Page 46 of Viking
“Sarge is hit!”Flicker’s voice crackled through my earpiece.“Flesh wound, upper arm.Still mobile.”
“Status on the server room?”I demanded, dropping to one knee behind a filing cabinet to reload.
“Northwest corner,” Bull reported.“Heavy resistance.Could use some help.”
I signaled to Prophet.“Go.Help Bull secure the primary objective.Saint and I will push toward the control center.”
Prophet nodded once, then charged down a side corridor, his large frame surprisingly agile as he weaved between cover points.
Saint and I continued forward, moving in leapfrog pattern -- one advancing while the other provided cover.Two men appeared from a doorway ahead, firing wildly in our direction.I felt the air displacement as bullets whizzed past my ear, so close I could almost taste the lead.
“Contact front!”I shouted, diving behind a water cooler that offered minimal protection.
Saint responded with precise fire, dropping one of the men.The other ducked back inside the room.I seized the opportunity, sprinting forward and throwing myself through the doorway.The man was fumbling to reload, as I crashed into him, we went down in a tangle of limbs, his rifle clattering away.
His fist connected with my jaw, sending stars exploding across my vision.I responded with an elbow strike to his solar plexus, forcing the air from his lungs.We rolled across the floor, grappling for advantage, knocking over chairs and crashing into a desk.
His hand found my throat, fingers digging into my windpipe.Black spots danced at the edges of my vision as I struggled for air.My fingers scrabbled at his face, finding his eye socket.I jammed my thumb in, pressing hard.He screamed, grip loosening just enough.I bucked, throwing him off-balance, then reversed our positions.One solid punch to his temple.Then another.His body went limp beneath me.
“Viking!”Saint’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears.“We’ve got more incoming!”
I staggered to my feet, tasting blood from a split lip.My jaw throbbed where the man had connected, but the pain only sharpened my focus.I retrieved my Glock and joined Saint at the doorway.
Three men were advancing down the hallway, using doorways for cover as they moved.One stepped out slightly from the others.I tracked him through my sights.Breathed out.Squeezed the trigger.He dropped, weapon clattering to the floor.The others immediately retreated, laying down covering fire as they withdrew.
My earpiece crackled and Bull’s voice came through.“Server room secure.Download in progress.Sent Prophet over to Flicker and Sarge.”
Relief surged through me, quickly replaced by renewed determination.“Copy.Estimated time?”
“Two minutes for the primary files.”
“Prophet’s hit,” Flicker cut in, his voice tight with pain from his own wound.“Took one in the vest and another grazed his neck.He’s pissed but functional.”
I ducked back as bullets chewed into the doorframe beside my head, showering me with wood splinters.“All teams, converge on the server room.We’re out in five.”
Saint and I worked our way back through the building, moving from cover to cover.Blood spattered across my face from a man I’d shot at close range, warm and sticky against my skin.The metallic smell of it mingled with gunpowder and sweat, the battlefield cocktail I knew too well.
We encountered another pair of guards in the west corridor.I took one, Saint the other, our movements synchronized from years of fighting side by side.My shoulder slammed into drywall as I dodged return fire, pain radiating down my arm.I ignored it, pushing forward.
By the time we reached the server room, my breathing was ragged, adrenaline surging through my system.Bull stood guard at the door while Prophet, blood seeping through a makeshift bandage on his neck, monitored a laptop connected to the server bank.
“Almost done,” Prophet reported, glancing up at me.“Got everything Wire asked for plus extra.”
I nodded, scanning our team.Everyone was upright, though Sarge’s sleeve was soaked with blood, and Flicker’s earlier leg wound had reopened, judging by the fresh stain on his pants.We’d been lucky.
“Control center?”Bull asked.
“Still need to secure it,” I said, checking my ammunition.Three magazines left.“One team member should be there.The leader.”
The thought of confronting the man who’d ordered Kris’s death sent fresh heat through my veins, burning away fatigue and pain.
“Download complete,” Prophet announced, disconnecting the laptop and stowing it in his pack.
“Good,” I said, reloading my Glock with practiced movements.“Now we finish this.”
Chapter Thirteen
Viking
