Author's note: Thanks for reading this story.
Chapter 2
Kurz opened his eyes and winced. Everything hurt. This was even worse than the last time he had encountered that bastard. He could see the night sky. That had to mean that the chest plate was off. At least he wasn't shuttered inside.
With a groan the young soldier pulled his arm from its crushing metal sheath. It hung loosely at his side and with some effort he made it move to one of his legs. Grasping it firmly he pulled his right out first and couldn't repress a gasp as pain shafted through his body. He let the useless limb drop and moved on to his left leg.
This time he screamed, throat opened for a single second in unparalleled agony. Teeth gritted, hanging on to the last shreds of consciousness, Kurz ripped off the top half of his uniform and tore it to shreds, using each one to bind first his damaged ribs and the dripping gash there and then his limbs, making sure to strap a piece of metal with each of those so he could stay upright for short periods of time.
Only ten minutes after he had regained consciousness, Kurz dropped from his AS. His legs folded underneath him, the metal he had hastily bound with them falling out the bottom of his loose bandage. Groaning in both pain and anger and cursing his bad luck, one of Mithril's finest soldiers dragged himself to the tree line.
Making use of the trees, he pulled himself upright, almost knocking himself unconscious with the pain of using limbs that were in no condition to be used. Limping along, he was concentrating so hard on staying upright that he missed the fist that hit him square in the jaw. Kurz was knocked hard into a tree.
Already understanding that this person was out to kill him, Kurz tried to run away, but crawling didn't get him far. A kick smashed him onto his side and he almost screamed as it connected with broken ribs. Knowing he had no other option, he pulled a gun from its holster and saw the shadow drawback.
Thinking he had an advantage, he stood slowly, leaning on the tree, broken legs shaking underneath him, the strength of his will the only thing keeping him upright. Then he found a rifle pointing against his forehead. The two stood frozen, neither wanting to pull the trigger for fear that their opposition would fire too. A new intruder solved their dilemma.
A small band of the terrorists they had been following stepped into the clearing, surrounding the shadow and Kurz. One of the terrorists stepped forwards and smashed a rifle in the soldier's ribs. Eyes wide, gasping for breath, he collapsed. A boot then took place of the rifle's butt as the terrorist dug his heel into the young man's chest.
Blood flew from the blonde's mouth and a whistling scream forced itself into the cool night air, stealing any breath the soldier had left. Coughs that bought blood followed and then another shadow stepped forwards and touched the terrorist's shoulder.
The terrorist looked at the hand and shrugged. The pressure was relieved and Kurz could breathe again. Gasping for breath while he still could, the soldier didn't see the needle coming. It pierced his neck with lethal cool and the last thing he saw was a smiling face while in the background the shadow he had been fighting was also subdued. And then it all went black.
