He was suppose to protect his heart, not lose his own...
Callen has always had a stoke of luck with everything. The ladies to his missions, he succeeded in them all.
But all Callens luck strikes out, Literally...
When a daring mission cost his life...
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Callen Dawson was fighting for his life, and loving every minute of it.
Rain ran in rivulets down his face, his combats a cold second skin. The ship lurched beneath his feet, making if difficult to stand. Yet through it all a grin split his face from ear to ear. He fired two more shots at his target, missed, he shot two more. All around him men fought similar battles, but Callen ignored the stench of blood and fear. Every muscle ached, his eyes burned from the mix of salt water and sweat, which was now trickling down his face. This is what he lived for, its what he trained for. Since passing the selection for the Special Air Service (SAS), Callen wanted to help and save people, todays mission was to clear the shipping container of Somalian pirates, and take down the head of the organisation. Abdullahi Baashe. Callen's team had been waiting for the call to come in about this attack for three weeks now, and he wasn't going to let Baashe out of his sight.
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He went to fire another round, but his mag was empty. Shit!
Callen grabbed his machete from his belt and dived forward towards Baashe.
"Give up yet, Abdullghi?" he jeered at his target.
Abdullghi Baashe was one of the most feared pirate on the Kenya border, he sneered right back trying to roll Callen off him, his black eyes gleaming in the cloudy light. "I'll see you in hell first!"
Fat drops of rain pelted Callen as his grin widened. Keeping Baashe pinned beneath him, he swiped them away with a blood splattered hand. "Let me know what it's like then."
"You'll know first," Baashe shot back, kicking Callen off him and drawing his own manchette.
Callen had just enough time to lift his own before Baashe swung down. His palms stung at the clash of the two blades. Once. Twice. Then again and yet again Baashe lashed out. Callen took a step back. And slipped on the rain-slick deck.
His breath escaped him as his back hit the deck. He couldn't breathe, he fought to take in even the tiniest sip of air. Baashe grinned evilly. His blade glinted as he raised it above his head.
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Callen rolled and Abdullghi screeched. The blade sunk into the wooden door just behind where Callen was. Which gave him a chance to get to his feet and catch his breath. Baashe freed his knife and turned towards Callen, they charged one another. Bodies lay around him, the sea raging more and more as the threat of the hurricane neared. Callen pushed the images from his mind, as he fought again.
Then he noticed a subtle difference in Baashe's fighting. His machette wobbled in the air, the hilt moved in his palm, the tip hung a little lower. He was getting tired.
The realisation was power. With renewed strength Callen brought his blade down. Baashe's eyes flicked with momentary fear as he was backed against the ships rail. One more strike and Callen had him bent over the blood splattered floor.
"Arghh," Baashe bellowed a heartbeat later. His free hand clutch at the ragged gash across his cheek. "You'll pay for that!" But the fear in Baashe's gaze lingered. He knew he was a beaten man. Callen knew it as well. He swung his blade in a wide arc. The two connected with a bone rattling crack and Callen saw Baashe's grip loosen. Wielding the blade with all his skill, he closed in for the kill.
Abdullghi's blade flipped through the air and disappeared over the rail to be swallowed by the frothing waves below. Callen threw his head back and roared victorious laughter, he went for the kill, but before he could grab him, Abdullghi threw himself over the edge into the churning sea.
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Callen turned round and faced what was left of his section, his laughter turned full blown - it rang out over the white-tipped waves.
He raised his manchette into the air above him. "We did it boys! We fucking did it! We finally got the bastard! Were invincible!"
The clouds echoed his bellow and a great clash of thunder rang out.
Only a few people saw what happened next, and their words became infamous in SAS history. Time and again the story was told of a luminescent bolt of lightning that streaked down from the heavens, captured Callens blade, then travelled down his arm and into his body - knocking him clean off the deck.
