Here’s another random snippet from my current work in progress, Vigilati, Book 3.
Disclaimer: These lines are from an unedited, unrevised manuscript and may not appear in their entirety in the final product.
Matthieu had no clue if he was in Baghdad, Kandahar, or the godforsaken shack in the bayou. He didn’t even know if he had all of his parts in tact—and he sure as the hell didn’t know what had happened to the guy who’d ended up on the wrong end of his PPK.
When his head stopped spinning enough, he hefted himself up to sit on the curb, and tried to remember what he was supposed to do. He thought he was supposed to call Hawkeye for a pick up, but with where his head was at in that moment, Matthieu wasn’t sure the kid even existed. But he really didn’t have any other ideas.
Digging in his pocket for a pack of gum, something he’d taken to keeping on him ever since he’d quit smoking, he popped in a piece and yanked his phone off his belt. Scrolling through his contacts, he found Hawkeye which gave him a momentarily wave of relief. That part, at least, had been real.
Deciding against calling because he still wasn’t sure if he’d been in an explosion and if he could even speak, Matthieu dashed off a quick text.
All clear. -Cobra