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

like a raging bull toward the group, aiming dead-center. His instincts were engrained in his genetics. He confronted danger head-on. He could acknowledge fear without feeling afraid. He could be cautious without being hesitant. His logic was sound too. Closing the distance gave his enemies less space and opportunity to react. While the colonel was reactive, Jericho was preemptive.

He dropped his shoulder as he slammed into one of the soldiers, turning his body and diving like a bowling ball hitting the pins. The group of six scattered and sprawled across the floor. Jericho landed on top of them but quickly rolled away, ignoring the thousands of tiny shards of glass that pricked at his skin. He knelt on one knee and focused on the nearest man to him. He held onto his gun, pinning it to his body as he rained down three stiff blows to his face. The third knocked the man unconscious.

Jericho tore the gun from his grip and tossed it aside. He then got to his feet as the rest of the group began to recover. In a whirlwind of unbridled strength and indiscriminate ferocity, he moved from one side of the hallway to the other. He swung right fists and elbows at one man, then used the momentum to spin counterclockwise and deliver left forearms and punches to the next.

Each blow staggered and stunned the men, further delaying their retaliation. He reached the wall and slammed his back against it after his final turn. His weapon was already drawn as he cleared the group. He fired two rounds at the man nearest to him, who crumpled instantly to the floor in a lifeless heap. A second later, a cacophony of gunshots rang out as the colonel and the line of allies opened fire at the rest of the group, dropping them all within seconds.

Silence fell. The acrid stench of cordite filled the air. Jericho leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He looked up to see the colonel standing in front of him, holstering his sidearm.

“You really are a crazy sonofabitch, Mr. Stone,” observed Ramirez with a light tone.

Jericho stood straight and shrugged. “It was instinct, I guess. Come on. There’ll be more where they came from. We need to stay focused and maintain our hold on the palace.” He turned to address the men standing with them. “Dropping in from the roof didn’t work for them. The general’s unlikely to try it again. His last option is a frontal assault on the ground. He’ll only use the tank as a last resort. The palace symbolizes control. If he blows it apart, he’ll struggle to stake his claim as Paluga’s leader. That means he’s going to send in every last man he’s got and try to overwhelm us. Make sure all first-floor entrances are covered. Use the doors as a funnel, make a kill box, and drop the bastards. Understood?”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the men.

Jericho nodded to the colonel. “Let’s go.”

24

The jet cruised above the clouds. A clear blue sky and unrestricted sun surrounded the plane as it headed toward California.

New York was almost two hours behind them now. Julie and Collins sat in silence, staring anywhere except at each other, nursing a plethora of minor injuries they both felt embarrassed about having.

Collins cradled a thick glass tumbler half-full of whiskey. The amber fluid swirled and splashed around inside the glass as the plane rocked gently with turbulence. Opposite him, Julie held an unopened bottle of beer to her forehead.

On Buchanan’s instructions, they were returning to the GlobaTech headquarters in Santa Clarita. They knew Buchanan was maybe an hour behind them since his hearing ended prematurely following the president’s intervention.

Collins looked over at Julie discreetly. Her vacant stare did nothing to hide her emotions. With all this happening so soon after her father’s funeral, and with Jericho in the situation he was in, Collins was impressed she had held things together as long as she had. He knew for sure he wouldn’t have fared as well as she had if he had been in her position.

“He’s gonna be okay, Jules,” he said after a moment.

She looked up, distracted. “Hmm?”

“Jerry. He’s gonna be fine. He’s a one-man army, that fella. Don’t worry about him.”

Julie smiled politely. The gesture was weary and without humor. “You trying to tell me you’re not worried about him?”

He held her gaze for a few seconds, then glanced away. He reluctantly nodded as he conceded her point. “Aye. Of course, I am. Just trying to… ya know… be comforting.”

Julie smiled again, more genuinely this time. “I know. Thank you.”

“The boss man pulled off a miracle by getting the U.N. to drop their bullshit hearings and charges.”

Julie shrugged. “That’s only temporary, though. Once the Palugan situation is over, Moses will be right back on the Hill. The president’s intervention is nothing more than a Band-Aid on a broken arm.”

Collins downed the contents of his glass. He sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth as the whiskey burned its way down his throat. “Not necessarily. Jerry’s gonna do a job over there. We both know it. If we resolve that, maybe the U.N. thing goes away.”

“I hope you’re right, Ray, but I’m not holding my breath. I’ve seen nothing to suggest our run of bad luck is anything other than temporarily postponed. Whatever’s really going on here is far from over. I can promise you that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, and a half-hour passed by quickly.

Louise, the stewardess, appeared from behind the curtain, interrupting the brief respite.

She smiled apologetically. “Guys, you have a call from Mr. Buchanan. I’m going to patch it through to the screen here, okay?”

As she turned away, she momentarily placed a hand on Collins’s shoulder. He looked up at her and smiled gratefully at the gesture before she disappeared. Julie noticed the brief exchange but said nothing.

She spun her chair around to face the screen mounted on the wall of the