Collusion

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The jihadist seemed to rise from the underworld. Crawling across the Cameroon terrain when he’d reached them before dawn. Navy SEAL Brett Garrett could see the color of his black eyes. Boko Haram. The missing twentieth fighter whom everyone except for Garrett had believed dead. He’d followed them from the bloodbath in his camp. Patiently waiting, watching them board the helicopter, waiting until liftoff, knowing it was his best chance to maximize deaths.

He shouldered his weapon at the same moment Garrett raised his rifle from his seat inside the open cargo door. Garrett fired and in that same instant saw the rocket-propelled grenade flying at the cockpit.

A bright yellow burst. Instant loss of hearing. Instant concussion. Instant confusion. The machine fell. Its shell smacking into the earth, throwing Garrett free but on fire.

Still conscious enough to roll over, over, and over again. What of the others? He didn’t know. He’d disobeyed a direct order. He was responsible for what was now happening. But he’d done it for the right reasons.

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