truck engine at full throttle helped cover his boot falls on the packed dirt. The second truck came into view and he slowed to a walk. He could make out movement in the cab and as he got closer he saw Larry smashing both feet against the shattered glass of the windshield. He was about to sprint across the opening when he saw movement at the front of the truck. A man approached, ducking around the still spinning front wheel. The approaching lights silhouetted him for a moment and Jack saw the outline of a large man. Not skinny like the locals. An American? The man raised his weapon and Jack saw the familiar outline of an AK-47. Larry didn’t see him through the cracked glass. The man stepped forward and took aim at Larry.
• • •
The Deliveryman with the hired guns was at first pleased with the accuracy of the gunman. He watched as the bullets shattered the glass in front of the driver, thereby improving their chances greatly. This changed to a look of horror as the truck sped up and swerved right at them. He saw no one in the passenger side and the driver was obviously dead at the wheel. But wait, the top of the passenger’s head could be seen in the faint light provided by the muzzle flashes.
“Shoot him, you idiots!” he screamed at them. But like most bandits, they lacked the discipline of trained soldiers and had expelled their first magazines and were now reloading. The truck gained on them quickly and he realized they had nowhere to run. He grabbed the device at his feet by its handle and retreated to the doorway of the building.
“Keep shooting!” he screamed at them before firing a burst from his own weapon. He left them pinned in place, all of them thinking they could stop the big truck if they just pumped enough bullets into it. The Deliveryman knew better and retreated into the concrete structure to escape the coming impact. He took shelter behind a large pillar. He heard the scream of the passenger just before the truck impacted the building, crushing two of the ambushers against it and pinning a third to the wall. As the sound of the impact subsided, it was replaced by the pinned man’s screams. He used the noise to cover his escape out the back and began circling around the building, looking for a way back to the truck that would provide him concealment. The mission had just changed.
• • •
Larry felt the frame of the windshield finally give way and he turned his head away from the flying glass as it fell into the street. He was reaching for the frame to pull himself through when he saw movement over him. Looking up, he saw a large man with an equally large rifle pointed at him. Larry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the word out the man’s face exploded into a mist and his body fell forward to land in Larry’s lap. He quickly pushed the bloody mess away and scrambled out of the cab, dragging his too large frame to his knees. He saw a large man moving toward him in the dark and automatically reached for where his sidearm usually was.
It was gone.
Larry dropped to his knees and felt blindly in the shattered glass for the Marine’s rifle, cutting his hands repeatedly. He was about to change his decision to retreat when a voice stopped him.
“Larry, it’s Jack. You okay?” the voice hissed.
Larry realized he had been holding his breath, waiting for the bullets. He now let it out and sucked in another. He pulled himself out of the cab and examined the glass stuck in his palms. If it wasn’t for that he’d of put them together and prayed.
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” he answered.
Jack was now standing over him. “Pull that glass out of your hands. This isn’t over yet. Your driver dead?”
Larry looked the man over. “No, breathing okay. I don’t see any holes in him. He’s unconscious, though.”
“Grab his rifle and gear and follow me. Be quiet,” he added. Jack was already moving toward the sound of the
• • •
The Deliveryman with the hired guns was at first pleased with the accuracy of the gunman. He watched as the bullets shattered the glass in front of the driver, thereby improving their chances greatly. This changed to a look of horror as the truck sped up and swerved right at them. He saw no one in the passenger side and the driver was obviously dead at the wheel. But wait, the top of the passenger’s head could be seen in the faint light provided by the muzzle flashes.
“Shoot him, you idiots!” he screamed at them. But like most bandits, they lacked the discipline of trained soldiers and had expelled their first magazines and were now reloading. The truck gained on them quickly and he realized they had nowhere to run. He grabbed the device at his feet by its handle and retreated to the doorway of the building.
“Keep shooting!” he screamed at them before firing a burst from his own weapon. He left them pinned in place, all of them thinking they could stop the big truck if they just pumped enough bullets into it. The Deliveryman knew better and retreated into the concrete structure to escape the coming impact. He took shelter behind a large pillar. He heard the scream of the passenger just before the truck impacted the building, crushing two of the ambushers against it and pinning a third to the wall. As the sound of the impact subsided, it was replaced by the pinned man’s screams. He used the noise to cover his escape out the back and began circling around the building, looking for a way back to the truck that would provide him concealment. The mission had just changed.
• • •
Larry felt the frame of the windshield finally give way and he turned his head away from the flying glass as it fell into the street. He was reaching for the frame to pull himself through when he saw movement over him. Looking up, he saw a large man with an equally large rifle pointed at him. Larry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the word out the man’s face exploded into a mist and his body fell forward to land in Larry’s lap. He quickly pushed the bloody mess away and scrambled out of the cab, dragging his too large frame to his knees. He saw a large man moving toward him in the dark and automatically reached for where his sidearm usually was.
It was gone.
Larry dropped to his knees and felt blindly in the shattered glass for the Marine’s rifle, cutting his hands repeatedly. He was about to change his decision to retreat when a voice stopped him.
“Larry, it’s Jack. You okay?” the voice hissed.
Larry realized he had been holding his breath, waiting for the bullets. He now let it out and sucked in another. He pulled himself out of the cab and examined the glass stuck in his palms. If it wasn’t for that he’d of put them together and prayed.
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” he answered.
Jack was now standing over him. “Pull that glass out of your hands. This isn’t over yet. Your driver dead?”
Larry looked the man over. “No, breathing okay. I don’t see any holes in him. He’s unconscious, though.”
“Grab his rifle and gear and follow me. Be quiet,” he added. Jack was already moving toward the sound of the
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