jefferies finally.

Jericho moved his hand away from his chest, massaging his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

“Come on…” he whispered to himself. “Focus.”

The sound of metal straining and twisting filled the air, followed a moment later by two thunderous bangs. The gates were torn from their giant hinges, opening up the courtyard to the men outside it.

A squad of the general’s men rushed forward. They fanned out across the courtyard as they entered, taking up positions behind what was left to provide cover. Jericho watched the first squad move in, waiting for the next wave to appear.

Moments later, another group stormed into view. Maybe fifteen men grouped together past the threshold where the palace gates once stood. Without hesitation, Jericho dropped to a knee and took aim. He fired twice in quick succession. A heartbeat later, the entire group of men disappeared in a large cloud of crimson dust, accompanied by two muted explosions.

The men already inside the palace grounds dove away, yelling with surprise amidst the chaos.

Jericho didn’t give them a second’s reprieve. He fired another explosive round at the biggest group of them. Five more men were taken out instantly.

He switched to normal rounds and opened fire, sending the remaining forces scattering for cover. He clipped a couple of them but couldn’t tell if they were fatal shots.

Jericho ducked back inside as more of the general’s men began filing into the courtyard, followed by the unmistakable rumble and roar of the general’s tank. He watched as the barrel and tracks rolled into view, barely squeezing between the cracked stone pillars of the gateway.

“Shit,” he muttered. His special rounds wouldn’t make a dent.

The tank flattened and shattered what remained of the courtyard’s decorations as it positioned itself in front of the steps leading up to the entrance of the palace. Jericho retreated further inside, heading along the corridor that led toward the president’s office. Ramirez met him halfway.

“Have they breached the gates?” he asked.

Jericho nodded. “They have. The good news is there are now around twenty less soldiers than before. The bad news is the general’s tank is parked out front and aimed at the door.”

The colonel sighed. His grave expression portrayed his obvious concern.

“Everyone’s in position inside the palace,” he said. “We’ll let them come to us and pick them off in the corridors.”

“I’ll head upstairs and see if I can—”

He was cut off by the sound of a helicopter. It was loud, which meant it was close.

Jericho and the colonel exchanged a worried look. They realized in the same moment what was happening.

“They’re landing on the roof!” said the colonel.

They sprinted for the nearest staircase. Jericho looked at the first GlobaTech operative they passed on the way. “Tell everyone down here to hold their positions. Pick your shots. Don’t let them get through the doorways.”

Both men took the stairs two at a time and continued sprinting when they reached the upper level. Men lined the hallway at intervals, taking cover behind statues and seating where they could, all facing the large glass doors at the far end that opened out onto the balcony.

They were halfway along when they were forced to skid to a halt on the marbled floor. Up ahead, the glass shattered as armed soldiers descended from above on fast-ropes and burst through them. Six men landed awkwardly, their weapons already raised to fire.

The scene froze. A heartbeat felt like an hour as the two lines of staggered allies stared at the cluster of enemies, locked in a deadly stand-off.

Jericho and Ramirez reacted differently.

The colonel backpaddled, almost stumbling as he scrambled for the nearest source of cover while trying to draw his own sidearm. His instinct was logical—improve his position and get ready to defend himself.

Jericho did the opposite. Without hesitation, he charged