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Back Point of Contact Save as PDF
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
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  58. 55
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  60. 57
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  62. 59
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  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! You in there?” It was Ding’s voice on the other side of the door.

Thank God. Jack sighed with relief. “Yeah. It’s me. Jack.” He dropped his weapon to his side.

“All clear?”

“All clear!”

The door swung open. Ding stepped through, a wide grin on his face. Dom was right behind him.

“Where are the others?” Ding asked, as Dom’s smile broke into a horrified grimace.

A pistol shot cracked behind Jack. The bullet’s overpressure brushed the side of his face, but the slug hit Dom in the chest. In the blink of an eye another shot cracked and put a bullet in the wall near Ding.

Jack whipped around, raising his weapon to shoot the brunette with the pistol, but it was the grinning blonde who caught his eye as she thrust the tip of an eight-inch knife blade into his gut.

3

The tip of the heavy black KA-BAR Tanto blade crashed into one of the ceramic-composite body-armor plates on Jack’s vest, dulling the blow. The blade slipped across the plate but didn’t penetrate. The force of the strike pushed him back a few inches, stunning him for a moment.

In a heartbeat, the blond terrorist drew back her arm to launch another knife thrust at Jack’s exposed face, but her neck exploded in a cloud of arterial spray as three muffled shots rang out, spattering hot blood on Jack’s skin. The blonde spun to the ground in a heap like a broken puppet.

Jack’s adrenaline-fueled brain slowed the action down to a crawl even as his reflexes accelerated. His eye caught the brunette falling to the deck at the same time as her comrade, two red stains flowering on her chest, pistol clattering to the steel deck.

Adara dashed over to Jack, the barrel of her MPX still smoking. She ripped the balaclava off her head to get a better view. Her short blond hair was matted with sweat. She touched his chest where the knife had struck. The fabric was torn, exposing the ceramic plate. “You hurt?”

“No—check Dom.” Jack feared the worst. His cousin was one of his best friends.

But Adara hadn’t waited for Jack’s suggestion, and at “No” she sped over to Dom, seated on the floor and leaning against the corrugated wall. Ding had already yanked open Dom’s armor vest when Adara pushed him aside and dropped to her knees. The former combat Navy corpsman had patched up wounded Marines in Afghanistan. She’d seen the worst and expected more of the same as she reached for Dom’s wound, but she knew she could deal with it.

“Damn! That hurt!” Dom said through gritted teeth.