Soft Target

A boot on the face and the tears hit the sand.

The crunch of the teeth and the taste of copper.

A silent curse and a kick in the ribs.

This was something that they were trained for but it was still unexpected, unlooked for, and deeply unwanted.  Out of the blue and into the black guttural hole of despair.  A scream pierced the silent still desert air, rebounded off the dry red rocks and evaporated into the thankless heat locked sky.  He wasn’t sure if it was him screaming or one of his team.

Move, move now, ignore the blood and the grisly remains.

Hands being cuffed harshly behind his back.

Sweat rolling down his forehead, helmet tilted to one side.

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