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on.
    'And what about you? We ain't leaving without you,
Cherry.'
    'Don't be fucking daft, you lanky prick. Do you think I
have that much of a death wish? It's danger close, not “drop it
on my freaking head.” Give me some credit; I do know what I'm
doing. Who the fuck trained you?'
    Kingsley was silent for a second or two as he mulled
over his reply. Only one bubbled to the surface.
    'You did.'
    Baker smirked; he was certain the others could actually
hear the muscles of his face contracting as he spoke.
    'Damn right it was me, so don't you think I at least
know enough to get the hell out of Dodge before they drop a one
hundred and five millimetre shell on my head!'
    'Cherry, I said you trained me, I never said you had any
common sense.' Baker almost choked on his own words as the sarcastic
reply tumbled over him. 'Fucking smart arse.'

    With that passing comment, Baker cut the connection and
snatched the Infra-red beacon from his vest, launching the small
device up onto the roof of the nearest building he carried on
sprinting for all he was worth. The pain in his knee was excruciating
to the point of blacking out but he pushed through it, drinking in
the sensation and letting it coarse through him. He pushed onwards,
getting as far from the area as he possibly could.
    The AC130 Spectre gunship circled high above them,
slipping into a tight pylon turn as the mammoth plane circled the
position seeking out its target. With a heavy whirring, the plane
jockeyed into position the one hundred and five millimetre M102
cannon, zeroing in on the small flashing beacon two miles below. The
Bofors forty millimetre cannon peppered the ground as the flight crew
lined up the final shot for the M102, the plane rocked slightly on
its axis as the cannon fired. Baker flew through the air as the round
impacted behind him. Curling into the foetal position mid-air Baker
slammed hard into the floor, dirt cascading around him as he rolled
and bounced over the hard compacted rust coloured ground.
    Rocks tore at his uniform, streaks of blood covering the
ground as he was tossed once more from his resting place. The high
velocity rounds from the plane circling above drove ever deeper into
the floor, pulverising the buildings that had stood there. Dust
coated his throat as he tried to breathe through the thick, cloying,
dense mire of dust and dirt that fell over him like a mother tucking
in her child. The cloud enveloped him as he began to slowly fade out,
the thumping impacts slowly growing dim as his eyes pin holed and the
world faded into black.

5

    The world about him swirled and shook as he drifted back
into consciousness. Baker felt himself drifting; floating through the
air his eyes slowly began to focus on the soft blurred shapes above
him.
    'Ringing.'
    He softly muttered, the words lisping and choked as his
parched dust filled throat tried to open. Muted voices tried to force
their way into his mind but to no avail. All he could hear was a
muffled jumbled growl; it drove him insane as he desperately tried to
focus on what was being said, but it was a futile act.
    It was like trying to listen through Vaseline covered
cotton wool; Baker shook his head once more with the same result;
nothing came through to him but a muffled distant groan akin to
listening to someone scream at you with your head submerged in a bath
full of water.
    Baker slammed his fist against his head trying to shake
loose the tinnitus-like ringing in his ears. The only thing it did
was shake the dust from his helmet and beard, the fine granules
slipping past his lashes and stinging his eyes. Shaking his head
harshly from side to side, the noise washed in, assaulting his ears
like a sledge hammer on an egg.
    'Fuck; okay, no need to fucking shout, I ain't deaf.'
    Kingsley dragged Baker fully upright, running one spade
like hand down Baker's back in a half hearted show of trying to
smarten up his commander.
    'Thought you were for a minute there, Cherry.'
    Baker smirked, a small