Crossfire

  GLOBATECH:

  CROSSFIRE

  A THRILLER

  by

  JAMES P. SUMNER

  First published in Great Britain in 2018.

  First edition.

  Copyright © James P. Sumner 2018

  The right of James P. Sumner to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission of the copyright owner.

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, situations and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, place or event is purely coincidental.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Welcome To The Thrillerverse

  Previously…

  Prologue

  CROSSFIRE (Book 1 in the GlobaTech series)

  More Books by the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This has been a challenging and exciting novel to write. The first third of this story was written back in 2015, and it’s something I’ve always wanted to come back to. I just needed the right angle, the right reasons to finish bringing this story to life, and finally, I have.

  As always, I didn’t do this alone. While writing is a fundamentally solitary task, every author needs the right people around them to lean on, to ensure the end product is everything it can be.

  I firstly want to say a huge thank you to my readers. Specifically, the fine folks in my VIP Facebook group. They’ve been with me every step of the way, giving me words of encouragement and support when I’ve needed them. They’ve seen all the ups and downs of my personal journey over the course of this last year and have stood by me and helped me through. I couldn’t be more grateful to have them!

  I also want to take a moment to thank the truly awesome people at Bloom Coffee Company in Bury. They provided me with a creative space and enough caffeine to get the job done, as well as showing genuine interest and support in what I do.

  Behind every good author is a great editor. Coral at Briar Rose Editing worked hard to make sure this novel realized its full potential. Anyone who makes me look this good deserves all the recognition they get!

  Finally, to my good friend and fellow author, Adam Croft, for giving me a much-needed kick up the ass on a daily basis, for helping me keep my eyes on the big picture, and for reminding me how lucky I am to be doing this for a living.

  Thank you, everyone. What follows is for all of you.

  WELCOME TO THE THRILLERVERSE

  Between 2013 and 2017, I released seven books in the Adrian Hell series. Each one focused on a specific chapter of his life. In these novels, incredible things happened that shaped and changed the world Adrian lives in forever.

  That world is the Thrillerverse.

  Beginning in September 2018, every thriller I release will be interlinked. Every story, every character, every series (old and new) is based within this collective universe, and each will impact the others.

  This is ambitious. This is exciting. This is original. It’s the literary equivalent of the Marvel Cinematic Universe! And remember, just like in the MCU, it ain’t over till it’s over. You should keep reading to the very end of this book… who knows what you might find?

  PREVIOUSLY…

  On April 22, 2017, GlobaTech Industries sent a small unit of elite soldiers from its own private military force to Prague. Their mission was to apprehend a man carrying information that proved a conspiracy at the highest levels of U.S. government.

  The mission was organized and executed under the supervision of Josh Winters, a former soldier and special operative, and Ryan Schultz, the acting CEO of GlobaTech Industries at the time.

  The team was successful but were involved in an unexpected and unavoidable skirmish with a unit of mercenaries recently disavowed by the CIA. There was collateral damage, both physical and political. With GlobaTech’s position as the acting peacekeeping force for the United Nations, coupled with the growing tension inside the government, there was demand from the public for someone to blame. Ryan Schultz and Josh Winters were left with little choice but to terminate the employment of their elite unit, painting them as enemies in the eyes of the world and using them as scapegoats for what happened in Prague.

  Shortly after this, the assassin known as Adrian Hell shot and killed U.S. President Charles Cunningham inside the Oval Office. In the aftermath, Ryan Schultz was sworn in as his successor at the request of the Secretary of State.

  A few weeks later, Josh Winters was shot and killed by an unknown assailant on a street corner in Rome.

  That was two years ago…

  PROLOGUE

  The chorus of crickets echoed in the silence, hidden in the tall, dry grass beside the dirt road. The temperature was in the low eighties, despite the late hour, and the breeze that drifted in from the Mexican coast did little to counter the evening heat.

  Two shadows crouched in the undergrowth, motionless and calm, watching the one-story brick house opposite. Its walls were cracked from years of neglect. The tiles on the roof were loose in places, and the frail wooden shutters stood open at the windows, allowing light to flood out and bathe the dusty street in its orange glow.

  The car had arrived ten minutes ago, parking haphazardly on the makeshift driveway to the right of the entrance. Two men had climbed out, moving quickly to the trunk and lifting the small child out of it. It was a girl no older than eight. Duct tape covered her mouth and bound her wrists and ankles. Her face was dirty and stained with tears. Her clothes were torn in places. The faint wind blew the loose material, which quietly flapped against her body.

  The taller of the two men had heaved the girl over his shoulder, carrying her into the house with ease. The other man had looked up and down the street before following his partner inside and slamming the door shut. There had been no sound or movement since.

  One of the shadows stood, flexing its enormous frame and adjusting its grip on the silenced assault rifle it held. It set off walking, cautiously placing one large boot in front of the other. The sound of them brushing through the grass was interrupted by a crunch underfoot, which silenced the noise of the insects. The shadow froze momentarily, waiting for any sign its presence was known… but there was nothing.

  It continued, more carefully than before, and soon drew level with the house. The shadow dropped to one knee again, sinking back into the darkness against the low wall that separated the road from the cliffside, which dropped down to the bay. The assault rifle was aimed forward, the barrel always following the eyes, ready for anything.

  “In position,” said Jericho Stone into his comms unit.

  “Copy that, Jerry,” replied Ray Collins. “Making my move.”

  The second shadow emerged from cover and crossed the road, quick and low. Light from the window partially illuminated Collins’s face as he crouched against the far side of the car, hidden once more from his targets.

  Collins rested his weapon against his leg and fumbled with the cover on the gas tank. He pried i
t open and unscrewed the cap, then retrieved a dirty rag from his back pocket. He pushed the rag inside, soaking it in gasoline, then wiped it along the side of the car, allowing the excess liquid to drip onto the ground. Standing quietly, he walked toward the front door of the house, leaving a thin trail of fuel behind him. He dropped the rag at the side of the single step, dried his hand on his leg, and then moved across the front, taking cover on the opposite side of the building, directly opposite Jericho. Collins looked over at the darkness, knowing his partner was hidden within.

  “All set, Jerry,” he whispered.

  Jericho inched forward, revealing himself in the dull glow of the night. “Let’s get her back.”

  Collins made his way along the side of the house and paused beside the back door. Jericho crossed the narrow street and pressed his back against the wall beneath the open window. Using his thick, powerful legs, he cautiously stood so that his head was level with the rotted ledge. He took a deep breath and held it before flashing a split-second glance through the gap in the shutters. He dropped back into cover almost instantly, his trained eye seeing everything he needed to.

  “Ray, I have eyes on four hostiles at the front of the house,” he said quietly. “No sign of the girl—she must be in another room somewhere.”

  Collins moved into position, mirroring Jericho near the back door. He flicked a glance through the window, into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, I’ve got her,” he replied in his low, gravelly Irish tone. “Two hostiles, one either side of her, sitting at a table.”

  “Okay. Moving into position by the door. We breach on three. Quick and clean. Ready?”

  “When you are, Jerry. One…”

  “Two…”

  “T’ree!”

  Collins stood and kicked the door hard, just to the side of the handle. It flew open, and he stormed into the kitchen, firing two controlled, accurate bursts in quick succession. Each one caught a man in the chest. The girl’s eyes went wide with alarm; her involuntary scream was nothing more than a muffle against the duct tape.

  From the other side of the house, Collins heard four bursts of suppressed gunfire—three in quick succession and one a few seconds later, which interrupted a man’s yell.

  Knowing Jericho had everything covered, he let his gun hang loose and hurried toward the girl, putting a finger to his lips and gesturing for her to stay calm.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he said to her. “We’re gonna get ya outta here, I promise.”

  Her body relaxed back in her chair as she took deep breaths through her nose. Collins looked into her large, innocent eyes, trying to imagine what it must be like for a child that age to experience such horror.

  “I’m gonna take this tape off your mouth, all right? It’s gonna sting a little bit, but I need ya to be brave and stay quiet, okay?”

  She nodded silently, not taking her wide eyes off him.

  He moved his hand gently to her face, wiping a tear away with his thumb as he pinched one corner of the tape.

  A sudden burst of gunfire from behind made him flinch, and he instinctively ducked, pulling the tape straight off as he did. The girl couldn’t hold in the yelp of pain and surprise. As he dropped to one knee, he spun around, grabbing his rifle and taking aim.

  Jericho stood in the doorway, his gun raised, smoke whirling from the barrel. Next to the doorway opposite, a man with a knife in his hand slowly slid down the wall, leaving a long, crimson stain behind him.

  “Heh… thanks, Jerry. I owe ya one.”

  “I’ll add it to the list,” he replied, shrugging. “Are we good here?”

  Collins looked at the girl, who nodded at him silently before throwing her small arms around his neck. He stood, scooping her up and holding her in his left arm. She wrapped her short, bruised legs around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

  He turned, holding his gun ready in his right hand. “Aye, we’re good. Let’s get the hell outta here before anyone else arrives.”

  Jericho walked with purpose back through the house, toward the front door. Collins followed behind him, moving slow, checking their six.

  They stepped out onto the road, scanning both ways before crossing and crouching low in the undergrowth against the wall opposite.

  Jericho placed a finger to his ear, activating his comms unit. “Jules, what’s your position?”

  There was a crackle of static, and Julie Fisher’s voice came on the line. She sounded flustered, and her voice was loud because of background noise. “I’m coming to you now… maybe three minutes out. Gimme some good news, boys.”

  “We’ve got the girl,” announced Jericho.

  “Casualties?”

  “Seven. All armed hostiles.”

  “Ah, crap!” interrupted Collins. “Jerry, we’ve got company.”

  The dirt road was on a slight rise, which dropped away and curved left approximately a mile and half to the west. Two sets of headlights sped toward them in the distance, approaching the bend.

  “I see them,” said Jericho. “Julie, we have two vehicles, maybe ninety seconds out.”

  “You need to hold them off,” replied Julie. “I ran into some trouble myself back here, and it delayed me. Whoever’s coming will reach you before I do.”

  “Copy that,” said Jericho. He looked up at Collins. “Ray, you got a light?”

  Kneeling in front of the young girl, Collins rested his rifle against the wall next to her and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a rusted silver Zippo, which he tossed over to his partner.

  “Heh… Ya picked a helluva time to start smokin’, Jerry.”

  “Nah, I’ve got enough bad habits for the both of us already,” he replied, smiling as he stood and headed back across the road, toward the house.

  Collins retrieved his gun and looked at the girl. “He’s right—smoking’s real bad for ya, kid, but it’s better than getting shot at. Trust me.”

  The girl giggled. “You’re funny!”

  “Aye, kid—funny-lookin’! Stay quiet for a sec, ’kay?” Collins looked to his right at the approaching cars. “Jerry, how we doin’ there, matey?”

  Jericho moved around the hood of the car, letting his rifle hang loose as he placed both hands flat on it. Scuffing his boots on the ground to secure his footing, he leaned forward at a forty-five-degree angle. The muscles on his hulking frame bulged as he pushed the car down the driveway and into the middle of the road.

  Once it was in place, he looked over at Collins. “I’m good. Now let’s move.”

  Collins picked up the girl again and sprinted to his left, away from the house and the oncoming cars. As soon as they were clear, Jericho tossed the lighter onto the rag at the side of the step and ran after them. Moving fast, they linked up and continued to run until they reached the clearing in the undergrowth where they had started almost ten minutes earlier. They turned and watched as the flame chased along the dripped line of gasoline like a starving beast. It followed the car as it rolled slowly across the dirt track.

  Seconds later, it reached the gas tank, and a thunderous explosion rang out, propelling the car straight up into the air. The smell of burning fuel was strong, and the initial blast lit up the night sky. The flaming remains of the car landed with a loud, metallic thump, blocking the road ahead. Despite the distance, they had to squint as the heat touched their faces.

  “Beautiful!” said Collins, laughing. He looked at the girl in his arms. She had her eyes screwed tightly shut and her hands over her ears. He bounced her up and down gently to get her attention. She opened one eye and smiled. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

  “Jessica,” she whispered.

  He held up his hand, and she high-fived him.

  “Well, Jessie—I’m just gonna call ya Jessie, okay?—I gotta say… you’re pretty badass, d’ya know that?”

  She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as they slowed to a walk.

  Jericho noticed the way Collins was with her—ho
w natural he appeared at reassuring her and keeping her safe. The two of them had known each other a number of years, yet he had never seen that side of his friend. It wasn’t unusual for Collins to have a different female companion seemingly every weekend, though what he lacked in decency, he more than made up for in charm. Yet, seeing him with a child, Jericho noticed a natural father figure in him, which came as a pleasant surprise.

  “Come on,” he urged them. “That barricade won’t hold them for long. Julie, where are you?”

  “Not far,” she replied. “I’m assuming that fire I see is your handiwork?”

  Jericho exchanged a glance with Collins and smiled. “Yeah, we didn’t want you to miss us in the dark.”

  Moments later, headlights illuminated the road in front of them. They were dim at first but gradually brightened until a black Range Rover slid into view, stopping beside them. Jericho reached for the passenger door and climbed in. Collins followed suit, holding the rear door open for the girl, who climbed inside eagerly.

  “Scooch over, Princess,” he said, diving in beside her.

  The doors slammed shut, and Julie hit the gas. The rear end fish-tailed in the gravel as she accelerated back the way she came, checking her rear view for anyone in pursuit. She ran a hand habitually over her auburn hair, which was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her gray tank-top was patchy with sweat, and her bare arms were tense as she drove.

  Happy they were clear, she glanced sideways at Jericho and sighed. “Do either of you know the meaning of the word discreet?”

  Behind her, Jessie tapped Collins on the shoulder and leaned in close, whispering in his ear. “She sounds really mad…”