"The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, and ready mounted are they to spit forth their iron indignation 'gainst your walls"
KING JOHN
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
Pardon me to ask, but who brings a knife to a chicken fight?
I wish it were just knives...I wish it were just guns; our opponents were introducing more Arsenals into the game.
...frags were thrown at our backup vehicles that just arrived; luckily- there were two extra armoured vehicles waiting for us at the North cardinal, right after the woods- on the main road leading into the town... Our exact direction.
It was getting dark, we were more like footballers running far away from the ball instead of running towards it. We were called to prevent, protect and save... but here we are, begging and looking for all the saving we could get on a green wide field.
Tobi, Ibrahim, the other soldiers still alive, few of the rescued protesters and myself ran helplessly for our lives;
The only thing that got us this far- am sure, was the fact that we had each other's backs.
The only thing that reminded us of the heavy down pour were the bucket sized puddles we kept tripping on.
The only time I remember getting this dirty was in boot camp... this feels just like boot camp, the only difference was- this was more than just training, this was more than a test... this was real.
What a mischief!
If I were as superstitious as Tobi, I'd have come to a conclusion that my village people were after me in a Benz with no breaks.
We were being chased by military vans that were- of course, not ours.
The hostiles chased us slowly with their vans; like watching us run was fun, like they were taking their time to kill us- we ran into the woods and hid from flying bullets behind tall trees. We were all out of bullets; and even if we weren't, we were too few to overpower them... "Running for our lives" was our only logical route to safety.
More protesters were killed along the way and of course- more soldiers. The bad guys made sure to decapitate everyone they've killed... I think that was a validation for the number of kills -but they weren't to be blamed, after all,
~ "war gives right to the conquerors to impose any condition they please upon the vanquished!"
JULIUS CAESAR
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
We helped as many causalities as we could, even though they made us sluggish- my rule 101 is "no living soldier should be left behind in whatsoever scenario that plays out!" And this fight wasn't an exception.
I was running out of breath-and maybe life,
I could hear myself breathing heavily,
I could feel my heart pounding for rest... I inhaled cool air but exhaled heat.
A cabillion thoughts ran through my mind,
I know you've heard of the saying "wise women multitask", well- it's as true as the existence of heaven and hell.
So yes, it's highly possible that while running;
I thought about survival mechanisms,
I thought about every possible cause of this event,
I thought about my causal clothes and shoes... if I'll ever get to wear them again,
And, ah... food- I thought about heading straight to Mama Tochi's food tent if I actually did make it out.
"INFILTRATOR"... Am not sure if anyone heard me scream that mid-race, but I bet I didn't murmur that to myself.
Why didn't I think about this earlier?
Nawa Ooo, the numbers have fallen out sequenced now...
I could draw a line with those dots,
This hunt was well calculated.
How did the predators know about our placements?
I mean- who told them where to site Team Charlie?
How did they know about our field eyes?
How did they know how to take us down accordingly?? first was the field eyes, then Team Alpha- the entrance guard, Team Bravo- the snipers and then... the bomb-squad ...
"Watch out sergeants,
We have a bug!" I yelled into my walkie talkie.
CHAPTER END. Free
William Shakespeare- to me, has the most intelligent quotes. They're highly relatable and never out of date.
Meanwhile the Infiltrator get mind ooo.
Please don't forget to read, follow and comment on my book. Thanks.
Chapter 10 is on its way
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ON THE FIELD
Ficção CientíficaON THE FIELD BOOK PREVIEW The story of a Twenty-three year old artist who's only means of self-recognition was to join the Nigerian army. She had no self-esteem... no atom of normal human confidence. She had always thought she was a born sacr...
