them in all, most with badly burned arms and legs-be-91
came hysterical. The majority of them started running down the bridge and into the hayfields beyond. Yet several of them turned and began running back toward the flaming village.
Acting quickly, Hunter laid the unconscious woman down as gently as possible, and then took off after the kids.
He caught them at the foot of the bridge, and corraling all five of them, he led them back out of the flaming town. Several mild slaps to the face revived the woman, and within a half minute, she was able to follow the children over the bridge and away from the danger.
Now, once again, Hunter began to run back toward the village.
But then several strange things happened.
First of all, he suddenly became aware of a large force of armed men moving up the side of a hilly dune about a half mile from him. There were at least twenty of them, and oddly, each man seemed to be trying to race the others to be the first to the top of the mound. What's more, several of them were blowing loud and flat-toned bugles as they rushed up the dune.
But even stranger, there was something flying right above them. It appeared very small at first-just a black speck in the sky, performing a tight turn not a hundred feet over the bluff.
"What the hell is that?" Hunter wondered aloud.
Then, as he was staring at the action on the hill, he heard an unbelievable, ungodly shriek. Spinning on his heels, he turned toward the sound; it was coming from the east, from out over the ocean, and it was getting louder by the second.
Hunter squinted into the dusky sky; the very air itself seemed to be aflame, lit up by the flames from the burning village.
Then he saw it.
It was too small to be a rocket or a missile, but it was traveling at least as fast. It was silver and almost gleaming
92
in the reflection of the flames. Within a second of spotting it, it slammed right into the gang of armed men that had been scrambling up the hill.
The resulting explosion was so intense, it knocked Hunter off his feet. He could feel the very earth itself rumbling as a result of the projectile's impact. The ground beneath him was shaking like an earthquake. A shock wave passed over that was so strong, he thought his eardrums would burst.
And then, everything was suddenly quiet.
Hunter lifted his head and saw that not only had the force of enemy soldiers disappeared in the smoke and flame of the projectile's impact, but the large hill, as well as the small forest of beach scrub trees that had surrounded it, was gone, too, obliterated in the blast.
All that was left was an enormous crater of frightening proportions.
Hunter got to his feet just as three militiamen ran out of the village and up onto the bridge. One of them recognized him.
At that moment, they all heard an odd, buzzing sound. Looking back toward the crater, Hunter saw that the aerial speck he had spotted before was now heading right for them.
"What the hell is that thing?" one of the militiamen yelled, raising his weapon.
In an instant, Hunter realized that the strange flying object was actually an RPV-a remotely piloted vehicle-a small unmanned aircraft usually equipped with a TV camera and used to scout out enemy positions.
Before they could say another word, the RPV flashed over their heads, turned sharply to the east, and headed out to sea.
Within a few seconds, it was gone.
Hunter and the three militiamen made their way back down the bridge and into a ditch next to a small tidal
93
stream. The combination of night and the thick black smoke made it almost impossible to see clearly into the village by this time. Plus, all sounds of weapons firing had ceased.
"What the hell happened?" Hunter asked the soldiers.
"They just hit us out of the blue," one of the men, a sergeant, told him.
"They came from nowhere. I was on duty down by the beach. One moment everything was clear. The next I look up and here's about three dozen guys running up into the
came hysterical. The majority of them started running down the bridge and into the hayfields beyond. Yet several of them turned and began running back toward the flaming village.
Acting quickly, Hunter laid the unconscious woman down as gently as possible, and then took off after the kids.
He caught them at the foot of the bridge, and corraling all five of them, he led them back out of the flaming town. Several mild slaps to the face revived the woman, and within a half minute, she was able to follow the children over the bridge and away from the danger.
Now, once again, Hunter began to run back toward the village.
But then several strange things happened.
First of all, he suddenly became aware of a large force of armed men moving up the side of a hilly dune about a half mile from him. There were at least twenty of them, and oddly, each man seemed to be trying to race the others to be the first to the top of the mound. What's more, several of them were blowing loud and flat-toned bugles as they rushed up the dune.
But even stranger, there was something flying right above them. It appeared very small at first-just a black speck in the sky, performing a tight turn not a hundred feet over the bluff.
"What the hell is that?" Hunter wondered aloud.
Then, as he was staring at the action on the hill, he heard an unbelievable, ungodly shriek. Spinning on his heels, he turned toward the sound; it was coming from the east, from out over the ocean, and it was getting louder by the second.
Hunter squinted into the dusky sky; the very air itself seemed to be aflame, lit up by the flames from the burning village.
Then he saw it.
It was too small to be a rocket or a missile, but it was traveling at least as fast. It was silver and almost gleaming
92
in the reflection of the flames. Within a second of spotting it, it slammed right into the gang of armed men that had been scrambling up the hill.
The resulting explosion was so intense, it knocked Hunter off his feet. He could feel the very earth itself rumbling as a result of the projectile's impact. The ground beneath him was shaking like an earthquake. A shock wave passed over that was so strong, he thought his eardrums would burst.
And then, everything was suddenly quiet.
Hunter lifted his head and saw that not only had the force of enemy soldiers disappeared in the smoke and flame of the projectile's impact, but the large hill, as well as the small forest of beach scrub trees that had surrounded it, was gone, too, obliterated in the blast.
All that was left was an enormous crater of frightening proportions.
Hunter got to his feet just as three militiamen ran out of the village and up onto the bridge. One of them recognized him.
At that moment, they all heard an odd, buzzing sound. Looking back toward the crater, Hunter saw that the aerial speck he had spotted before was now heading right for them.
"What the hell is that thing?" one of the militiamen yelled, raising his weapon.
In an instant, Hunter realized that the strange flying object was actually an RPV-a remotely piloted vehicle-a small unmanned aircraft usually equipped with a TV camera and used to scout out enemy positions.
Before they could say another word, the RPV flashed over their heads, turned sharply to the east, and headed out to sea.
Within a few seconds, it was gone.
Hunter and the three militiamen made their way back down the bridge and into a ditch next to a small tidal
93
stream. The combination of night and the thick black smoke made it almost impossible to see clearly into the village by this time. Plus, all sounds of weapons firing had ceased.
"What the hell happened?" Hunter asked the soldiers.
"They just hit us out of the blue," one of the men, a sergeant, told him.
"They came from nowhere. I was on duty down by the beach. One moment everything was clear. The next I look up and here's about three dozen guys running up into the
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