Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 133182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Fuck!” I scream as I watch Sophia being lifted up and thrown over the shoulder of some fucking SWAT asshole.
On the monitor, I see at least ten men, all dressed head to toe in black tactical armor. I can’t recognize anyone specifically except for maybe Trent. I figure he’s the dickstick that’s not carrying a weapon. His broken elbow is in a cast and he’s got a fucking black sling.
Flicking on the audio feeds, I listen in and hear him say, “Get her in the fucking SUV. The others can deal with him.”
“I’ll fucking kill you all,” I hiss as I grab the emergency hardline phone on the desk.
I need to help Sophia.
But fuck, I’m going to have to kill a lot of men in order to do that.
Pushing the second number on the speed dial, the line only rings once before Simon picks up. “What’s happening, James?”
“They’ve got Sophia. I’m counting ten men so far, inside and surrounding the perimeter. Can’t tell if there’s more in the SWAT truck they drove through my fucking house,” I say as I turn around and start piecing together what I need to survive.
“We’re twenty minutes out,” Simon hisses in irritation. “Any chance you can stall them?”
“I’m sure as fuck going to try, but the stairwell to the first floor is partially collapsed,” I say, eyeing the large stash of goodies I’ve collected over the years.
A plan is slowly coming together in my head, but I don’t know exactly how it will work yet.
“Dammit,” Simon snaps.
“Call Oscar, have him out on the road to tail them. Maybe he can see where they’re headed,” I say, rage threatening to cloud my thinking. “Send one car here, the rest follow Sophia. My wife is our number one priority.”
There’s a touch of trepidation in Simon’s voice when he asks, “What do you have planned, James?”
“Remember how you wouldn’t let me play with the big boy toys? Well, I’m gonna have some fun now.”
Lucifer comes over the line. “James…”
“Don’t worry, Matthew,” I say. “I’ll make sure all my fingers and toes remain attached.”
Trent moves toward an SUV with the fucker carrying Sophia. Those lucky fucking shits are going to be able to breathe for another hour, I guess.
“They’re leaving soon. They’ve got seven guys stationed inside and outside the house now,” I say. “They’re going to be hunting for me.”
“Lock yourself in the safe room, James. We’ll be there soon,” Lucifer says like he’s trying to fucking give me an order or something.
“Eat my asshole,” I say before hanging up the phone.
Quickly grabbing Mitzy, I put her on the bed against the wall. “Stay. Daddy’s has to take care of business.”
Walking to the opposite wall, I grab the small pair of earmuffs I had specifically designed for her. Placing the earmuffs over her ears, I give her a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll get mommy back as soon as I can, baby.”
Turning to the special safe, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. I’ve gathered a lot of cool shit over the years. Antique guns, lots of cash, unmarked gold bars, and C-4. I’ve also completely set up new identities for me and Sophia. The moment I knew I had to have her I went to work on getting us a way out if we ever needed it.
All of us in the family have new identities waiting in our safes in case shit truly hits the fan.
I know I’m on a deadline, but I stare at the passports, credit cards, birth certificates, and social security cards. These things are made at a high cost. They’re not knockoffs or stolen. They’re real separate identities. We could walk into the any government agency and get zero questions.
Is it time to use these?
I don’t think so, but we’re heading into a war right now and who the fuck knows what’s going to happen.
Grabbing a black backpack from the side of the safe, I sweep all the cash, gold, and identities into the bag. Just in case. They won’t do me any good down here if we have to make a quick run for it.
Setting the bag down by Mitzy, I crack all the knuckles on my hands and start to dig out my toys.
It’s time to play.
Pulling out the C-4 and the stuff that makes it all go boom, I grin to myself. The guys never let me have any fun with this shit.
It’s always—James you’ll blow your fingers off. James you blew up a donut shop. James you don’t know what you’re doing.
Yada, yada, yada.
Fuck ‘em all.
This has to go quick though. I need shock and awe when I do this. And I need to take out as many of them as possible before it gets down to guns and fists.
Jogging over to what’s left of the stairwell, I make my way up and start planting all the C-4 I have in places that will hopefully burst up and outwards. Whatever comes near my little boom cave is going to have a bad time.