Free DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense by Jackson Cole

raises it high above Sarah’s head.
    Marshall is moving before he contemplates the consequences. Fuck it , he thinks, who dares , wins , right ? He barrel rolls across the door as he opens it and rebounds off like a pinball. He cannons into the Corporal who immediately drops the knife and hits the ground, with Marshall landing on top of him. Marshall figures he has another three or four seconds before he hears a gun shot, so he pulls his fist back to land the hardest punch of his life to the Corporal’s throat.
    But one of the other soldiers fires immediately.
    Marshall hears the shot and feels the pain in his upper back. He is unconscious before he hits the ground.
     
    Quinn waits a full three minutes after she hears the four-by-four’s engine fade into the distance before she moves.
    God, her chest hurts.
    She stands up slowly, removes her Kevlar vest, and checks her ribs. Badly bruised, but not broken. Marshall’s aim was accurate with every shot.
    Quinn knows how the SAS work, as her training was almost identical. They kill with a triple tap: two bullets in the chest, one in the head. But that’s not how her team handle things. They don’t like instant deaths. They prefer to draw things out for as long as possible.
    A Berretta-92 clip holds ten rounds, and Quinn ensures that every one of her team carry their weapon the same way. Two live rounds, followed by a single rubber bullet, repeated three times in the clip, then a final live round for good measure. The two live rounds are for treatable wounds. Shoulder shots, leg wounds and the like. The rubber bullet is to be used to knock out a target, as it did to her. They are then moved to a secure location for torture.
    If only Marshall knew. He only needed to fire once more to finish her off.
    Quinn smirks briefly.
    Then she opens her mobile phone and hits speed dial one.
    Report , the gruff voice on the line orders instantly.
    ‘Ambushed. Foster, Smith and Malloy dead,’ Quinn replies.
    How far ahead are they ?
    ‘Hard to tell. Maybe one kilometre. But I am on foot.’
    Then you’re no fucking use to me , the gruff voice answers and disconnects.
    Quinn was expecting no less.

Chapter Twelve
    Marshall wakes up, leaving behind a dream. He was at Sarah’s funeral and at the last moment, just before the coffin was closed, someone pushed him inside it with her.
    ‘About fucking time you woke up you lazy little shit,’ a familiar voice says.
    ‘Mason?’ Marshall whispers hoarsely.
    ‘Yes, Marshall.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Marshall says, still feeling quite disorientated. He looks at his watch. He’s been out for a while.
    ‘I followed you out here son,’ Mason begins. ‘I left a few hours behind you on a slightly more direct flight. I arrived here about two hours ago.’
    ‘Where are we?’
    ‘Fort Baldwin,’ Mason answers. ‘I flew here because I figured it would be the first place you would go if you got into shit.’
    ‘You were right,’ Marshall replies. ‘We did get into shit.’
    Then his memory begins to return properly.
    ‘There was a fucking helicopter!’ Marshall shouts. ‘And the Corporal was going to kill Sarah. Where the fuck is Sarah, Mason?’
    ‘At ease, Marshall,’ Mason replies in his cool gruff voice, ‘Sarah is fine. She is sleeping in one of the bunk rooms. Charlie too.’
    Marshall knows army bases, and wonders exactly how safe a woman would be on her own. Mason seems to detect this and adds, ‘She has a guard stationed outside her room.’
    ‘He pulled a knife on her, Mason, a fucking knife.’
    ‘He was ordered to,’ Mason replies, casually. ‘We needed to be sure that it was you in the car. So I told the Corporal to make like he was going to kill her. Your reaction proved that it was you.’
    Marshall just sits and stares.
    ‘You would have been told, Marshall, but then you winded the Corporal when you landed on him. The other grunt that was near you said it looked like you were pulling back for a serious