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Ortega smiled revealing razor-sharp teeth. "I can see that you hate my ass, man. It would be a shame if I had to fucking waste you because you got stupid.

"You see, I'm looking forward to this court-martial." Ortega laid the knife on Ethan's chest, took one of Ethan's hands, and pulled it to his mouth. 

With the barrel of the forty-five still shoved in his right ear, Ethan had little choice but to allow his index finger to be run along the sharp edge of Ortega's pure, white teeth. When blood spurted from the fingertip, a sharp pain raced up his arm. 

Ethan's automatic reflex was to rip his hand from Ortega's grip, and when he tried, the CIA agent slammed the barrel of the forty-five hard against the side of Ethan's ear causing a tidal wave of pain. 

"I told you not to move. You fucking got to listen to me, man, and do as I say. My ivories are sharp. I file them nightly. I am tempted to practice on you and see how much damage I can do to that handsome face of yours. 

"Maybe I'll visit you in the brig in Da Nang, or maybe I'll chew your gook bitch's fucking tits off after I'm done with her." 

Ethan lunged, but Ortega was faster and slammed the side of his free hand into Ethan's throat leaving Ethan's body paralyzed as he struggled to breathe. 

Ortega took hold of Ethan's larynx as if it were soft putty, dug his fingers behind it, then squeezed and pulled, cutting off Ethan's air supply and stealing his strength. 

"That was fucking stupid, man," Ortega said. "Your brain must be full of oatmeal. You think you are the only fucker expert at killing. 

"I'm leaving now. I have this rat hole no one knows about that will take me under the wire and out of this camp. I would like it if you followed me, so I could leave your dead carcass in that hole where no one will find it. They'd think you went AWOL because you are guilty." 

Ethan could smell the stink of the rogue CIA agent's last meal on his breath. From the stench, it must have been raw road kill crawling with maggots. "Don't forget what I'm going to do to that gook bitch of yours, man," Ortega said. 

Then he was gone. Ethan's chest heaved as he gasped for air, and spots of light danced in front of his eyes as his vision blurred. After he recovered, his throat burned and angry tears stung his eyes. He hated feeling helpless!

§ “Running with the Enemy” was awarded an Honorable Mention in General Fiction at the 2103 San Francisco Book Festival

§ Discover a new world of Publishing–-the 2013 San Francisco Book Festival Event held on May 18 at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel in SF.