The Odd Angry Shot Read Online Free Page A

with his hand indicating a patch of bamboo on the ground. Shaw moves down behind me. It looks calm enough. Turn your rifle on its side; one last look; half cock it—yep, one up the spout. The gold cartridge looks reassuring.
    â€˜Ready—go,’ I scream as I leap from the skid. A sensation of falling and landing in a heap on the ground—nothing broken. My hands are covered in mud.
    Confusion. Rotors are deafening. One quick wave to the pilot and the chopper lifts away, dragging its nose again. We’re in business.
    Shaw edges his way into the bamboo ahead, me next, then Rogers. Harry’s tail-end Charlie. Peer into the growth. Starting to sweat—our clothes are drenched.
    Halt, thumbs down. Jesus Christ, a contact this early in the piece. Shaw smiles back at me over his shoulder and makes the thumbs up sign. Thank Christ, it’s the battalion. I feel a twinge in the pit of my stomach. Relief. Look back over my shoulder. Harry grins stupidly.
    â€˜What a ragged-arse bunch,’ whispers Rogers to me.
    A young second lieutenant comes forward to meet us, handshakes.
    â€˜Golonka,’ he says.
    â€˜That’s not the password,’ says Rogers.
    â€˜That’s my name, soldier.’
    I grin.
    â€˜OK, sir, what’s the situation?’
    Golonka, who looks as if he hasn’t slept for days, pulls a map, plastic covered, from his shirt pocket. His clothes are covered with a film of red-brown mud.
    â€˜See this rise here?’
    â€˜Yep.’
    â€˜Well, we suspect that there are about twenty or thirty nogs dug in about forty or fifty yards from it, about here,’ points with a grubby finger.
    â€˜VC or NVA?’ asks Harry.
    â€˜Who gives a fuck what they are. They all want to kill you,’ Golonka replies.
    â€˜S’pose you’re right,’ says Harry, resigning himself to the ninety-day-wonder’s logic.
    â€˜Why not call in an air strike?’ asks Shaw hopefully.
    â€˜Want to find out what they’ve got in there. We suspect it’s weapons and food cache. Might be some documents too.’
    â€˜OK. When do you want to move out?’ I ask.
    â€˜Soon as you like. You’re scouting for us, you know.’
    â€˜Who’s the forward scout?’
    I indicate Shaw.
    â€˜OK. Let’s go.’ I push myself into a standing position.
    SHAW is on the point. Slowly. Watch where you’re walking. Don’t want to blow our balls off with one of those jumping jacks do we?
    Check the map, almost there.
    Thumbs down. We’ve arrived. My lips are dry.
    Christ I’m thirsty.
    Shaw turns, holds up five fingers, closes his fist, then five more again.
    Shit, only ten. Something’s wrong.
    CRASH…What? Shaw starts to scream, bent double. Gutshot.
    Down flat onto the mud. Raise your eyes and peer ahead into the foliage.
    â€˜Contact front,’ screams Harry.
    The world bursts open right in front of your face.
    Shaw is still screaming—a long open-mouthed scream and his legs are moving as though he is trying to run away. Leaves, branches fall around you.
    â€˜Is it a contact or an ambush?’ screams Golonka.
    Rounds crack over our heads from the left hand side of the track. More wood chips fly into the air. One hits your hand, takes off a layer of skin.
    â€˜Ambush,’ screams Golonka.
    â€˜See if you can get Shaw,’ yells Harry.
    â€˜Cover me and don’t shoot me in the arse.’
    Rogers moves towards Shaw, grabs him by the collar. He’s still screaming.
    I can taste the sweat as it drips from my nose. Salty.
    I think I’m going to be sick. My stomach contracts.
    â€˜Shit. Please God, don’t let me be killed.’
    â€˜Medic! Medic!’ comes from behind me. Someone else has been hit.
    I turn the safety catch on my rifle to full automatic and let the whole twenty-eight rounds go into the shrubs on the side of the track, golden cartridge cases fly into the air. The jerking in my