Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,68

down a heavy stream of cover fire while Navarre raced up the tower stairs. He fired until his rifle clicked empty, and then ducked back to safety. Quickly, he tossed the empty magazine aside and slapped in a fresh one.

Above him, Navarre opened fire; not a continuous stream of bullets but the intermittent crack of a high-powered rifle that let Wade know Navarre was taking careful aim at the men in the courtyard. When it stopped, someone in the courtyard returned fire, and Wade emerged from his concealed position and killed the shooter with a well-placed round to the chest. He crouched, and when the guy behind the support pillar came out of hiding, Wade took him out with a head shot.

Staying low, he searched the area for targets. Smoke from the explosions hindered visibility, forcing Wade to rely on his sense of hearing as he quickly reloaded.

The sound of approaching footsteps had him darting for cover. Seconds later, a man armed with a pistol barreled around the corner. Wade grabbed the man’s arm, used momentum to sling him hard against the concrete wall, stripped him of his gun, and used it to shoot him point-blank.

The crack of a rifle sounded in the distance, closely followed by small arms fire. The exchange continued for nearly a minute, and then everything went eerily quiet, leaving only the crackling sound of a fire and the acrid stench of burning rubber.

With his back against the pillar, Wade took several deep breaths to calm the adrenaline twitching his limbs. On the fourth breath, he looked up to Navarre, who gave the signal for all clear.

Another whistle pierced the air, and less than a minute later, Austin strode through the dark billowing smoke, a rifle slung over his left shoulder and a pistol in his grip. His eyes were fierce, and he walked with a swagger that projected pure badass confidence.

Relief nearly knocked Wade to his knees, and he struggled to maintain a cool demeanor. “Having fun back there?”

Austin shrugged, a faint grin curving his mouth as he slipped the pistol into his leather shoulder rig. “Jackson found a propane tank by the north wall. Would have been a shame to waste it.”

“And the truck?”

His brother’s grin widened, reminding Wade of when they were kids and Mom caught him doing something stupid. “That was just fun.”

Wade shook his head, trying hard not to laugh because he didn’t think it was wise to encourage him. He could only imagine what Austin had been like during his stint in the Marines. His brother was notoriously tight-lipped about his time there. Maybe one day he’d get him drunk enough to share a few war stories.

As the dust continued to settle, Jackson appeared, with Navarre alongside him. Thankfully, neither man appeared to be hurt. Eyes watchful, they hurried across to their position behind the pillar.

Austin pointed to the machine gun Jackson was holding. “Where’d you get the M60?”

“You like it?” A cocky smile warmed Jackson’s face. “I got it from a guy who don’t need it no more.”

Wade’s grip on his pistol tightened as he searched the courtyard for threats. Finding none, he turned his gaze back to the team. “Ready to move on the house?”

In the blink of an eye, Austin’s features hardened. He ejected the magazine of his pistol and replaced it with a fresh one. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The windows were barred, which left the front door as the sole means of entry. And now that the element of surprise was long gone, their job just got a lot harder.

“How do you want to breach?” Jackson asked. “Front door’s probably rigged.”

“Even if it’s not, I bet there’s a bunch of guys waiting for us on the other side,” Navarre added. “At least, that’s what I’d do.”

Kicking the door down like they did in the movies would most likely result in one—or more—of them getting killed. They needed a distraction to regain their advantage, but what?

Wade’s gaze locked on the pair of Jeeps parked in the courtyard. He elbowed Austin and gestured to the vehicles. “I’ve got an idea. Follow my lead.”

Before his brother could ask what he had in mind, Wade raced to the Jeep closest to the house and wrenched the door open. No keys inside—that would have been too easy—but it didn’t take long to hotwire it.

Using a chunk of concrete on the accelerator, Wade put the Jeep into gear and sent it careening up the stairs and toward the front entrance. The impact smashed