Page 410 of Broken Oath

To kill him.

Madow finally understood how it felt to become an inconvenience.

Funny how people disliked the system once it turned against them.

One of the armored trucks accelerated.

Engine roaring.

Headlights cutting across the runway.

Soldiers ran beside it, using the vehicle as mobile cover.

It headed directly toward the cargo aircraft.

Rook spotted it.

“Armored vehicle moving!”

The truck gained speed.

Closer.

Faster.

More dangerous.

Cobra smiled.

His favorite kind of problem.

Then something beautiful happened.

A round struck the auxiliary fuel tank mounted beneath the vehicle.

Fuel began pouring onto the runway.

Not enough to ignite.

But enough.

More than enough.

Fathom’s voice came through the radio.

“Cobra.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t.”

“Technically, I haven’t done anything.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.”

Rook glanced toward him.