Chapter twenty-five

THE DRIFT Sweat beads ran down the side of Elijah's face, as he fought to keep his mind together. Without the hate he felt inside he probably wouldn't be here, in this wilderness of chaos. Looking around he observed soldiers scattered everywhere some laying on the sand-filled ground never to rise again, others taking cover as they fought to stay alive, the endless rattling of machine guns from the terrorist made all the soldiers take cover. The battlefield was like a flood washing away everything that crossed its path. Suddenly the was silence as the firing ceased, he signaled to his team, taking a deep breath, he listened for movements from the enemy predicting their steps. He opened his eyes, as he heard them proceed to reload, shouting out orders "fire at will, go! go!"  they rushed forward the ground vibrating from the pounding of boots running in unison. * Ding dong, the doorbell rang, Elijah went to open it knowing who it was "my boy! looking good" Michael said giving him