Chapter 8 - Freefall Drop (1/2)
14,000 feet above Country P, a Cessna aircraft hid above the clouds, carrying a troop dressed in an all-black tactical military combat uniform, ready for a freefall drop to the ground.
”Who let the dogs out!” the team leader screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice almost got caught with the altitude.
”Wooooh! Wooooh! Woooh!” half a dozen men stood in attention, their feet together and their arms at their sides, as they line in a row and screamed in unison.
Their leader slapped each man on the b.u.t.t.o.c.k.s, and on cue, those men jumped out of the aircraft. When the leader was the only person left, he took one deep breath and made a sign of the cross. He wiggled his body, craned his neck left and right, and took a leap to his impending fate.
Down below, a big patch of green was their designated dropzone and 60 seconds later, one by one the skydivers pulled the tab to their parachute and glide their way into safety. Once they landed in a safe zone, the team of half a dozen men removed their parachutes and made a formation towards the middle of the jungle.
The wild jungle grass that reached the men's h.i.p.s bow down with their every step. Midway, the leader wheezed when he felt something sting his forearm yet he kept his fighting stance with his hand gripping tight on his pistol and his finger ready to pull the trigger anytime.
After a while of sweeping the area, the team ended up at the heart of the jungle where they found a dilapidated building complete with torn down roof, windows with broken panes, and perhaps a lost ghost or two too.
The man in the front line raised his hand and signaled for his team to halt. With his two fingers up in the air, he gave his instructions on where his team would go. Their search party didn't take long as they found their way to the culmination of their mission - rescuing a hostage. The leader carried the hostage out of the building, however, a red laser swept his teammate's head and a round of gunshot battle ensued. The rescue team continued to find their way out to their sticky situation, occasionally firing back to their attackers.
Before they reached the exit, the leader passed the hostage to a teammate and decided to stay behind to stall their time. A menacing glint flashed in the leader's eyes as he mentally noted how many souls he had to put to rest that day and one after the other, bodies dropped on the floor.
A quick glance would not be enough as his eyes alone could make one's breathing hitch… what with those dreamy clear blue eyes that could trap anyone's soul who made contact with it. And as if the gods were not satisfied with his eyes alone, they blessed him with prominent cheekbones and a square jaw that made his cheek dip and form angular shapes on his face. His thick black brows softened the angles of his face and his golden curly hair in a crew cut style added a touch of playfulness to balance it all.
Maxen Victor Eton Sui, 32 years old, youngest Colonel of the Armed Forces of Country P and the last male descendant of the Sui Family… for now. *wink*
His lips pursed into a devilishly handsome smirk. His aura oozing with nobility and fearlessness that even the microscopic insects bowed down to his passing figure. His teammates and other military officials welcomed him with a round of applause for another successful jungle hostage rescue mission training.
”You don't have to go back and kill them all!” Wyatt, a platoon commander, exclaimed as he scratched his head when he saw his men squint in pain with their hands on their necks where Maxen shot them; the only exposed spot of their bodies.
This childhood friend of his sure had a knack for a one-strike kill fashion.