Previous: Satan’s Laugh Part 2 – Convoy
His body was on fire – especially his right foot – but that was like saying a blow torch was hotter than a glowing red coal. He felt like he’d been under the treads of a tank, and wasn’t sure how he ended up here. A weak attempt to open his eyes did no good. Something was blocking his vision. He was vaguely conscious of some background noise, but his mind was so clouded he couldn’t quite make sense of it. The one noise he could make out was the distinctive whirr a … Read the rest
Previous – Part 1: Packing Up
Jim picked up his M9, loaded a round in the chamber, dropped the
hammer, pulled the magazine, and added an extra round from a few loose
ones he kept in one of the pouches on his vest. There were three more
magazines in various locations across his gear, all of them full, none
of them ever used. The handgun was a backup, and he’d never needed it.
Without having to even look, he quickly secured the pistol in the
holster attached to mollie straps on the left side of his chest.
He next picked … Read the rest
He sat on the edge of his cot, rifling through the papers that had been collecting in the small corner of the hooch he used as an office. Reports, maps, dossiers, printed emails… worthless — all of it. As he worked through a drawer full of folders, only glancing at one after another before adding the contents to a growing pile, he paused on a rather thin one and pulled out the few papers that were inside. These he would keep, nothing else. Setting them aside, he grabbed the rest in single motion and threw them down on the discard … Read the rest