Revenge

“Don’t shoot him,” I ordered the soldier who was about to squeeze the trigger on the hapless 10-year old son of the slain terrorist leader lying supine on the ground. Next moment, I felt the cold blade of the army knife the boy had snatched from its holster in my belt and driven in one fell swoop into my stomach and the triumphant glint in his little eyes with the hand holding the blood-dripping knife hanging loosely by his side.

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Revenge, 5.3 out of 10 based on 3 ratings

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