Surrender in Silk

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Two rescue helicopters swooped down and broke the silence of the night like noisy birds of prey. Spinning blades kicked up sand, dirt and debris, swirling them into a blinding tornado. The powerful military engines were loud enough to wake the dead.

Worse, they would alert the enemy, but everyone expected that.

Zach Jones crouched behind an abandoned shack, his automatic weapon ready to fire. He squinted against the darkness and the cloud stirred up by the choppers, then made a beckoning motion with his left arm.

“Now,” he called to the dozen men waiting behind him. “Get going.”

They moved as one. A low, dark shape-men hunched over to provide a smaller target-slipping like a snake toward safety.

The first burst of gunfire came from the north end of the compound. Zach spun in that direction and pressed his finger on the trigger. Instantly the gun jerked to life, spitting bullets faster than the eye could see. His men sprinted quicker, lower, then broke ranks when one of their own was shot. Zach couldn’t see who had gone down. Damn. They’d already lost too many men on this mission.

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