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THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM.

Spurt!

Clark pulled his spear out of his opponent’s chest as the executioner vomited blood uncontrollably, the poor terrorist had a pale deflated expression on his face as he saw death directly before him.

Clark placed his legs on top of his chest, added pressure to the deep gorge there, and looked straight into the terrorist’s eyes.

The executioner gasped, the features of his face distorting as his already weak hands held the captain’s leg with a pleading expression on his face. No one loved death, not even a terrorist like him.

He was barely living by grasping tight to the juice still left of his lungs, his eyes were already dilating but he tried to hold tight to life.

His mouth opened wide, they kept on opening and closing slowly, forming pleading mouth gestures but Clark did not give a damn about him. The next moment, he stiffened and it ended.

Another terrorist life just left the world again.