[ GRAB ] for the sender to stop the receiver from falling! — Miller 0:)
All fucking hell had broken loose within a few seconds.
Jacob had already believed this mission to be a damn failure. Of course warlords who guarded some entrance to a secret silo like King claimed could look like shepherds, but this place didn’t look like anything more than a few weapons were stashed here.
Of course he could only voice that opinion to Miller, who was ever at his side. Each of them having the other’s back as they took their place a little further away. But then shit had happened. Enemy forces coming down from the Zagros mountains bordering on this farm at the end of nowhere – and it turned bad quickly.
Miller and he had decided to change positions, only shouted it into their headsets – getting closer to the squad to get a better angle at the attackers up above. Using the huts as cover.
Well… that had been the plan. Because when it was raining it obviously was fucking pouring. The gunshots hailing down around them, explosions and the roaring of failing chopper blades – all that god drowned out when the earth itself moaned as if it was wounded animal. The ground shook and dust rose.
“Shit-!”
Jacob lost his footing and for a moment he couldn’t even realize what was happening. Miller had grabbed his arm and held him, stopped his fall… a fall that would’ve gone down several fucking feet. Because where formerly there had been dry cracked ground… there now was a gaping darkness staring back at him.
Jacob couldn’t even properly breathe in, as he threw himself back – his expression the same as Miller’s. He wasn’t fucking hallucinating. The ground had fucking opened up!
“What the fucking hell is...”
He should thank Miller for saving his fucking life. But he couldn’t. Not when this absolute nonsense didn’t stop. Because there was another rattle crawling through the ground, splitting open more places around them.
Jumping to his feet again, Jacob this time grabbed Miller and tried to push him along. He could catch a glimpse of Kolchek further down the low wall that ran the farm. Kolchek – and someone else. Stranger. Iraqi.