Read Online Metamorphosis by A.G. Claymore - Free Book Online Page B

flash-bangs.
The blast blinded the men and impaired their balance while Liam,
partially conditioned to the effects during his training at
Hereford, began to weave his way back up the hill, knowing that he
had to rearm himself and defend his sergeant. He cursed. Should
have taken one of their weapons. The flash-bang had muddled his
thinking.
    When he
crested the hill he found himself staring at four armed men plus a
fifth, better dressed and carrying his assault rifle slung over his
shoulder. It was all over. The well-dressed man, obviously the
leader, was holding Danraj’s kukri in his hand as he looked up at
the SAS officer. “One of yours?” he had asked, nodding towards the
sergeant. Liam’s shoulders slumped. He stared dully at the man,
knowing an answer was needed. Finally he simply nodded.
    “A Gurkha,”
the warlord said in mingled tones of anger and respect. He looked
back up at Liam. “If men like this follow you,” he said, a
calculating look coming into his eyes, “Then you must be a man
worth a great ransom.”
    Am I worth
anything? thought Liam. My sister is hardly rich. My wife
has a brother, but he’s more likely to ask them for money if they contact him. As to being a
leader of men, he had never felt easy in command. It was what had
driven him to apply to the SAS. He had wanted to prove himself, to
re-forge himself as the kind of man he had always wanted to be. He
found himself tested on an almost constant basis. His men were the
epitome of initiative and it was all he could do to keep up with
them. Most days, he wasn’t really sure who led whom. He never felt
that he was a bad soldier, but he still wasn’t sure that he was cut
out to lead.
    “Better to die
than live a coward,” the warlord said, looking down at Rai’s still
form, then translating it for his men. Liam watched them nod in
approval as their leader looked back at him. “Their motto is
obviously more than just words.” He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose
it doesn’t apply to officers?”
    Liam had been
given no chance to answer the insult, as a rifle butt had crashed
into the back of his head before he could begin to frame a
response.
    Fifteen months
later, he stared at the door, still not sure if he was meant to
lead soldiers but dead certain that something fundamental had
changed about his current situation. He hadn’t seen anyone for over
a day now. He would have been thrilled to get a solid night’s sleep
for the first time in over a year, but he found himself waking
every three hours, to find that no-one had bothered to come in and
kick him awake. I wonder if I’ll have to re-learn how to sleep
more than two hours at a time, he mused as he walked over to
the door.
    He stood
before the door for a moment, wondering how he could get it open
while he was still in shackles. Better listen first , he
thought. If a guard is out there, I wouldn’t want to startle him
into shooting me. He stepped forward and leaned his shoulder
against the door so he could place his ear against it.  As his
ear touched the rough wood, the door swung out into the next room,
spilling him onto the floor with a dull clatter of hand-forged
chains.
    He rolled to
his feet, looking around the empty room. The only furnishings were
a table and chairs, smooth wood worn by countless decades of use.
In the center of the table, a piece of paper was pinned to the
surface by a kukri. Sergeant Rai’s blade, thought Liam as he
reached out and pulled the heavy weapon free. He pulled the paper
off the tip; it contained a simple message in English.
    You’re
worthless. Go home.
    Nothing I
haven’t thought already, he half-joked to himself. Liam looked
at the two other doors in the room. One showed bright light seeping
in underneath. The sun, he thought. Haven’t seen the sun
in more than a year. He was surprised by a sudden reluctance to
approach the door. After so long in captivity, he had become
accustomed to the brutal comforts of routine. He had withdrawn into
a