“I’m not a nobody,” Rambo said. He raised his bow. “I’m your worst mistake.”
“They drew first blood,” he said. “Not me.” rambo.2
He had brought something better than proof. “I’m not a nobody,” Rambo said
The first shot took the officer through the throat. The man gurgled, clawed at the barbed shaft, and fell. Then the world exploded. Searchlights sliced the rain. Whistles shrieked. Rambo melted into the brush, a ghost made of mud and vengeance. “I’m not a nobody
Rambo’s breath went cold. He notched an arrow.
The arrow took the Russian in the chest. He stared at it, puzzled, as if it were a flower. Then he fell.
John Rambo read it twice. Then he folded it into a tight square and swallowed it.