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Book: DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense by Jackson Cole
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Authors: Jackson Cole
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Marshall replies. ‘Side-mounted 7.62-millimetre M60 machine gun.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yes,’ Marshall agrees. ‘Shit loads of shit.’
‘Are we stopping?’ Charlie asks.
Marshall responds by pushing the accelerator down further.
He also realises in that moment that Charlie would die for him. That he even asks the question confirms it, for if they do keep going, they will surely get shot to shit. 600 rounds per minute will tear up the four-by-four and kill all of them inside of two minutes. Even if it takes longer, Marshall is sure they have a lot more than 1,200 rounds of ammunition aboard the chopper.
They drive on a few moments longer. Then the booming voice from the helicopter comes again. Just as they knew it would.
This is your final warning , it states. You have thirty seconds to begin to bring your vehicle to a halt before we open fire .
Marshall begins a count in his head. He knows that Charlie will have done the same. Then when he has counted to twenty-four, he hits the brakes and spins the wheel of the four-by-four until it’s fully locked. Then he hits the gas, centres the wheel, and drives a straight forty feet before bringing the four-by-four to a complete stand still.
‘Ready?’ He asks Charlie.
‘For what?’
‘Anything.’
‘Here they come,’ Charlie announces two minutes later.
Four men have jumped down from the now landed helicopter and are heading for the four-by-four. They are assuming the same V-shaped pattern that Quinn’s team adopted earlier. All four men are carrying automatic rifles, M16’s by the looks of it. Marshall watches the way they move as a team. He is disappointed, but not surprised to see that they look like a capable unit.
‘Hands on the dashboard, Charlie,’ Marshall orders.
‘Yes, sir,’ Charlie says whilst saluting him, before placing both hands face upwards on the dashboard.
Hands facing downwards can still conceal items.
Marshall copies Charlie, placing his hands just above the steering column.
Within thirty seconds there is a guy at every window of the vehicle.
‘Everyone put their hands…’ begins the guy in charge before he realises that Marshall and Charlie have already done so.
Marshall looks at him through the open window.
He is 5'9'', 200lbs.
Not normally a problem.
But he has an M16 pointed directly at Marshall’s chest through the open window.
‘Where is the girl?’ he asks.
‘Barbados I think,’ Charlie says.
Marshall looks straight into the guy’s eyes.
‘At ease, Corporal. We were on our way to find you.’
‘Sir?’ the guy responds.
‘I presume you are from Fort Baldwin?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the soldier replies.
‘That is where we were heading. And the girl is in the back.’
‘I’m a little confused as to why you think you would find Fort Baldwin, sir?’ the soldier asks.
‘Lower your weapon and I will show you,’ Marshall suggests.
‘I can’t do that, sir.’
‘You have three other men stationed at each window,’ Marshall reasons. ‘I am not going to reach for my pockets, I am going to reach for my wrist.’
‘I cannot lower my weapon, sir.’
Marshall exhales noisily. Fucking grunts he thinks to himself.
‘Just don’t fucking shoot me then, okay?’
Then with very slow and careful movements, Marshall reaches across and reveals the GPS device on his wrist.
The Corporal moves one hand to his comms device.
‘We have a definite ID on Marshall,’ the Corporal says into his throat mike. ‘There are two further civilians also. One man, one woman.’
He paused to listen to a response through his ear piece.
‘Unconfirmed, sir. But Marshall states that she is alive.’
He pauses again.
‘Yes, sir. Understood,’ he responds, to whatever order he has just received.
Nothing further happens for a moment. Then the Corporal goes to the rear door, opens it and drags Sarah out by her hair. She begins to scream immediately from the sudden pain, as the soldier pulls a knife from his belt and
‘Shit.’
‘Yes,’ Marshall agrees. ‘Shit loads of shit.’
‘Are we stopping?’ Charlie asks.
Marshall responds by pushing the accelerator down further.
He also realises in that moment that Charlie would die for him. That he even asks the question confirms it, for if they do keep going, they will surely get shot to shit. 600 rounds per minute will tear up the four-by-four and kill all of them inside of two minutes. Even if it takes longer, Marshall is sure they have a lot more than 1,200 rounds of ammunition aboard the chopper.
They drive on a few moments longer. Then the booming voice from the helicopter comes again. Just as they knew it would.
This is your final warning , it states. You have thirty seconds to begin to bring your vehicle to a halt before we open fire .
Marshall begins a count in his head. He knows that Charlie will have done the same. Then when he has counted to twenty-four, he hits the brakes and spins the wheel of the four-by-four until it’s fully locked. Then he hits the gas, centres the wheel, and drives a straight forty feet before bringing the four-by-four to a complete stand still.
‘Ready?’ He asks Charlie.
‘For what?’
‘Anything.’
‘Here they come,’ Charlie announces two minutes later.
Four men have jumped down from the now landed helicopter and are heading for the four-by-four. They are assuming the same V-shaped pattern that Quinn’s team adopted earlier. All four men are carrying automatic rifles, M16’s by the looks of it. Marshall watches the way they move as a team. He is disappointed, but not surprised to see that they look like a capable unit.
‘Hands on the dashboard, Charlie,’ Marshall orders.
‘Yes, sir,’ Charlie says whilst saluting him, before placing both hands face upwards on the dashboard.
Hands facing downwards can still conceal items.
Marshall copies Charlie, placing his hands just above the steering column.
Within thirty seconds there is a guy at every window of the vehicle.
‘Everyone put their hands…’ begins the guy in charge before he realises that Marshall and Charlie have already done so.
Marshall looks at him through the open window.
He is 5'9'', 200lbs.
Not normally a problem.
But he has an M16 pointed directly at Marshall’s chest through the open window.
‘Where is the girl?’ he asks.
‘Barbados I think,’ Charlie says.
Marshall looks straight into the guy’s eyes.
‘At ease, Corporal. We were on our way to find you.’
‘Sir?’ the guy responds.
‘I presume you are from Fort Baldwin?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the soldier replies.
‘That is where we were heading. And the girl is in the back.’
‘I’m a little confused as to why you think you would find Fort Baldwin, sir?’ the soldier asks.
‘Lower your weapon and I will show you,’ Marshall suggests.
‘I can’t do that, sir.’
‘You have three other men stationed at each window,’ Marshall reasons. ‘I am not going to reach for my pockets, I am going to reach for my wrist.’
‘I cannot lower my weapon, sir.’
Marshall exhales noisily. Fucking grunts he thinks to himself.
‘Just don’t fucking shoot me then, okay?’
Then with very slow and careful movements, Marshall reaches across and reveals the GPS device on his wrist.
The Corporal moves one hand to his comms device.
‘We have a definite ID on Marshall,’ the Corporal says into his throat mike. ‘There are two further civilians also. One man, one woman.’
He paused to listen to a response through his ear piece.
‘Unconfirmed, sir. But Marshall states that she is alive.’
He pauses again.
‘Yes, sir. Understood,’ he responds, to whatever order he has just received.
Nothing further happens for a moment. Then the Corporal goes to the rear door, opens it and drags Sarah out by her hair. She begins to scream immediately from the sudden pain, as the soldier pulls a knife from his belt and
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