Things fell to shit pretty fast when he finally reached the island.
Chris stood at the top of the cliff in the early night, catching his breath and soundly cursing himself. Everything had been in that bag -- weapons and ammo, rap-pelling equipment so they could get back down to the boat, flashlight, a basic first-aid kit, everything.
Not everything. You 've still got three grenades on your belt, his mind told him brightly. Terrific. Halfway up the cliff he loses his grip and drops the bag into the deep blue sea, but it appeared he still had his sense of humor.
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Chapter 13
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