Chapter nineteen
“a man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green.”—Francis bacon,
{Afattalah’s p.o.v}
The day had ended on a dreadful note for me. And I had the sinking feeling my night would fare no better. After the wild adventure which ended in no victory, I had flown right back with Caleb to the compound, struggling with the throttles and other sophisticated sets of the Heli through the course of the flight.
At this point, I must admit my past with those people I’ve once served, and whom, I now loathed had paid off pretty well. If not, who’d have thought my experience at handling a chopper, though rusty would come in handy in the sorry excuse of a life I was living at the moment?
With daylig
