Page 355 of Broken Oath

I crossed the distance and kicked his wrist aside.

A small backup weapon fell into the snow.

Madow stared up at me.

For the first time, the powerful director looked human.

Afraid.

I held my rifle loosely.

Not aimed.

Not yet.

“You know,” I said, “I flew a long way for this.”

Madow glanced toward the empty landing pad.

Searching for guards.

Searching for another escape route.

There wasn’t one.

For the first time in his life, he was alone.

Exactly like the men he had betrayed.

Exactly like the teams he had sacrificed.

Exactly like six operators left to die on a frozen mountain.

I stepped closer.

“Hammer.”

Madow’s face tightened.

“Tex.”

Wind drove snow across the landing pad.

“Viking.”

His hand pressed against the wound in his leg.

“Ridge.”

Sarah stood behind me, rifle trained on his chest.

“Ghost.”

Madow’s eyes moved toward the mountain.

“Bishop.”

Each name landed like a blow.