Extensis Vitae - By Gregory Mattix Page 0,1

the mic.

They waited until everyone had checked in. Reznik could see a slender column of smoke rising through the trees from a campfire above them. He guessed it to be about fifty yards away.

“Okay, hold your positions… Air strike in T minus five,” the voice announced again. “You won’t hear the drone coming, so once it goes boom, move in and take them out.”

Sweat trickled down Reznik’s back as the minutes seemed to last forever. He was just thinking that it might have been a good idea to take a piss before they had moved up into position when he detected a faint hissing sound, which swiftly became a loud roar. Reznik could see the vapor trail of the missile, and then a deafening explosion rocked the hillside as fire exploded above them. Debris rained down upon the soldiers.

For a brief second, all was quiet, and then everything happened at once. Screams of pain and curses in a foreign tongue rose from the campsite. Nash and others nearby were yelling to attack as they leapt up and charged the campsite.

Reznik reacted instantly, rising and sprinting alongside Nash, making sure to stay lined up with the others at his flank in order to keep their field of fire open.

A dirty, bearded face rose out of the smoke in front of him, and Reznik squeezed off a couple rounds into the man’s chest. As the jihadist fell, Reznik double-tapped him with a bullet to the head for good measure.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Nash was firing to his left, and gunshots were coming from all around him. The smoke slowly began to clear as they entered the campsite.

Reznik saw a muzzle flash ahead of him, and a spray of bullets tore up the ground near his feet. He smoothly pivoted and dropped to a knee, firing a burst into the face of the jihadist that had popped up from cover. The 5.56 mm rounds tore the man’s head apart in a spray of blood.

The gunfire lasted another moment or so, and then it was quiet. Reznik looked around and saw quite a few enemy corpses. Intel had put the number in the camp at about twenty, but it was hard to tell the real number with the amount of body parts strewn about after the missile strike.

Reznik was looking around for Nash and the others when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the corpses had been shoved asides and he saw the barrel of an assault rifle pointing at him. He whipped his M-4 around, but it was too late. The AK-47 gave a bark, and Reznik was thrown to the ground as bullets slammed into his midsection.

His companions returned fire, and a hail of bullets ripped through the wounded jihadist and the corpse that he had been hiding under.

“Man down,” someone called out.

Reznik gasped for breath as a hot knife of pain hammered his side. He fumbled with his vest, trying to unfasten it with hands that were now sticky with blood.

Nash loomed over him. “Let me take a look.” His jaw was clenched as he pushed Reznik’s hands away. He pulled open the body armor and squinted at the damage. “Looks like the ballistic plates took most of it, but one got you in the side here—lucky for you, it looks like it was mainly just a graze.” Nash poked at the wound and Reznik gasped as burning pain raced through his nerves.

“It probably hurts like a bitch, huh?” Nash asked helpfully over Reznik’s groans. “You should be fine, but you’re sure as hell gonna be buying the first round when we get back stateside, asshole.” Reznik suddenly felt cold all over, and the last thing he saw was Nash’s grin before darkness closed in.

***

The man awoke in a cold sweat, thrashing on the stainless steel table. The room and table were chilly, and he could feel goosebumps on his skin as a shiver ran through his body.

He was no longer alone in the room. An attractive young woman turned away from one of the computer terminals at the sound of his thrashing. She had shoulder-length chestnut hair and wore a white lab coat.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” she said as she approached. Her striking green eyes were narrowed with concern as she peered down at him. “I’m Myrna Kane. You must be disoriented, which is normal, I’d imagine.” She looked away and checked his vitals on the