Dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun, a black beanie crammed down to her eyebrows. Black eyes were obscure under the camouflage paint, they saw everything and analyzed it in a second. There was no insignia on her uniform, this was not sanctioned, it never happened. Her gestures were sharp and pointed, conveying a direct meaning. Cover flank, flow around to the rendezvous, I'll take point. Move out! They moved silently through the compound, each knowing their jobs and accomplishing objectives with deadly skill. Such was the life of the special forces.
She had very graceful hands, they moved like pale silk ribbons in a gentle breeze, forming her thoughts and emotions.
No comments:
Post a Comment