Firestorm: Book III Of The Wildfire Saga - Plot & Excerpts
The White House. CHARLIE LOOKED UP FROM his computer. "Don't hang over my shoulder, man. If you want to do something, try forcing the doors—find something to pry the damned thing open once I bust the lock." Cooper shifted uncomfortably on his injured leg. The pain was wearing on him, but he forced it from his mind. Now was not the time to get sloppy because he was injured and tired. He let his rifle hang by its tactical sling and searched through the chaos of the President's Study. "Not sure there's gonna be anything in here to help us—most of the shit in here looks like it's made of wood. Can't imagine that'll be much use against a steel blast door." "Well…" muttered Charlie, "if we're lucky, when I break this the door might pop on its own." Cooper leaned on a chair as he examined the debris field before him. "You really think you can break that thing? Let's just slap some give glue on it and call it a day." "Now you're talking. Let's blow something up," added Jax from the Oval Office.
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