Talon (Talon 1)

Alpha was halfway up the lawn when the roof exploded.

Something dark, scaly, and massive erupted from the hacienda, sending tile and wood flying as it launched itself into the air. My heart jumped as I watched the monster soar above the canopy. It was huge, a full-grown adult, the height of a bull elephant and three times as long. Curved horns spiraled up from its narrow skull, and a mane of spines ran down its neck to a long, thrashing tail. The sun glinted off midnight scales, and leathery wings cast a long shadow over the ground as the dragon hovered in the air, glaring down at the battle below, then dove to attack.

Wings flared, it landed on the lawn with a roar that shook the earth, then sent a cone of flame blasting through the ranks of soldiers.

Bodies fell away, screaming, flailing, as hellish dragonfire consumed armor and flesh like tinder. The dragon pounced, scything through the ranks with its claws, crushing soldiers in its teeth before flinging them away. Its tail whipped out, striking an entire group coming up behind it and knocking them aside like bowling pins.

Now! I leaped to my feet, as did the rest of my squad, and opened fire on the huge reptile. The M-16s chattered in sharp, three round bursts, and I aimed carefully for the dragon’s side, behind the front foreleg where the heart would be. Blood erupted along the armored hide, and the dragon roared as some of the shots pierced through scales, though not enough to kill it. It staggered, and I pressed forward grimly, concentrating fire on its weak points. The quicker we killed it, the less damage it could do and the fewer lives it would take. There could be no hesitation on our part; it was either us, or the dragon.

Directly across from us, a black jeep with a mounted .50 caliber Browning M2 burst from the bushes, and machine gun fire joined the cacophony as the vehicle sped toward the huge reptile. Caught in a deadly crossfire, the dragon roared. Bounding away, it opened its leathery wings and launched itself into the air with a powerful downward thrust.

“Aim for the wings!” the commander barked in my ear, though I was already switching targets, methodically firing at the sweeping membranes. “Bring it down! Don’t let it fly away.”

But the dragon had no intention of fleeing. It turned and swooped from the sky, dropping fifteen tons of scales, teeth, and claws onto its target. It smashed full force into the jeep, halting the vehicle’s momentum, crushing the hood and causing the driver to smash into the windshield. The gunner flew from the back and tumbled to the ground, sprawling limply in the ferns. With a triumphant bellow, the dragon overturned the vehicle, crushing metal and glass and turning the jeep into a mangled wreck. I winced, but there was no time to think on the lives lost. We would pay our respects to the fallen when the battle was won.

My squad switched fire back to the dragon’s flank. Streaked with blood, the dragon jerked, and that long neck snapped around, a murderous gleam in its red eyes as it glared in our direction.

“Hold position!” I snapped to the rest of my squad as the dragon roared a challenge and spun, tail lashing. “I’ll draw it off. Keep firing!”

A couple of them glanced at me, grim and resigned, but they didn’t argue. Better one soldier fall than the entire team. I was squad leader; if I died so that my brothers could keep fighting, the sacrifice would be worth it. They knew that as well as I did.

I left my hiding place and started forward, firing short, controlled bursts as I did, heading around the dragon’s side. Spotting me, the dragon reared its head back and took a breath, and my pulse spiked.

I dove away as fire erupted from its jaws, searing into the jungle and setting the trees ablaze. Rolling to my feet, I looked up to see the huge lizard coming for me, maw gaping wide. My heart pounded, but my hands remained steady as I raised my gun and fired at the horned skull, knowing the thick breastplate would protect its chest and stomach. The dragon flinched, shaking its head as the shots struck its bony brow and cheekbones, and kept coming.

I threw myself to the side as the dragon’s head shot forward, jaws snapping shut in the spot I had been. Quick as a snake, it whipped its neck around and lunged again, teeth that could shear through a telephone pole coming right at me. I avoided the six-inch fangs, but the massive, horned head still crashed into my side, and even through the combat vest, pain erupted through my ribs. The ground fell away as the force hurled me into the air, the world spinning around me, and I rolled several paces when I struck the earth again. Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked up……into the crimson eyes of my enemy.

The dragon loomed overhead, dark and massive, its wings partially open to cast a huge shadow over the ground. I stared into its ancient, alien face, saw myself reflected in those cold red eyes that held no mercy, no pity or understanding; just raw hate and savage triumph. It took a breath, nostrils flaring, and I braced myself for the killing flames. There was no fear, no remorse. I was a soldier of St. George; to die honorably in battle against our oldest foe was all I could hope for.

A single shot rang out from somewhere in the jungle, the sharp retort echoing loudly even in the chaos. The dragon lurched sideways with a roar, a bright spray of blood erupting from its side as the armor piercing, .50 caliber sniper round struck behind its foreleg, straight into the heart. The precision perfect shot that Tristan St.

Anthony was known for.

The blow knocked the dragon off its feet, and the ground shook as it finally collapsed. Wailing, it struggled to rise, clawing at the ground, wings and tail thrashing desperately. But it was dying, its struggles growing weaker even as the soldiers continued to pump it full of rounds. From where I lay, I watched its head hit the ground with a thump, watched its struggles grow weaker and weaker, until it was almost still. Only the faint, labored rise and fall of its ribs, and the frantic twitch of its tail, showed it was still clinging to life.

As it lay there, gasping, it suddenly rolled its eye back and looked at me, the slitted, bright red pupil staring up from the dirt. For a moment, we stared at each other, dragon and slayer, caught in an endless cycle of war and death.

I bowed my head, still keeping the dragon in my sights, and murmured, “In nomine Domini Sabaoth, sui fili qui ite ad Infernos.” In the name of the Lord of Hosts and his son, depart to hell. An incantation taught to all soldiers, from when they believed dragons were demons and might posses you in a final attempt to remain in the world. I knew better. Dragons were flesh and blood; get past their scales and armor, and they died just like anything else. But they were also warriors, brave in their own way, and every warrior deserved a final send off.