The bomb slapped against his side as he crept forward; a moist smacking sound threatening to give away his position. Holding his breath, he listened intently. Sweat dripped as he baked in the sun.
They were close. He could hear complaints about the heat, plans for the next assault. Nothing to indicate he was exposed.
Advancing to the edge of the clearing he saw them, grouped around the water-tower. He could get them, all of them. Retribution would be fierce, but glory sang in his veins.
Breaking from cover, he launched the water-balloon into the squealing crowd of his friends.
Word count: 100
Been a bit pressed for time this week – so just a quick Friday Fictioneers this week.
I hope it makes sense!
Know what you think.