Page 77 of Wild Idol
Solomon didn’t reply.
The mystery man began his wicked countdown. “5… 4…”
From my position, I had a clear line of sight on the mystery man’s head. He was protecting himself from Solomon’s men. But he didn’t anticipate someone coming up from behind.
I gave a subtle look to Jack. He knew exactly what to do.
43
The deadly countdown continued.
“3…
“2…”
I steadied myself, drew a breath, and held it. My finger squeezed the trigger, and the rifle hammered against my shoulder. The jungle lit up with muzzle flash, and the 7.62mm round sped through the thick air. It drilled into the mystery man’s skull, painting the nearby tree with his brains.
The mystery man slumped and fell away as Whisper screamed in terror, her face speckled with blood. She trembled and shivered.
I swept my barrel to the right and pulled the trigger again twice as I lined up another one of the mercenaries. My bullets tagged him in the head as he spun around, trying to locate the source of the sniper fire.
He fell into the underbrush as JD tagged the other two mercs.
Within a matter of seconds, that threat had been neutralized—though Solomon and his men remained.
With caution, we advanced across the undergrowth to the hostages.
JD joined Whisper. “Are you okay?”
Whisper nodded, her face still contorted, tears streaming down her cheeks. Physically, she was unharmed. Mentally, she was far from okay.
She flung her arms around Jack and held on tight.
I checked the other goons for vitals to make sure the threat had truly been neutralized.
Jack told Whisper to stay put while we advanced to the back of a nearby structure. We angled around and peered down the pathway.
There was no sign of Solomon or his goons.
My eyes scanned the jungle.
The area looked clear.
JD and I darted across the path to the next structure and held up. I crept to the corner and angled my rifle around.
It was clear.
Jack and I rounded the corner, advanced down the length of the building, and paused at the next corner.
From there, I got an angle on Solomon‘s position. He was on the ground, leaning against one of the structures, clutchinghis belly with one hand and his rifle with the other. Blood seeped through his fingers, and he labored for breath. The bodies of his security team lay strewn about in pools of blood. From what I could tell, Solomon was the only one of the team left.
I shouted at him. “Put the weapon down, Solomon. The threat has been neutralized. You need medical attention.”
“Fuck you!”
“If that’s how you feel, I’m happy to leave you to your fate.” I paused for a moment. “Last chance!”
“I’ll see you in hell, Tyson Wild,” he shouted back.
