Page 23 of Broken Oath

Fear of unfinished goodbyes.

Viking looked toward the sky.

“My mom’s gonna be pissed.”

The words hit like a knife.

“She’s always telling me to stay away from dangerous places.”

The enemy moved closer.

Less than two hundred yards.

Viking saw them.

Then he looked back at his brothers.

“Listen to me. Somebody sold us out. The bastard thinks he won.”

Rook’s jaw tightened.

“Prove him wrong,” Viking said. “Find him.”

Rook nodded once.

The promise felt carved from stone.

“I will.”

Viking looked at Sniper. “Try not to be ugly at my funeral.”

Sniper’s face cracked.

A sound escaped him.

Half laugh.

Half sob.

“Shut up.”

“Just trying to help.”

Viking looked at Fathom next.

“You were right.”

Fathom blinked. “About what?”

“Everything. You usually are.”

A faint smile touched Fathom’s face.

Viking nodded. “There it is.”

A bullet struck the rock beside him.

Stone exploded across his shoulder.