Chapter 2

K.K

At about 5 feet 11 inches he was as average as most guys come. But at 5 meters away trust me, there was only one thing you could do, start praying for forgiveness to god for all the sins you had done. The last thing you could see was his index finger squeezing the trigger of his custom made ‘Chili’ a six shooter modified at his basement. He was my best friend. We had worked closely in so many assignments. He was an ex-army sergeant. Didn’t talk much. His eyes spoke most of what he wanted to say. I could say that he had only 2 expressions Grumpy and not grumpy. I guess it comes as a part of the job thing. He was  a like me, you could dump him to hell and he would come right back and wink at you and ‘blink’ you were dead. No one would ever know who did it. Military forensics, they don’t  event teach the cops that I guess. The last time he took out a RAW agent we were standing there under the spotlight, the RAW had called him in to help find clues, he was that good.

They dropped him at some place in Gaza to kill some guy under Mossad’s imprisonment, That bastard had gotten me killed almost, it cost 19 stitches 2 Armani's’ and 2 Glocks , My EOS Mark V as well. He paid for it all, “Cash” he would say “now that is what makes it fun”. I had to drag him by his collar to the extraction point.

K.K : “ You nut, I left my watch in there. How do i leave without it.”

Me: “ I’ll get it, you are careless as usual. This is the last time I do this for you. Next time I will had over your ass to those guys.”

I got that watch after about dodging a few bullets and getting my neck almost slashed , and the bastard says “Keep it, I had earned it the same way, Now you have” , he then blacks out. I can hear the military in a typical Ghost Recon game utter “Move it, lets go lets’ go.”  am thinking if I am in a game after all. I guess I am.