Page 328 of Broken Oath

One of the guards shoved him.

“Move!”

Wade stumbled forward.

The guard stepped within reach.

Too close.

Wade looked at Grant.

Now.

He spun.

The metal bolt drove into the guard’s thigh where his armor ended.

The man screamed.

Wade caught his rifle before it fell.

Grant slammed his shoulder into a second guard.

Jackson swept the legs out from under the third.

Dawson drove both hands into the fourth man’s throat.

Five years of rage erupted inside the corridor.

The first guard tried to raise his rifle.

Wade drove the stock into his face.

Once.

Twice.

The man collapsed.

Wade turned the weapon toward the intersection.

“Get their guns!”

His men moved.

Slow bodies remembered old training.

Injured hands found magazines.

Men who had been prisoners seconds earlier became operators again.

Gunfire erupted farther inside the mountain.

Short bursts.

Professional.

Controlled.