was taking damage, but not enough for it to fail. The shooter shot
Derek, straight in the chest, twice more. Now the shield was struggling,
and so were Derek’s ribs. At least two of them must have been broken.
He suddenly remembered about his sidearm. Reaching for it, he was
shot once more, and then he heard the click. That quiet click of hope.
The smile from the shooter was quickly drained as Derek pulled out the
B22 Semi-Automatic Handgun and unloaded the entire fifteen round
magazine into his chest. But the bullets didn’t go in. Saved from a
quick death thanks to his steel plated combat vest, the man scrambled
back, looking for any weapon at all. The only weapon he could find
however was the one in Derek’s hand. He had dropped the pistol and
taken out his combat knife. Black steel and curved. It was perfect.
Derek walked towards the cowering man and slit his throat. But not
before after stabbing him forty times in any unarmoured area. Rage.
That is what pushes him the most. With no regrets, Derek ran back to
Carter and stopped suddenly at the sight of him.
16
Transit
3:41 AM
USOC Moon HQ, Luna, Solar System
The sight that Derek feared the most was laid out in front of him. His
best hope of survival was lying there, with a large steel shard
protruding out of him. The shotgun blast must have knocked him into a
piece of the door he blew down. It was sticking out of his left ribcage
and Derek could have almost sworn he was able to see a lung. Blood
gushed out like a faucet on full. The power shield wasn’t able to stand
such a large, sharp piece of metal. Carter was not dead yet, but he will
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