Chapter 22
NO ONE POV/THIRD PERSON POV Celebrate death, for they no longer have to suffer in this cruel world, cry tears of sorrow for those that enter. This life that we live in is a constant battle for the survival of the fittest. "Verdomme! Wat de f**k is er gebeurd?" Greg shouted, positioning his M107.50 Caliber long-range sniper rifle against his shoulder. The only figure he saw was the woman whose temperature is dropping. "I got -what this motherfucker would call- shot at," De Luca told Greg. De Luca touches the cut on his face. The bullet that was meant to pierce his head grazed his temple. He rubbed the blood between his index and thumb finger as if testing the red liquid between them. "Wat zijn m'n bevelen?" "Don't shoot her or me," De Luca told Greg. He takes out a Bluetooth earpiece,
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