BooksBarbecue
Back Point of Contact
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

Jack whipped around just in time to see Lian struggling in the grip of another thug from the bar, his ropy arms wrapped around her from behind. He was smiling and whispering something in her ear that made her growl and struggle even harder.

Jack started to move in her direction when he caught sight of the shadow of the third man from the bar circling around behind him.

Jack turned back and faced the ringleader, older and larger than the others. He recognized the tat on the big man’s cabled forearm. The sword Excalibur, with flames. SASR—Special Air Service Regiment.

Australian Special Forces.

Jack lifted his hands chest high, palms out, a surrendering gesture. “Dude, look, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Well, mate, you found it just the same.”

The man who was circling in the shadows stepped out. He stood to Jack’s left, four feet away.

The tattooed leader darkened. “I just wanted to buy the lady a drink—”

Jack stepped cautiously toward him, just three feet away now, his eye on the Rover’s interior light.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was in a bad mood—”

“And flashing your filthy money around.”

Jack stepped his right foot forward, closing the distance, and reached with his left hand for his left rear pocket. “Money? Sure. No problem.”

Just then, the interior light snapped off.

Just what Jack was waiting for.

He lunged forward and threw a sharp jab at the big man’s throat with his open left hand. The man tried to scream but gurgled instead, clutching at his windpipe.

Jack stepped backward and pivoted left, turning forty-five degrees, using the momentum of his twisting torso to help propel his exploding right fist straight into the nose of the other man charging directly at him. Jack felt breaking cartilage and hot blood gushing onto his knuckles as the man’s head snapped back with a crack. He crashed to the ground at Jack’s feet, splayed out in front of the gasping thug, now on his knees.

“FUCK!” echoed off the concrete behind Jack. He spun around in time to see the last Aussie doubled over in front of Lian, clutching his balls. Lian launched a kick, the toe of her shoe slamming underneath his jaw. Jack winced at the crack of his breaking teeth. The man flew backward, arms high in the air, knocked out cold before he thudded into the concrete in a heap.

Jack ran over to her. “You okay?”

“Caught me by surprise.” She turned to the downed man. “Bastard!” She spat at him, started to lunge at the body, but Jack seized her by the arm.

“You already nailed him. No point in killing him.”

She whipped around at Jack, her eyes blazing. “Let go of me!”

Jack let go, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “You win.”