Cole: The Wounded Sons, Leah Sharelle [the reading list .TXT] 📗

a small animal enclosure just in time before a powerful spotlight flashed over right beside me. Falling to my stomach, I flattened myself to the ground, going still as the beam of light made two passes two clicks to my right. Rolling to my left as soon as the light flashed the other way, I made three more rolls and made it to another small outbuilding, then quickly scurried inside the doorway.

“I am fucking going to knock your teeth in, Deke, after I save your arse,” I growled low in my throat, taking one of my sidearms from my side holster and quickly checking that it was loaded and the safety was off.

A loud pained yelp came from a small glassless window at the bottom of the building where I suspected Deke was imprisoned. Loud bickering in Somali came from the same small opening, I wasn’t fluent by any means, but I knew what ‘dil’ meant.

Kill him.

Not letting my amped-up heartbeat affect me, I scrambled to my feet and sprinted in the direction of the window. My planned surprise was now out of the question. Now all I could do was go in and kill as many as I could with the firepower I had on me.

The spotlight flashed directly on me, followed by a burst of flashing rounds from a semi-automatic weapon. Ducking down, I kept running while dodging bullets; I made my way to the square entry, and saying a prayer, I aimed and flew through the opening headfirst, my gun at the ready.

Landing on my feet in a crouched position, gathering my bearings quickly, I fired at the first rebel in my sights. His weapon was slouched over his shoulder, but in his hand was a crude version of a baseball bat. My keen powers of observation caught the smear of blood dripping down the wood, and at the tip, nails were poking out, making it into some form of torture weapon.

Fucking arsehole.

“Signal! Position!” I shouted over the firing of bullets, frantic to seek Deke out so I didn’t accidentally shoot him.

“At your three o’clock, Ghost,” Deke shouted back at me, his voice was weaker than usual, but he was alive.

We used our mission names whenever the enemy was in close contact; the less they knew about us, the less they could use against us.

“You bound?” I yelled again, kicking away the gun from the fallen assailant at the same time shooting another one in the chest.

“No, but I don’t think I’m going to be much use,” Deke admitted grimly.

“You can shoot still, right?” Tossing my gun to Deke, I pulled my knife out of my waistband and flew at another man who’d come through a back door without a weapon.

Wrong decision fuckwit.

Confident that Deke had my back, I rushed the newcomer with my knife pointed directly at him. Ploughing my shoulder into him, I pushed my knife deep into his chest all the way to the tang, turning my wrist to make sure the blade caused as much internal damage as possible. Shots fired behind me, and the thud of bodies dropping gave me the breather I needed to be sure that we just might make it out alive.

Yanking my arm back, I pulled the knife out of the meaty flesh of the rebel’s abdomen and watched his eyes roll back in his head before he slumped to the dirt floor. It might be sick and twisted, but I didn’t miss the flair of achievement that I felt as the man took his last gurgled, thready breath of life. Killing wasn’t a joy, not in the least, but saving my team brother was. It was a simple choice at the end of the day—kill or be killed.

“Down to three rounds, Ghost,” Deke warned, as the room suddenly became quiet. Using my foot, I pushed at the body to make sure that he was, in fact, dead before taking my eyes off him to look over at Deke.

“Fuck Signal, didn’t you put up any fight at all?” Gawking at his beaten and bloody face.

“They had me tied up until ten minutes ago, arsehole,” he growled, holding up his middle finger at me, then let out a hiss of pain. “They were planning on moving me until all hell broke out.”

“SEALS,” I clipped, shaking my head.

“Fucking typical noisy bastards,” Deke chuckled, then lapsed into a coughing fit that sent off an alarm bell in my brain.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here brother, the yanks have things in hand out there; on the other hand, you need medical attention.” Hurrying over to the Deke, I hooked my arm through his and hauled him to his feet as carefully as I could but aware that I had to get us moving and quickly.

“Sorry mate, but we don’t have time to do an assessment of your injuries until we get a safe distance from here,” I explained, moving him to the window. “The HLZ is a good hour from here, mate, so I am sorry, but you have to move fast.”

“Right, fast, no worries,” Deke huffed, but he leaned on me and continued to move. I heard his pain, felt it in his weight as he allowed me to take the brunt of it.

“This is going to hurt, mate, so don’t scream, or I will tell Ammo and he will give you shit for it forever.” Without waiting for a reply, I lifted Deke and unceremoniously tossed him through the window.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” Deke grunted as he fell on the other side. “You fucking cunt, Ghost!”

Jumping through myself, I landed quietly and easily on my feet, a small deep chuckle leaving my lips.

“I told you it was going to hurt,” I laughed, then reached down and once again hauled him back to his feet.

“Next time, tell me that you are going to toss me like a sack of spuds.”

“Next time, don’t fucking act like a fucking renegade and think you are invincible, and I won’t