Captured, Kwesi had been brought to this shed. Three hard-nosed fuckers between him and the door. Built, every single one of them. And this one who’d taken in-charge had an analytical eye. Kwesi felt the eyes all over him. Not admiring. Working out how much it’d take ….
“Special forces, I reckon.”
The incisive gaze had travelled all over Kwesi’s torso. Took in the great mounds of strength in his delts. Lingered long over the force built into the base of his neck.
“Look the type.”
An assessment of the bulging power in Kwesi’s abs.
“No ordinary grunt gets to look that good. Whatever he tries.”
Just his luck .. Kwesi’s end had gone tits-up. His luck to draw the short straw, his segment had armed soldiers popping up behind every bush. Well, if it hadn’t been him, it’d been one of the others!
Not even certain their leader was at Kwesi’s GPS. Looked like Kwesi was about to find out .. close-up. Again those higher up the food chain had not the first idea what they were up to. Well, THAT had turned out right.
But Kwesi and the guys, that was what they did .. think on your feet. Plan for the worst. All the guys had read the poor preparation. As Kwesi was finding out …..