Autobiography of an Assassin:: The Family by M.T. Hallgarth

Author:M.T. Hallgarth [Hallgarth, M.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784629359
Publisher: Troubador
Published: 2015-02-15T18:30:00+00:00

White Phosphorus burns at temperatures of 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit, so intense the heat; the ignited particles will melt their way through most combustible materials – including human tissue.

The screaming from the FMLN guerrillas had immediately intensified. Those who could get to their feet – or those who still had legs and feet to get on to – had suddenly shot up out of the burning smouldering grass. With flaying arms, they had all done a wild, crazy frantic dance and jig – as they had desperately tried to brush off the phosphorus particles, which had been progressively melting into their heads and bodies.

Maaka had been quick to put most of them out of their misery, his M60E3 machine gun grunting away as it had chopped them down. The M16’s, of Carlos and Joshua, had taken care of the rest.

From some distance off, further down the trail, had come the distinct ‘rat a tat, tat’ – ‘rat a tat, tat’ – ‘rat a tat, tat’ of John-Luke’s unsuppressed M4 carbine – the fleeing guerrillas had obviously reached him!

The little baby girl had been screaming her tiny lungs out, so I had directed Hughie to go and calm her down – her high pitched screams had started to grate on my hearing. My next priority had been to check for casualties amongst the FMLN guerrillas – for the intention was not to leave any!

No prisoners! – No survivors!

I had taken Gaj with me, handing him my Browning Hi-Power, warning him about it being cocked and locked. “Flick the safety off and it’s good to go,” I had informed him.

Carlos and Joshua has covered us – watching our backs from their respective vantage points.

The effects of the Claymores, whose ideal optimum range had been twenty metres so as to maximise the spread of the projectiles, had been more severe on the edges of the narrow clearing. Here, the steel shot, still tightly compacted together and yet to fully expand in spread, had literally torn large ‘chunks’ out of its victims. In the centre of the clearing, where the hundreds of steel balls had been able to spread, the guerrillas lying there had displayed typical multiple wounds. As well as the blast and penetrative injuries from the Claymores, and the obvious gunshot wounds from the M60E3 and M16’s, all the guerrillas had clearly displayed the tell tale ‘melt’ wounds of white phosphorus, where it had burnt irregular shaped lesions, deep into the flesh. There had not been much for Gaj and I to ‘finish off’ – most of the FMLN guerrillas had been killed in our initial onslaught. Having finished off the few wounded surviving guerrillas that there were, we had come across one of the ‘Blue Bandanas’, who, remarkably, had still been alive. Kneeling in an upright hunched position, leaning forward over his legs and knees, the man had been pretty much left as Gaj’s rifle had left him…effectively castrated.

“Your shot,” I had offered, stepping back and extending my left hand out to Mr Blue Bandana, who had been softly whimpering away.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.