Blaze of Glory Read Online Free PDF

small sense of comfort. Like Brian, he’d come to appreciate the darkness. For Brian, it meant others would have trouble seeing him; for Zinsser darkness felt more familiar than light.
    The IV pump kept track of each drop of fluid it moved through the plastic tubing, tabulating important information on a small, digital screen. Outside the door, nurses, doctors, and other visitors moved along the corridors. Although open, the door provided the demarcation between the normal world of healthy, active people, and the universe of the broken and busted. Those on the other side of the door pitied those on this side. Zinsser knew. He had spent two months in rehab and two months seeing a military psychologist before being returned to duty.
    He was the lucky one.
    Zinsser forced his eyes to trace the form of his friend, then corrected himself. Chief, Boss, and two others left their life’s blood in Kismayo. They lost their lives and, despite the shame it brought him, Zinsser acknowledged the truth.
    He envied them the most.

    THE ACRID, BITING SMELL of spent gunpowder filled the still air of the room. From outside the window, the barrel of an AK-47 appeared. A moment later the head of its owner followed. Zinsser put a round in the man’s forehead. What he wanted to do was yank the trigger back and never let go. At seven hundred rounds a minute, his clip would be empty in less than two seconds. Conservation was the ticket. Don’t waste a shot; don’t waste an opportunity.
    “Can you watch the window?”
    “Yeah.” Brian pressed the words through clenched teeth. “But not for long.”
    Zinsser moved to Brian’s right side. “I’m gonna make a tourniquet out of my belt. Don’t let me get shot while I do it.”
    “It’s no use, Data, I’m bleeding out. I can feel it. I’m bleeding inside. I’m busted up bad.”
    “Shut up.” Zinsser removed his belt and slipped it around Brian’s right thigh and positioned it between the man’s wound and hip. “This might pinch just a little.”
    He yanked the belt hard. Brian screamed. Zinsser cinched the belt tight. A moment later he saw another bullet wound in Brian’s left leg. It wasn’t bleeding and Zinsser assumed it missed the artery. He also assumed the bullet had shattered the upper leg bone.
    “Watch it!” Brian raised the 9mm and began firing. Hot casings spewed from the chamber, hitting Zinsser in the face. He recoiled and raised his M4. A Somali with a grenade launcher pointed through the window stood unmoving for a moment as if taking aim, but Brian’s shot had put an end to that. No one could aim with half his head missing. The standing corpse dropped.
    “How long before they rush us?” Brian asked.
    Zinsser returned to his spot by the side wall. “I don’t know why they haven’t yet. They have enough bodies. I saw at least twenty-five men.”
    As if taking their cue from the discussion, the doorknob began to turn. Zinsser aimed his weapon at a head-high spot above the doorknob. He pressed the trigger and three rounds pierced the wood. “I hate people who don’t knock.”
    Brian chuckled. “Only you would crack-wise at a time like this.”
    “Can’t help it, buddy. I’m getting bored—”
    The door exploded open, and several men poured into the room. Brian emptied his 9mm at them. Zinsser flipped the switch on his weapon back to automatic and released a burst of fire.
    Men fell.
    Several more followed. Movement to the side caught his attention. “Window!”
    Something hot hit his shoulder. Fire raced into his chest. He had no time to cry out; no time to complain. Since his arm still moved he assumed the round had passed through his arm. He fingered the trigger again. Five shots spewed from the barrel.
    He heard Brian drop the handgun and pick up the one Zinsser had given him before. The familiar sounds of handguns shredded the air.
    The next time Zinsser pulled his trigger nothing happened. “Reloading.”
    The thirty-round clip fell from the belly