The loadmaster hopped out and jogged toward the Mack. I hopped down off the hood and went to meet him. He gave me the thumbs up, wanting to know if I was okay. I nodded and he patted me on the shoulder, wanting to get back to the aircraft. Sure, but first there was something I had to check. I walked back past the dented, scorched, pockmarked, twisted hunk of metal that had transported me across the desert, and climbed up into the engine section. Whelt was still there, jammed between the engine housing, the cabin and sheets of gnarled metal. His right foot was bent around so that it looked like it had been attached to his leg back to front. He might have seemed dead but his wounds were bleeding, which suggested otherwise. I felt for a pulse. All things considered, it was strong. I pulled his arm and hoisted him across my shoulders. * “Where do you think you’re going?” said a scowling, petite nurse with a cute button nose and big brown eyes, determined to complete the examination.
What do You think about Standoff: A Vin Cooper Novel?
