Rise to Victory

Начало книги

"Would you like another cigarette, Ahmad?”

That’s what the unsuspecting fatigue-clad youth had said to him only moments before. Now, Ahmad had the youth in a submission hold from behind, one hand covering his mouth, the other thrusting the serrated knife through the perplexed young man’s throat with little difficulty. The handle vibrated as the blade sliced through flesh, tendon, arteries, and cartilage, emerging from the other side in a spat of dark blood, painting the side of the tent and the damp jungle floor almost black in the night.

Ahmad had always wondered how it would really feel to cut a man’s throat, and now he finally knew as his victim’s teeth and fingernails, previously imbedded in his forearm, started to weaken and the blood and breath quickly escaped the doomed body. As the body went limp, he rolled the head back to check the upturned dead eyes just to be sure. As the head came back, one last grotesque gasp of smoky air was expelled from the severed windpipe, the remnants of the cigarette the two had been sharing mere seconds before.

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