Man on a Hill

By George G George

This fictional story and does not reflect on anyone who gave there life or who were injured.
Rifleman Max Carter by his own admission is the worlds most stubborn man bar none, a few times this has been an advantage but not this time. He's alone facing 32 armed men in a foreign land. His choice is death rather than capture, he could surrender but his sheer stubbornness refuses to let him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: George G George
• Release date: Mar 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370489435

George G George

Born Gary Richard Hagger in the East End of London in 1958 and having a standard school education, he left school and completed a three year apprenticeship in bricklaying, after which he joined the British Army, spending three years in the Royal Green Jackets 2nd Battalion, serving with Andy McNab in Armagh, Northern Ireland in 1979. After serving his time, Gary went back to bricklaying and then started running his own small company, leaving in 2000 to become a site agent for various companies, in that time he designed and built his own skis and bindings why? "simple I could not buy what I wanted so I designed and built them myself and still use them today" and at the age of 54 he retired and started writing.

Book preview

Man on a Hill

Fatal Green

Standing on a hill outside of a piss-all nothing place on the very south east coast of Argentina, glaring down at the thirty two armed men from the local Argentinian army reserves is Rifleman Max Carter. In his hand is an empty rifle and he knows that the men down below know this too. He is known to these soldiers by the Spanish name they have given him: El Diablo Verde. The Green Devil.

Hey Diablo Verde…we do not want to hurt you, just put down your weapon and surrender. We will treat you well…no more beatings. The Captain called up on a megaphone in his Spanish accented voice and like a granite sentinel Max said nothing.

Come on, we know you have no ammunition and you have been ordered to surrender. Still no reply.

I will give you five minutes…and then we start firing.

The Captain looked sad as he placed his binoculars to his eyes and watched the man on the hill, he was hoping to see some kind of reaction. All he saw was what he would tell his people later:

His face was like stone and had the look of a dead man. Fatal Green. That is the best way I can describe it, either he was going to die or we were.

Max blinked and thought about how and why he was here on this shit hole of a hill; stubbornness, a short-fused temper and a deep sense of injustice. He was neither a hero nor superman, no he was just really pissed off and if he had one real flaw it was that he was suicidally stubborn. Max would take this to the point where he would die rather than give in and this was one of those times. He knew it would probably be his last.

Dressed in combat camouflage jacket and trousers, with his high level Northern Island boots and a green beret with a black RGJ badge above his left eye. Max is 5’8’’ and 11 stone of highly trained muscle and bone, with brown hair and eyes, and a stubborn streak wider than the Grand Cannon.

Five minutes Amigo.

The only reaction the Captain noticed after he’d called up the amount of time left, was that Max blinked. The faces of his Dad and Mum flashed in front of his eyes, and his mum’s voiced echoed in his ears. Never give in Max…Never. Carters die before they give in, remember this and never forget it. He smiled slightly at the memory.

His stubbornness had gotten him in to so many bad situations over the years, and as he mentally looked back he thought more bad than good. Part of his training had been an escape and evasion exercise, and if caught you would be tortured by the training screws. This could be anything from a few well-placed punches to water boarding, none of this was legal but that never stopped them.

We weed out the wasters and no hoper's. Sergeant Burns had said.

Max had been caught as had everyone else and they had all given in except him. The toughest, who you would have thought to pass, had failed. But not him.

Carter just raise your hand and it will end…Raise your fucking hand you little cunt, the fucking pub's open. Screamed Corporal Tyson, just inches from his ear.

Max had his stubborn head on and that meant no giving in, no matter what they did. He could just see the outline of faces through the Hessian sack over his head, a hard punch took the wind out of him and more water was poured over his face. He was choking and needed air but he only sucked in water. This went on for what seemed a long time to him and only ended when Corporal Tyson lost his temper and kicked him in the head. Max woke up in a bed and could just see out of one eye and his ribs were aching from the beating, but this