Predator Cold War 7

Schaefer stepped forward and to the side, past the muzzle of the gun, so that Wilcox couldn't swing it around to follow. He bent down and offered Wilcox a hand up.

"The name's Schaefer," he said. Wilcox gripped Schaefer's wrist, and a second later was upright again.

He transferred his weapon to his left hand and reached out to shake Schaefer's hand...Schaefer had turned away.

"As far as that 'blow my head off' business goes-well, son..."

Wilcox glared at Schaefer's back in disbelief-the son of a bitch had knocked him down without warning, and now he thought he was too good to shake hands and make up? He hefted the heavy-assault rifle in his left hand, then grabbed the barrel with his right and swung the weapon like a club, aiming for the back of Schaefer's head. Let the arrogant bastard have a taste of his own medicine!...you wouldn't want to do that," Schaefer said, ducking under Wilcox's swing-he had clearly expected it.

He pivoted on the ball of one foot and brought his fist up under Wilcox's jaw, driving upward from his crouch. backward. Fist met jaw with a solid thump, and Wilcox went over

'Especially," Schaefer said as he stood over the dazed trooper, "seeing as I'm unarmed."-pg.369 chpt.16