Sleeper Cell Super Boxset Read Online Free PDF

later, a second guard came down to join his comrade, and both men took turns aiming their pistols over Dylan, Mark, and Billy’s heads.
    With the rest of the pirates gone and two left to guard Dylan, Mark, and Billy, he realized that the small boat must not have had enough room to carry all of their gear. The pirates would need to make another trip.
    Right now they were two hundred yards from the shore. It’d take the pirates at least five minutes for the trip, and just as long to unload whatever they had, then five minutes for the journey back, perhaps shorter since they weren’t so heavy.
    Dylan’s eyes roamed the cabin, trying to catch anything in his peripherals that he could use, while keeping a watchful eye on the fingers curled over gun triggers. The two pirates watched them like hawks, and each moment that passed was one less second they could be using to get away. “You speak English?”
    Neither man responded. Mark finally broke his gaze on the pirates and turned to Dylan. Billy awoke from his fatigued stupor. “Hey!” Dylan shouted, triggering the pirate’s foreign dialect and the barrel of his rifle to be shoved in his cheek. Dylan shoved the rifle’s barrel away from his face, but the pirate still kept a bead on him. Dylan forced the adrenaline coursing through his body to stop his muscles from trembling, and he gritted his teeth. “I know you can understand me, you piece of shit.”
    The pirate grabbed Dylan by the collar and flung him across the inside of the cabin. He smacked into one of the cabinets, and plates and utensils spilled out. Mark and Billy jerked from their seats, but the pirate’s comrade kept them at bay.
    Dylan fumbled his hands to try and grab a fork that had fallen to the floor. When the pirate lunged for Dylan again, he jammed the fork’s prongs into the side of the pirate’s neck. Blood spurted over Dylan’s fingers as the pirate squirmed and flailed. The pirate’s comrade aimed the rifle at Dylan’s head, and just before he squeezed the trigger, Mark barreled into him, sending the bullet off kilter and into the cabin’s wall. Dylan repeatedly jammed the fork into the pirate’s flesh, each new set of holes provoking fresh blood. More gunshots fired down the cabin hallway, where Mark had tackled the pirate and Billy had gone to help him.
    The pirate Dylan had stabbed twitched, and the struggle slowly faded from his face as Dylan dropped the bloodied fork and pushed the dead body off him. He picked up the pirate’s rifle and stumbled into the hallway, where Mark rested on top of the pirate’s comrade, and Billy was slowly picking him up off the dead body.
    “Mark!” Dylan rushed to help the first mate off the floor. Mark clutched his stomach, his hand covering a bloodied wound.
    “Son of a bitch shot me.” Mark groaned as Billy and Dylan helped him to the seats by the kitchen table.
    Dylan ripped the hole wider in Mark’s shirt to examine the wound underneath then checked his back. “No exit wound. Just hang on, Mark.” He grabbed some cloths and pressed them firmly over the wound. “Keep pressure on it. Billy, with me.”
    The two rushed up the cabin steps and onto the dock. In the distance, he could hear the boat turning around. “They heard the gunshots! Pull up the anchor, now!” Dylan climbed the rungs of the ladder two at a time. He skidded to a stop, his feet almost sliding out from under him. He gripped the wheel for support, and the blood from his hands smeared against the old polished wood.
    “Anchor’s up!” Billy shouted.
    Bullets peppered what was left of the shattered wheelhouse. Dylan ducked, cranking the engine to life as he did. He pushed the throttle down, and the boat jerked forward, gunshots continuing to thunder behind them. Dylan straightened the wheel, and when he looked up, the pirate’s boat was right alongside them, firing into his ship’s hull.
    Dylan turned the wheel hard left, knocking the small vessel back, and the driver veered