Mike Nomads - Action

The rain came down like a baptism, washing the dust and blood from Sergeant First Class John “Jo” North’s hands. He knelt in the mud of a foreign land, the acrid smoke of a burning Toyota Hilux stinging his eyes. The fire painted the night in shades of hellish orange. In the back of the truck, four men lay still. Bad men. The kind who beheaded aid workers and sold children. Jo wasn’t thinking about them. His world had narrowed to the man in front of him.