Seeing how Swiftrunner had exited the building, I doubled back to the stairs that I had entered by. I had paracord, but no way to attach it to the wall and rappel down. I sprinted through the halls quickly, but as I burst through the front door, my path was blocked by a heavyset man in a crisp uniform covered in medals, and two guards who raised their guns. I fired my MP-5 and brought down both of them, but as I turned the gun on the officer, who had drawn his pistol, the gun clicked dry. Instead I heard his gun fire, and felt the bullet tear through my left arm, throwing me against the door frame, which I twisted behind as I sagged to the ground.
"AARGH!C**T, FUCKING SON OF A *****!!!" I screamed. It felt as if a red hot poker had beenthrust straight through my flesh, and was more painful than any of the bites I had sustained in my final hours in my own universe. The officer laughed.
"My name is Colonel Ngube." he said in a strong West African accent. "You and your friend have caused a lot of damage on my property, and you try to steal from me as well? I cannot allow that. I will kill you, and your friend. But first, do you know what we do to thieves in Africa? We take their hands." With that he drew his ceremonial sword, a strange blade that looked llike a cross between a cavalry sabre and a machete. Instinctively, I drew my kukri. Pushing myself unsteadily to my feet, I faced him and raised the blade to a defensive posture.
