Page 2
Story: Bullets and Dandelions
The crowd stared at the body in stunned disbelief.
I quickly took out the guards.
Pops yanked the Marine off the platform and all hell broke loose.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Explosions rocked the compound, and fireballs rose high into the air. Burning debris rained down on the compound, starting even more fires. The freaked-out militants were shooting at anything that moved; be it friend or foe.
I shook my head in disbelief. For blood-thirsty terrorists, they sure scared easily.
Kaboom!A fuel truck went up in flames.
Shit! The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see Pops or the soldier anymore.
A motorcycle suddenly roared out of the compound. Wearing his crazed, kamikaze smile, Pops drove like a maniac. The poor soldier hung on for dear life.
The militants jumped into several battered trucks and chased after them.
I shot out the front right tire on the lead vehicle. It swerved wildly, hit a rock and rolled over. Six militants flew out of the bed of the truck.
The vehicle following it veered to the right trying to miss the bodies littering the ground and ran into a rock wall. The militants in that truck bed were thrown into a row of bee hives.
Thousands of bees erupted from the hives and attacked the militants.
Arms flailing madly, the militants ran for their lives.
I grinned. That should keep them busy. Two down, four to go. I placed the crosshairs on the driver of the third truck.
Thecrackof a high-powered rifle echoed off the mountains.
The driver I had in my crosshairs suddenly slumped over. The vehicle spun out-of-control and smashed into a shepherd’s hut.
What the hell?
Crack!A cargo van slammed into the wall.
Damn. There was another sniper at work. Since the captured soldier was a Marine, I bet one of their Force Recon teams was here to rescue him too. Where was Pops? My eyes widened in horror. Oh, my God, he was heading straight for a cliff. He wouldn’t, would he?
Shooting off the edge of cliff, Pops somehow managed to stay in control of the motorcycle when it landed with a teeth-jarring jolt.
The poor Marine was bug-eyed and white as a ghost. I didn’t blame him. Pops had to be doing at least sixty as he swerved around several boulders and blasted through a herd of sheep.
Some of the dumber militants chased after him. I watched as they sailed off the cliff and went airborne for about thirty seconds before crashing into a dry riverbed.Kablooey!The vehicles exploded; rocketing shards of metal flew in every direction.
Between the smoke and flames, I lost sight of Pops. He probably had another vehicle tucked away. I swung my scope back to the burning compound. Several militants were yelling into their radios. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind they were calling in reinforcements. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.
Chapter Two
The wail of the wind was broken only by the whomp-whomp of an old Huey helicopter searching for Pops and the Marine. From the brief coded message Pops sent me, I knew they were safe. Me? Not so much.
It was another eight miles to my pickup point and getting there was going to be fun. The Taliban militants were everywhere and there was a sandstorm coming. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught out in the open when it hit.
I quickly took out the guards.
Pops yanked the Marine off the platform and all hell broke loose.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Explosions rocked the compound, and fireballs rose high into the air. Burning debris rained down on the compound, starting even more fires. The freaked-out militants were shooting at anything that moved; be it friend or foe.
I shook my head in disbelief. For blood-thirsty terrorists, they sure scared easily.
Kaboom!A fuel truck went up in flames.
Shit! The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see Pops or the soldier anymore.
A motorcycle suddenly roared out of the compound. Wearing his crazed, kamikaze smile, Pops drove like a maniac. The poor soldier hung on for dear life.
The militants jumped into several battered trucks and chased after them.
I shot out the front right tire on the lead vehicle. It swerved wildly, hit a rock and rolled over. Six militants flew out of the bed of the truck.
The vehicle following it veered to the right trying to miss the bodies littering the ground and ran into a rock wall. The militants in that truck bed were thrown into a row of bee hives.
Thousands of bees erupted from the hives and attacked the militants.
Arms flailing madly, the militants ran for their lives.
I grinned. That should keep them busy. Two down, four to go. I placed the crosshairs on the driver of the third truck.
Thecrackof a high-powered rifle echoed off the mountains.
The driver I had in my crosshairs suddenly slumped over. The vehicle spun out-of-control and smashed into a shepherd’s hut.
What the hell?
Crack!A cargo van slammed into the wall.
Damn. There was another sniper at work. Since the captured soldier was a Marine, I bet one of their Force Recon teams was here to rescue him too. Where was Pops? My eyes widened in horror. Oh, my God, he was heading straight for a cliff. He wouldn’t, would he?
Shooting off the edge of cliff, Pops somehow managed to stay in control of the motorcycle when it landed with a teeth-jarring jolt.
The poor Marine was bug-eyed and white as a ghost. I didn’t blame him. Pops had to be doing at least sixty as he swerved around several boulders and blasted through a herd of sheep.
Some of the dumber militants chased after him. I watched as they sailed off the cliff and went airborne for about thirty seconds before crashing into a dry riverbed.Kablooey!The vehicles exploded; rocketing shards of metal flew in every direction.
Between the smoke and flames, I lost sight of Pops. He probably had another vehicle tucked away. I swung my scope back to the burning compound. Several militants were yelling into their radios. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind they were calling in reinforcements. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.
Chapter Two
The wail of the wind was broken only by the whomp-whomp of an old Huey helicopter searching for Pops and the Marine. From the brief coded message Pops sent me, I knew they were safe. Me? Not so much.
It was another eight miles to my pickup point and getting there was going to be fun. The Taliban militants were everywhere and there was a sandstorm coming. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught out in the open when it hit.
Table of Contents
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