Against All Odds (Book 2): As We Break

by Hunt, Jack

  Sam nodded. “And so… why did he leave you alive?”

  “Said he wanted me to suffer.”

  “Why can’t we all just get along,” Sam muttered under his breath. He was standing in the bed of the truck leaning on the roof. He had a hand cupped over the top so the reflection of the glass didn’t glint.

  “You mind if I take a look?” Blake asked.

  “Knock yourself out.” Sam handed it to him and then went to the back of the truck and scooped up his M4 rifle. He looked at Somers who was standing nervously beside the truck. He’d seen the same look in the eyes of guys over in Iraq. It was one thing to want to be a soldier, it was another to face real danger. Being a small-town cop didn’t exactly go hand in hand with combat experience. He’d considered joining a department out in California after he left the Navy but he really didn’t fancy dealing with office politics, or knocking heads with those who were intimidated by his past résumé.

  “You okay, Somers?”

  He twisted around. “Yeah. So how we doing this?”

  “Well I’d like to spend a day doing reconnaissance but there’s no time for that shit.” He smirked. “No, listen, the gates are wide open. It’s not like we can take cover anywhere,” he said looking at the open farmland. “So, we’ll roll in while the other truck hangs back and provides additional cover from the east. I’m afraid there is no easy way to do this. We are up shit creek without a paddle. If we were in Iraq we’d have air support but I’m afraid it’s just us and the metal on this vehicle is all we’ve got, so make good use of it.”

  Somers nodded as Sam hopped out of the truck and came around to the driver’s side. Snyder was checking the ammo in his rifle.

  “What’s your background?” Sam asked.

  “Infantry. I did nine years.”

  Sam watched him check over his rifle like he’d done it thousands of times. Under any other conditions he might have shot the breeze with him and swapped combat tales but all he wanted to do now was get in there and deal with the situation at hand. He went over to the second truck and updated them on the plan. Rich Michelson was the second police officer, and the two locals traveling with him went by their last names, Carlton and Jarvis.

  “You sure you don’t want us to follow you in?”

  “Move in, just hanging back slightly. Once we’re through those gates, stay to the east, and we’ll approach via the south. We don’t want to make this too easy for them.”

  He twirled a finger in the air.

  “Gentlemen, let’s move in.”

  The round tore through the armed assailant’s skull dropping him instantly. Mason pressed in as the echo of gunfire dominated. They’d only made it a few feet inside the medical center when he’d encountered a hostile. Had he not shot him, he had no doubt in his mind he’d be the one laying on the ground.

  Not everyone had run out of the building, some of the staff had taken cover behind the front desk. A security officer had been shot multiple times in the back as he’d tried to flee.

  “How many more?” Mason asked a nurse cowering behind the desk.

  She raised a hand. “Three. They went up.”

  Mason gestured to Amanda and they headed for the stairwell.

  “They’re not here!” the man bellowed. “I want them found.” Chase closed the door. He’d watched one of them enter Anna’s room only to come out a few seconds later. The other two men were going room to room, and at times dragging people out who tried to get in their way. The overflow of patients who had been lying on gurneys in the corridor were now cowering beneath them.

  “We need to get the hell out of here,” he said, approaching the window and sliding it open. A large gust of cold wind blew in and stole his breath. Chase leaned out and looked to his left and right, then up.

  “I think we’re going to have to jump.”

  “Are you crazy?” Anna replied.

  “It’s either that or we die. They’re going room to room. It’s only a matter—”

  A flurry of rounds interrupted his train of thought. Chase dashed over to the door and pulled it back to see what was going on. A smiled flickered to life on his face at the sight of Mason. He’d killed one of the three men at the west side and had positioned himself by the doorway. Every few seconds he would bring the barrel of his rifle around and exchange lead. A female patient let out a high-pitched scream as one of the men grabbed her and backed up, using her as a human shield. The second guy was farther down pinned between them. He would unload then pull back into a room.

  Chase watched as the second gunman dragged the woman back while opening fire on Mason. He was heading his way, trying to get to the east stairwell. Chase felt a surge of adrenaline and his mouth went dry. He knew what he had to do but his fear was out of control. Even with a weapon in hand he’d been paralyzed by his fear.

  “Chase. What’s going on?” Anna asked.

  He waved her off, trying to summon the courage to do what was necessary, not just for the sake of Mason but also for the patient, and for both of them. He scanned the room looking for anything he could use as a weapon. There was a chair, and a stainless steel, heavy-duty IV pole.

  Chase snatched up the pole and dashed back to the door.

  Twenty feet.

  Ten feet.

  He pulled open the door, lifted the pole and waited.

  His heart hammered in his chest.

  Five feet.

  “Chase,” Anna called out.

  He didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the man. He knew the odds were stacked against him but he already had in mind what he was about to do. Another barrage of gunfire, and the woman screaming masked the sound of Chase’s boots pounding the ground. The guy must have seen him at the last second, as he turned his head but it was too late. Chase jammed the sharpest end of the pole straight into the guy’s face knocking him sideways into the open room across from them.

  The rifle dropped out of his hands and clattered on the ground.

  He didn’t even think to ask Anna for help, he was too focused on surviving.

  Blindsided, the guy didn’t stand a chance. Chase didn’t give him a second to recover. He began pounding his face with the pole multiple times until he stopped moving. When he finally stepped back, the guy was barely alive.

  Chase turned for the gun but it was no longer there.

  Anna had scooped it up and was attempting to provide additional cover for Mason from the safety of the doorway. She fired two rounds then pulled back.

  Chase motioned for her to toss it to him, instead she slid it across the floor.

  In an instant, he pulled it around, fired a round into the guy on the floor to put him out of his misery and then tried to get a bead on the third gunman.

  Howard barricaded himself in the private medical room using what little furniture he could find, his mind running rampant. It wasn’t meant to end this way. He slung his rifle behind his back and crossed over to the window and slid it open. As he was facing the north side, there was a portion of the roof that jutted out but it was a good twenty-foot drop. He turned and ran through his options. He could try and fight his way out or take his chances and jump. He weighed the odds. Two of them were armed, and there was only him now.

  Four rounds speared his door making the decision for him.

  Howard secured the rifle around his back, climbed up onto the ledge and tried to lower himself. He wasn’t a tall man, just a little over five foot four, so it wasn’t like it would make much difference but it was better than just launching himself out.

  The cold fall wind whipped at his clothes and in those final seconds he regretted ever stepping foot inside Breckenridge. More rounds erupted followed by the sound of them trying to force their way inside. Howard released his grip and dropped.

  After Mason shouldered his way into the room, he fully expected one last attack but it wasn’t to be. “Where is he?” Chase asked, then they saw the drapes in front of the window swaying in the breeze.

  They darte
d over and Mason looked out

  He winced, not seeing any movement.

  It was a grim sight.

  “Is he dead?” Chase asked.

  “If he isn’t, he’s at the right place to get treatment.”

  Chapter 21

  Mia wasn’t a fool. She knew the second they went up in that elevator the rest of the terrorists would execute them, so they sent the elevator up with the dead man in it. Below ground they listened for the sound of gunfire, an immediate reaction to seeing their fallen comrade.

  Nothing.

  Not a bullet fired.

  Not even a footstep.

  “It’s possible they left him here while they took off.”

  “What, to go and get coffee?” Mia said, shaking her head. “C’mon, Douglas. They’re up there.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t hear a damn thing. If they are outside or have left to get something I don’t want to lose the window of opportunity.” Douglas scooped up the dead man’s rifle. “I’m going up,” he said hitting the button to bring the elevator back down.

  Mia placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hold on a second, Douglas.”

  “Mia. You were the one biting at the bit to get out of here. It was your idea to exit.”

  “Yeah so we can live. We need to play this smart. They’ll be expecting us to head up. So we exit via the escape tunnel.”

  “That was your great idea? Geesh!” Douglas shook his head in disbelief.

  She fired back. “Well it’s not like we have many options. It’s the elevator, stay in the capsule with zero supplies or the escape tunnel.”

  Douglas tilted towards her. “I already told you. The chances of you getting through that hard soil are slim to none and if they get their hands on you, it’s game over.” He looked back at the elevator as it reached the ground and let out a clunk. He tapped the gun. Douglas pulled open the steel gates ready to go up.

  “Just stay down here. If you hear any shooting, lock yourself in the capsule.”

  “Douglas.”

  “I’ll be fine. The security control center is within spitting distance when I reach the top. I’ll make contact with backup and be down in minutes.”

  He stepped into the elevator and pulled the gates shut. Through the slats of metal she watched him adjust his grip on the rifle, and do a quick ammo check. He gave a short nod, and then hit the button.

  Mia watched until the elevator disappeared out of view.

  The elevator made a whirring sound that echoed through the depths of the shaft until it jerked to a stop. She heard the gates pull back and Douglas step out but no gunfire. Was it possible they’d left? Or were they just playing mind games?

  A sudden eruption of gunfire answered that.

  Not wasting a second, she darted into the capsule and sealed it closed.

  “Shit. Shit! Why didn’t you listen to me?” she muttered. Sure the soil was hard but it was coming away when she had begun picking at it. Besides, there was no sign pointing where the opening was on the surface. Mia hurried over to the ladder and scurried back into the tube and began hacking away at the soil with the shovel.

  She hadn’t managed to scrape more than a few chunks when the phone began ringing. Mia ignored it and continued scraping until it started ringing again.

  Staring down into the capsule she climbed down and reluctantly picked up the phone.

  “Lieutenant Hart, or would you prefer I call you Mia?”

  “And you are?”

  “Thorn.”

  “What do you want?”

  “C’mon. And I thought you were the smart one.”

  “Is he dead?”

  Thorn snorted. “Who, Douglas?” He chuckled. “No. Well, not yet. But he sure is lonely up here. How about you take that pretty ass of yours and come and join him.”

  She heard Douglas yell, “Don’t do it, Mia!”

  His voice was quickly muffled. It sounded like they had struck him.

  “Do the right thing, lieutenant. Enough games. You now decide if Douglas lives or dies.”

  With that said he hung up.

  Outside the echo of gunfire carried on the wind. Sam’s truck was closing in on the property when he’d heard it. He’d swerved the vehicle at an angle not far from the building. All of them exited and had taken cover behind it assuming they were the target. As the minutes rolled on, it didn’t take long to realize they weren’t.

  “What do you think?” Tim asked. He was lying prone near the driver’s side with a rifle aimed at the main door. Somers had taken a knee at the rear and kept poking his head out.

  Sam didn’t reply, instead he turned and motioned for the second vehicle to make its way up. A large plume of dust billowed up behind it as it rumbled up the final stretch of road. No sooner had he turned back to respond to Tim than several men streamed out of the building with their weapons at the ready.

  One glance their way, and all hell broke loose.

  Bullets whistled overhead, and speared the truck like a heavy downpour of hailstones. They didn’t hesitate to return fire. Tim was the first to react, taking one of them down after squeezing off a burst.

  Sam felt his heart catch in his chest as he engaged. He turned his head briefly to see Officer Michelson swerve the second vehicle over to where there was a Humvee, and several other vehicles. All three men jumped out — Carlton and Jarvis fanned out using the corner at the far end of the building as cover, while Michelson opted for the back of his truck. He hopped into the bed and pulled up to the cab, resting his police-issued AR-15 on top. They were all taking a huge risk, but the consequences of failure would be devastating.

  Gravel crunched below their feet as Sam shifted position and waited for the next wave. He could hear men yelling orders, then several windows were shattered, and the tips of barrels jutted out.

  “Get down!” Sam yelled just as rounds lanced the side of the truck, peppering it from back to front. The front tire hissed, and the frame rattled as they drilled it with everything they had.

  Somers yanked a smoke grenade off his flak jacket, twisted and tossed it between them and the building. A heavy white smoke burst out flooding the grounds like a ghostly apparition.

  “I’m…” Snyder was about to say something as he rolled to one side to reach for another magazine only to be struck in the head by a round. His body went limp and Blake Dawson dropped down and took his spot. There was no time to mourn.

  More rounds pinged off metal and tore up the gravel all around them.

  Blake sprawled out and shifted Tim’s body up as additional cover.

  “Who the fuck are these guys?” Dmitry yelled unleashing a flurry of rounds from the doorway. He pulled back, tossed a magazine and palmed another in. Thorn inched up to a window and zoomed in on the truck. For a second he couldn’t see anything beyond the odd head that would emerge then disappear, or a barrel firing. Then his eyes fell upon the familiar face of Blake Dawson. A shot of panic went through him at his mistake, and the thought of the situation now spiraling out of control. He should have killed him but he wanted him to suffer. Shit! Up until that point, they’d hit a road bump but they were making progress, in fact they were moments away from gaining entry to the capsule.

  “No matter what. They are not to get in here,” he bellowed turning back to the phone and calling down again. He grasped hold of the battered and bruised lieutenant and dragged him over to the phone. He put a Glock against the side of his head and waited for her to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Twenty seconds. If I don’t hear that elevator in the next twenty seconds, I will personally put a bullet through his skull. You hear me!” he yelled then glanced out the window to stay abreast of the situation.

  “Is he even alive?” Mia asked.

  Thorn jabbed the phone at Douglas. “Mia, don’t…”

  He wouldn’t let him tell her what was occurring topside otherwise she might have been less inclined to leave the capsule. “Fourteen seconds. Choose wisely, lieutenant.” />
  He slammed the phone down and dragged Douglas over to the elevator shaft.

  “You won’t succeed,” Douglas mumbled, blood trickling out the corner of his mouth and down his jaw. He was on his knees, barely able to summon the strength to fight back because they’d beaten him so badly.

  Thorn ignored him. “Nine seconds. Looks like your co-worker doesn’t think too highly of you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Thorn continued counting down in his head. As he got to about five, Douglas lunged at him nearly causing him to fall into the shaft. A few seconds of struggling, a feeble attempt to be a hero before Thorn battered him across the top of his head.

  Before he’d reached the end of the countdown he fired a round into his skull.

  Almost immediately he heard the churn of the elevator.

  Thorn scrambled back and kicked Douglas’s body into the shaft.

  There was a large thud as the rising elevator broke his fall.

  With his gun aimed at the shaft he expected to see her, instead it was empty.

  “Bitch!” he yelled.

  Like the earth giving birth to new life, Mia burst out of the grassy grave near a satellite dish, her face covered in dirt. Douglas was wrong. All the time she’d been down there she’d worked away at the three feet of soil until she saw a shard of daylight break through, and the rest collapsed inward allowing her to escape.

  The capsule was still sealed making sure that asshole couldn’t use it.

  Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of gunfire. At first she thought they were shooting at her but as she crawled out, clawing her way to freedom, she turned to find six men attacking the facility.

  A volley of rounds chewed up the structure, and the landscape.

  At first she had no idea who they were until she spotted two police uniforms.

  Unsure but open and exposed to the bullets whizzing through the air, Mia sprinted towards the truck at a crouch. Her fears were soon relieved as the cop waved her towards them. She raced behind the truck and gripped hold of the cop as if the nightmare was over.