Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Angel Of The Lord (Part 6) Blog Novel
PREVIOUSLY:
PLEASE CLICK HERE TO VIEW 'ANGEL OF THE LORD PART 5
Mike’s right landed flush on the midriff. The two feet of the target lifted as he toppled backwards whence he came running. The stricken eyes flashed both rage and alarm. An ugly thud echoed after the anguished grunt from his twisted mouth which was framed by rough stubble and yellowed jagged teeth.
Jason Burke shook his head to clear his vision. He thought to extricate himself from the pile. He didn’t wait long before a pair of iron arms coiled around his face and neck to smother him in a steely embrace. Above all Jason couldn’t believe the stink from sweat and grime that enveloped him. The constricting tug on his throat paled in comparison.
Mike wobbled as he landed awkwardly. The enemy he kicked was too out of it and lay sprawled on the ground to need further attention. He turned just in time to catch the second agent draw a bead on him with his gun sight while perched on one knee. It was too late to duck. All Mike could do was squirm and close his eyes in anticipation of the blast.
Jason saw it. The man was ready to fire a round. His body english telegraphed the intent plainly. He saw much of it in the war against the Taliban. There you fired like there was no tomorrow until the weapon felt smoldering hot. Jason tossed the handheld directly at his face. It was with the same pitching arm that carried his high school team to a baseball pennant. The two way radio bounced on the shooter’s nose. The bullet ricocheted on the asphalted avenue..
“Putang ina mo, don’t move or it will be your last, the fourth came running from the sidewalk and poked his pistol at Mike’s flustered face. Mike raised his hands. The agent he kicked to the ground was stirring to life and eyed him with malevolence from hell. Mike chilled at the promised mayhem. He thought to run but the gun barrel locked on his face as the bull’s eye pretty well discouraged him
The enraged bodyguard who grappled Jason’s head with a headlock grew more violent when he saw Jason pitch his device against his partner’s face. He growled and pummeled the back of Jason’s head with his closed fist. This guy’s a damn amateur to be a torturer of women, Jason thought inside. He promptly leaned with all his weight on his right arm and crushed the man’s crotch with his balled fist against the pocked and sharp pebbled roadway where he sat.
The shaken grappler loosened up and howled like a stricken animal. “siyoki pa pala ang amerkanong hayop na to, damn American faggot squeezed my balls, yeeooow”, he tendered his groin and fell back on the flat surface. The one with the bleeding nose straightened up and got ready to mow down the American without thinking anymore of dire consequences. Jason dove like a blur for the Beretta two feet away. In an instant, both of them stood against the other with cocked guns against their faces.
People at the sidelines got awed at the sight of a crumpled Mormon missionary brandishing a gun in a stand off with mean looking thugs. He looked like a proper but disheveled college preppie trying to hold his own against a squad of villainous assassins. They didn’t know that the good looking young man who looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly had raked submachine gun fire on the backs of Taliban ambushers who lay in wait over a gorge in the Afghan desert.
Please click here for Angel Part 7
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