Broken Ground
Copyright© 2026 by Lumpy
Chapter 1
Mexico City, Mexico
Taylor stepped through the glass doors, positioning himself on the girl’s right side while Lopez mirrored him on her left. It was not hard to know who she was, even at a glance. Her father might have been a diplomat now, but he’d been in the news for years before he’d been tapped by the Foreign Office for this position.
Normally, a diplomat’s family wouldn’t be a major target, but the man was filthy rich and had questionable business contacts stretching back years. That, and his wife was from Mexico, which explained why his daughter, while she had his features, had her mother’s complexion. Taken together, there had been credible threats on his and his family’s lives while in country.
Normally, Taylor wouldn’t have worked for someone like him, having a distaste for his type, but she was a seventeen-year-old girl, and while the British government might protect him, she was on her own.
Besides, the company was still new and this job was bringing in a lot of money.
The street was busy, although not packed. Office workers heading for late lunches, vendors hawking newspapers and cigarettes, the usual urban flow that made threat assessment both easier and harder. Easier because disruptions stood out. Harder because there were so many places to hide.
Taylor kept his right hand just inside his jacket, resting on the butt of his weapon as his eyes moved over the crowd, watching pedestrians walking, taxis jockeying for position against delivery trucks.
None of that was what Taylor’s eyes locked on.
Across the four lanes of traffic, two men leaned against a dented sedan, wearing cheap suits that didn’t fit right in the shoulders and had a lot of room inside to keep something hidden.
They weren’t talking to each other. They weren’t smoking. They were just watching the entrance to the office building. Further down, near a newsstand plastered with football headlines, stood another pair, also staring hard at the door. Not looking at phones, not reading newspapers.
Just watching.
Taylor glanced at Lopez.
“I see them,” he said.
“Isabella, just keep walking, but when I give you the signal, I want you to run with Lopez to the car.”
“Wait, is it...” she said, her steps faltering.
“No. Keep walking. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe. Just stay with Lopez.”
She nodded, looking terrified.
The two men across the street pushed off the sedan. It was well done. No sudden movement. No rush. It was very professional, the four men moving from two directions, their paths designed to intersect with Taylor’s group just before they reached the safety of the Suburban.
The lead attacker was built like a bouncer, thick through the shoulders with arms that strained against his cheap suit jacket. He reached for Isabella with both hands extended, fingers spread wide to grab her upper arms.
His partner, smaller but with a kind of grace, stepped directly into Taylor’s path. Not reaching for a weapon yet, just using his body as a human wall while his partner secured the target. The man’s eyes were already tracking past Taylor, watching for Lopez.
Taylor wasn’t going to let them set the terms.
He suddenly burst into motion, pushing the girl hard into Lopez, putting his full weight into it.
“Go! Now!”
Lopez was ready and caught her, wrapping one arm around her waist so she didn’t stumble while his other hand went to his weapon. He didn’t question or hesitate, just turned, practically picking her up as he ran her toward the SUV, using his body to shield her from the converging attackers.
Taylor used the momentum from his shove to launch himself forward, closing the distance with the man blocking him. Their approach might have been professional, but they weren’t as good as they thought they were because he caught them completely off guard.
Taylor’s right hand came up holding his sidearm, but instead of firing, he drove the butt of the pistol into the man’s throat, the strike crushing the man’s larynx with a wet crunch.
The attacker’s hands went to his neck as he staggered backward, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the sidewalk, making choking sounds that were lost in the street noise.
Taylor ignored him.
The big man who’d been reaching for Isabella had to pull up short to avoid tripping over his falling partner. That split-second hesitation broke his momentum, gave him something else to think about besides grabbing the girl.
After striking the first man, Taylor brought up his gun and put two rounds center mass of the second man, just as the big man’s hand started moving toward the inside of his jacket. The sharp gunshot cracks stopped nearly everyone around them for a moment as violence suddenly erupted in their midst.
The big man’s forward motion stopped like he’d hit an invisible wall. A confused expression crossed his face as he looked down at the spreading red stains on his white shirt. Then his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the pavement.
The moment of surprise passed, and pedestrians started screaming, dropping things and running in every direction as the world exploded into chaos.
Lopez had Isabella at the SUV, yanking the rear door open and practically throwing her inside. She hit the seat hard, her knee banging against the center console as Lopez shoved her down below the window line. He slammed the door and dove for the driver’s seat.
The two flanking attackers saw their plan falling apart. They’d been counting on a quick, quiet grab. Now they had two men down, their target was in an armored vehicle, and witnesses were running in every direction. They went for their weapons, no longer concerned about keeping things quiet.
The one nearest the newsstand got his pistol out first, a compact semi-automatic that he brought up in a two-handed grip. He fired three rounds at the SUV’s driver-side window as Lopez cranked the engine. The bullets sparked off the bulletproof glass, leaving spiderweb cracks but not penetrating.
His partner took cover behind a concrete planter filled with decorative palms, leaning out to fire at Taylor. The rounds zipped past, one close enough that Taylor felt the pressure wave against his cheek. He dropped behind a stone pillar that supported the building’s entrance canopy, chips of concrete raining down as bullets hammered the opposite side.
Lopez stomped on the accelerator while throwing the vehicle into drive. The SUV’s tires screamed against the pavement, laying down black rubber as the vehicle lurched forward. He cranked the wheel hard left, sideswiping a parked Toyota with a grinding screech of metal on metal.
More rounds slammed into the SUV’s armor plating as the SUV took off, weaving between parked cars as he fought to build speed. A bullet punched through the rear window’s upper corner where the armor was thinnest, showering the interior with glass fragments.
Taylor couldn’t return fire while he was pinned down behind the pillar. Every time he shifted position, the attacker behind the planter would send another burst his way. But he could hear the other shooter still engaging the SUV, trying to disable it before it could escape. That was the immediate threat.
He broke from cover, not away from the gunfire but toward it, sprinting for a white delivery van parked at the curb. Rounds cracked behind him, one tugging at his jacket as it passed through the fabric without hitting flesh. He slid behind the van’s front wheel, using the engine block for protection.
From this angle, he had a clear line of sight to the attacker shooting at Lopez. The man was focused entirely on the SUV, tracking it with his weapon as it weaved through traffic. He never saw Taylor lean around the van’s front bumper.
Taylor fired three rounds. The first caught the attacker in the right thigh, spinning him partially around. The second and third hit him in the side as he turned, punching through ribs and vital organs. The man’s pistol clattered across the sidewalk as he collapsed, clutching at his leg while blood pooled beneath him.
Lopez made the corner at the end of the block, the SUV’s rear end sliding wide as he fought to maintain control through the turn. The vehicle disappeared from view, though Taylor could still hear its engine roaring as Lopez accelerated down the next street.
At least the girl was safe.
The remaining attacker behind the planter had stopped firing, probably reloading. Taylor could see the man’s shoulder and part of his head visible around the concrete edge. The angle wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
He pushed up from behind the van and started running, not directly at the attacker but toward a sedan parked three spaces down. The gunman popped up from behind the planter, swinging his weapon to track Taylor’s movement. Muzzle flashes blinked as he fired, bullets punching through the sedan’s windows, creating a cascade of breaking glass.
Taylor dove behind the car, feeling the impacts through the vehicle’s frame as rounds slammed into the opposite side. He rolled to his left, coming up at the rear wheel where he had an angle past the trunk.
The attacker was still focused on where Taylor had gone to ground, firing at the sedan’s midsection. He never registered that Taylor had shifted position until it was too late.
Taylor steadied his weapon against the car’s trunk and fired once. The round caught the attacker just below his right eye, snapping his head back in a spray of blood and bone. The man dropped straight down behind the planter, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers.