Read The 39 Clues: Unstoppable Book 2: Breakaway for Free Online Page A

extra helping of their father’s most prized, most hoarded possession — his time. The winner sat in his meetings, listened to his plans, helped him conspire. The loser was shut out.
    Of course, sometimes Cara wasn’t sure what she wanted more — her father’s favor or to wipe the vicious smirk off of her brother’s face.
    Cara dropped into her own stance, but before she could make a move there was a blur of movement followed by a crunching impact to her jaw. The world flipped and Cara found herself on her back. She cursed herself for her distraction and leaped back to her feet. She managed a quick roundhouse kick that connected with Galt’s side but he flashed away.
    Galt had always been fast and strong, but in the last few weeks, he seemed to border on inhuman. One minute he was safely on her left, and then without warning he was on her right, sending a punch flying toward her temple. Cara got a few punches in but they came more and more infrequently while Galt bounced back from them faster every time.
    Always, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that black camera tracking them.
    Cara spun away from another crushing blow. Along with her father’s favors came the lectures. Survival of the fittest is what he always said. Winners rose to the top through hard work and God-given talent. And losers? All they were good for was doing the bidding of the winners.
    Cara had an idea. Instead of circling away from Galt as their sensei had taught, she slid straight back from him, dodging a flurry of blows. Galt growled as he came at her, working himself into a frenzy, his eyes ablaze.
    That’s right,
Cara thought.
Keep coming. You may be strong and fast, but it’s time to see which one of us is smart.
    Cara slowed and let him land a right on her side. It was like taking a freight train in the ribs. Cara stifled a scream and responded with a worthless punch and then a side kick that went nowhere. Galt laughed and landed a stunning combination. Right left right. Straight kick. Roundhouse. Cara’s breath left her in a rush and she went down in a heap.
    Galt stood before her, hands on his hips, self-satisfied grin flashing. Cara crawled over to the weapons rack and grabbed the top rail. She slowly pulled herself up, finally making it to her knees and draping her arms over the lip of the wooden rack. She didn’t have to fake it now. Every inch of her body throbbed with pain.
    Galt sauntered over, reveling in the opportunity to mock her. “Need some help there, sis?”
    Cara looked over her shoulder. The black surveillance camera in the corner was right on them. Galt was holding out his hand, cocky smile burning. Cara smiled right back.
    “Nope.”
    Cara swept a bamboo sword out of the rack and swung with all her might. Galt’s eyes went wide as the shaft whistled through the air.
    “Hey! This isn’t a weapons drill! Cara!”
    Cara laughed as her brother retreated, varying her strikes to keep him off balance. She went right, then left, a hard jab to the stomach with the sword point to knock the wind out of him, and then a spinning kick to his side. Galt went down with a cry and Cara stood over him, triumphant, her bare foot on his stomach, the sword at his throat.
    “Okay!” Galt cried. “You win! I surrender!”
    “You get overconfident, bro,” Cara said with a smile of her own. “Get to thinking you’re invincible when you’re not.”
    “Funny,” Galt said. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
    “What do you — ?”
    Before Cara could react, the sword was out of her hands and in Galt’s. And he was back on his feet.
How did he —
Galt whirled the sword like a helicopter blade, gaining momentum before slamming it into Cara’s side, and shoulder, and back. Each strike was perfectly aimed, hitting a jutting bone or a nerve point. Cara feinted left and then moved right, but the bamboo blade came out of nowhere, sending her crashing into the wooden rack.
    When she managed to look up, Galt was