PRIMAL Unleashed (2) Read Online Free Page B

committed to saving the refugees, even if it meant he had to kill more.
    Bishop was aware he was blatantly breaching his rules of engagement. The UN Mandate hammered through this brain, again and again, the inhumane futility of it. In the distance a woman screamed. A long, shrill scream. Fuck this!he thought. His mind was set and he was not going to dwell on the consequences. Instead he grabbed the ammunition and weapons from the other slain gunmen and hurried back to the UN vehicles.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 4
     
    Refugee Camp
     
    Colonel Kapur stood in shock as Bishop speed-sorted his equipment on the hood of the Land Rover. Checking his map, he identified a concealed route into the refugee camp and stuffed the document back into his thigh pocket. He swiftly stripped the battered G3 assault rifle he had taken from Terminator’s corpse, checking its serviceability. As he methodically inspected the components, Mirza and two of the other soldiers approached.
    Bishop scrutinized the rifle as he spoke, “You know what I have to do.”
    “Yes, Sir,” Mirza murmured, glancing over at the Colonel, then back to Bishop.
    “I can’t ask you to come with me.”
    “Three of us will go with you. The others will stay here and look after the Colonel and the driver.”
    “Be ready to move in two minutes.”
    Bishop reassembled the rifle, satisfied that it would work reliably. He slammed home a magazine and cocked it, placing the other four magazines into the pockets of his shirt and pants. This is the first and last time I go outside the wire without body armor and a rifle , he reminded himself. Hastily, he tied a short length of cord around the stock of the weapon, allowing it to hang from his shoulder. Finally he changed the magazine in his pistol and re-holstered it. Ready for action. He glanced at the Colonel and tossed the thick wad of bribe money at him.
    “Stay here, Sir. If we don’t come back within the hour, leave for Freetown.”
    Kapur nodded, staying silent, horrified at the calm demeanor of the young man who had just slain two teenage gunmen. It was clear what Aden was going to do next.
    Bishop gathered Mirza and the two other soldiers in front of the Bedford truck. “OK, men, we don’t have much time.” Gunshots still echoed intermittently from the direction of the camp and ominously, the screaming had stopped. “We’re going to the camp and we’ll do whatever we must to protect the refugees. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, Sir,” they replied in unison.
    Bishop looked the group over and continued. “I appreciate you all backing me up.” When this was over, Bishop knew that Colonel Kapur would punish them.
    “Sir, we wouldn’t let you go on your own.”
    Bishop gave Mirza a nod, then pulled out his map. “Alright, we’re going to move down this track through the jungle, avoiding the main road. Stay with me, I’ll lead. Understood?” 
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Alright, job's on, let’s roll.”
    Bishop, weapon ready, eyes scanning the thick vegetation, moved swiftly despite the steep slope of the track, sliding through the dark soil and rotting leaf litter. The three other men kept pace, patrolling silently behind him.
    At the bottom of the slope they splashed through a shallow creek before coming to the edge of the jungle. As they reached the thick bushes bordering the camp, they crouched, watching for movement. The first ramshackle wooden huts and white triangular UNHCR tents looked deserted. Behind them, row after row of similar dilapidated shelters stretched for over five hundred meters, bounded on one side by the jungle and on the other by a dirty brown waterway littered with rubbish and plastic containers. In the distance Bishop could make out the hazy green mountains of Guinea, a safe haven for the anti-government militias.
    The screaming had started again and echoed in the distance, but the camp looked empty. It should have been filled with hundreds of refugees.
    He signaled the men to move in.