18

Captain and I do now. “You better stay alive,” I mouth to myself as the soldier disappears behind a shed. The moment he’s gone, I aim at another insurgent, half hidden by the bomb’s waste, and take him down with a clean shot to the heart. My adrenaline level spikes. Click. Aim. Shoot. The rhythm becomes natural as I lay them to rest one after the other. “Eleven o’clock,” Captain’s voice sounds in my ear. “You take right. I’ll take left.” “Copy that.” I shift in the direction he ordered me to and pause when I see about five insurgents lying on the ground. With shots to the head. Well, damn. Seems that I’ve underestimated the captain’s shooting abilities. I always thought he was merely the strategist. I didn’t know he was an essential operational force, too. I shoot two on the right, then pause when I realize I only killed one and got the other in his shoulder. He escapes, holding his injured arm. I follow his movements and aim. “Don’t!” the captain commands in my ear, but I’ve already t