Dead Drop (A Spider Shepherd Short Story) - Plot & Excerpts
Afghanistan. Dan ‘Spider’ Shepherd shifted position slightly, trying to ease the pressure from the rocks beneath him and the ammo belt pressing into his chest. He lay prone, scanning the terrain through his sniperscope. A rough dirt road ran along the foot of the hillside below their observation post, leading to the village away to the east, a cluster of mud-brick buildings, surrounded by terraced fields, thick with the vivid pink blooms of opium poppies. The heat was ferocious, rising in waves from the stony hillside around them, while high above vultures were circling on the thermals, the feathers at their wingtips extended like claws as they flexed in the updraft. Shepherd could feel beads of sweat trickling down his brow, the salt and the moisture attracting still more of the flies that had been buzzing around them since they set up the OP. ‘Instead of lying there scratching your arse, Geordie,’ Shepherd said. ‘Can you not use your ninja skills to catch a few of these bloody flies?’ Geordie Mitchell, lying next to him on the rock ledge, gave him a sideways look.
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