The cringing little man shrinks into the rocks. I shake my head at his moaning and whimpering. “For fuck’s sake man have some pride.”
His watering eyes dart in my direction, “I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to…”
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t want to die here. Well newsflash little man neither do I. Dying in some shithole third world country trying to extract a piss faced little weasel like you isn’t exactly my idea of a good way to go.”
A bullet ricochets off the top of the rocks we’re hunkered down behind. He squeals and attempts to dash out of the rock outcropping. I take him down in a hard behind the knee lunge. He’s thrashing and squealing and over my ear com I hear the others laughing at the noise coming across our channel. I grit my teeth, “They can’t get us here unless they get lucky with a ricochet. They’re just trying to make us move. Like you just did you dumb fucking pain in my ass.” I shake him by the neck, rattling his brain won’t make him any stupider and it makes me feel slightly better.
With one hand vice gripping his neck, we hunker and crawl back to the rocks with bullets pinging above us. When we get there I shove him into the deepest crevice I can find and mutter about wasting my life saving worthless shits. In the background he begins praying crazily. I listen to the list of things he’s willing to give up if only he makes it out of here and I can’t help but raise my eyebrows. The little weasel is even more disgusting than I imagined. “Do you really think your praying’s gonna help? That gods gonna send down lightning and thunder? The only help from on high that we need is a well placed sniper and in another minute and a half we’ll have that. Now shut the fuck up so I can hear my com and know when to move.” All I hear over the com is sporadic laughter. I swear I’m going to kill those rat bastards who stuck me with babysitting the weasel.