Pfft-pfft-pfft.
Three suppressed rifles opened fire in unison, a stream of bullets cutting toward the entrance of the alleyway.
Backed by their elite individual combat skills, the three-man team’s opening volley was lethal. Each one of them dropped one or two enemies.
General Lionheart’s soldiers lacked proper training, but what they did have was numbers.
The first wave collapsed in the dirt, but the men behind them didn’t even flinch. They pushed forward, rifles out, charging headfirst into the dark alleyway. Armed with outdated weapons, they fired wildly as they ran, bullets flying everywhere.
In the dark, without NVGs (Night Vision Goggles), they were effectively blind. The alleyway before them was pitch black. Even with the scattered lamps providing light and the help of the moonlight, they still couldn’t see a damn thing.
Not that it mattered.
They didn’t care if they saw the enemy, didn’t care if their shots hit anything. Their only tactic was to keep pressing forward, spraying bullets into the void ahead.
Jason and his men, though only three men, faced an enemy force nearly ten times their number. But in reality, they weren’t under too much pressure.
Equipped with infrared NVGs, they might even be able to launch a counter-attack. Every target lit up clear as day, and in the day, from this distance, they didn’t miss. Under these circumstances, the three of them alone made it seem like an entire squad was laying down fire on the enemy.After less than thirty seconds of contact, nearly a dozen of Lionheart’s troops lay dead at the alleyway’s entrance.
The officer on the other side realized something was wrong. The defenders’ firepower was far beyond what he expected. He barked out new orders, “spread out into the houses! Close the distance! Use cover!”
Dozens of his soldiers poured into the buildings near the alleyway. With so many doorways and windows to work from, they could shoot from every angle.
Jason realized it would be dangerous to remain in the alleyway, and repositioned his team into a sturdy brick house for cover.
Thick, solid masonry could shrug off the heavy machine gun mounted on the pickup truck. Inside, the three of them could rotate firing positions, cover each other, and counter the enemy’s clumsy room-clearing attempts.
CQB was all about teamwork, and Lionheart’s rabble had never been trained a day in it.
Jason’s trio turned the building into a fortress. The enemy’s momentum faltered, their aggression stalling into scattered potshots from behind cover.
Frustrated, the Lionheart officer radioed back to base, demanding reinforcements, and heavier weapons like RPGs.
Unable to solve the problem using their abilities, they attempted to make up for it with firepower.
“Alright… enough of this. Get ready. Cover me.”
From the rooftop, Sonny watched as General Lionheart’s troops fixated entirely on Jason’s position. He gave Long Zhan two quick hand signals.
“Roger that,” Long Zhan answered with signals of his own.
Sonny took a deep breath, steadying himself. Then he rose, rested his machine gun on the wall, and aimed straight at the armed truck below that was firing away.
At the same instant, Long Zhan stood beside him, lining up on the infantry clustered near the vehicle. His job was clear, keep those men’s heads down while Sonny worked on the main target.
But the moment Long Zhan looked through his 3x scope, his heart jolted.
Through the reticle, he saw a familiar face.
“Clay? What the hell is he doing there?”
Long Zhan blinked, a dozen questions forming in his mind. Then, in a flash, the pieces clicked. Jason’s earlier calls, Clay’s absence… of course. That bastard had gone on his own again.
“Hold up, Sonny, wait!”
He yanked Sonny’s sleeve, pulling him back down behind cover.
“What’s the problem? We don’t have time! We can’t delay.”
Sonny wasn’t wrong. Every second they hesitated, the risk grew. If Lionheart’s second wave of troops arrived, they’d lock Bravo Team in a full encirclement. Even they, the best operators in the world, couldn’t get themselves out of that kind of scenario.
“I’ve got eyes on Clay, he’s near the truck. Don’t ask me why. But listen, if we work with him, we can take that baby for ourselves. A pickup truck mounted with a .50 cal machine gun on it would make exfil a whole lot easier don’t you think?”
Although Sonny was surprised by Clay's appearance, he knew there was no time to dwell on it.
He roughly reviewed the enemy’s and their own situation, analyzing the problems Bravo Team faced in evacuating, and quickly came up with a precise answer.
While the risk was high, the reward was equally as high. It was a chance they had to take.
Two legs couldn't outrun four, not to mention that those four legs were equipped with a heavy machine gun, which could be very useful to them during their retreat.
"Alright, let's do it your way. You contact Clay. I'll take out the heavy machine gunner, and he'll handle the targets inside the truck. After seizing the vehicle, we'll circle around to the alleyway’s exit and regroup there."
It was the smarter play.
Sonny knew if he himself shot into the truck, sure, the driver would die, but he might also shred the controls, the engine block, the steering wheel. Then their prized truck would be nothing more than scrap metal.
Clay, however, could significantly reduce this risk by engaging them at close range and shooting them.
“Got it. Give me twenty seconds.” Long Zhan replied.
Sonny immediately activated the team's comms and, like Jason, called out to him twice in a row.
Again however, his response fell on deaf ears. Clay didn't respond.
“That son of a bitch. Didn’t he screw up enough back in the tunnel?” Sonny growled, his irritation boiling over.
Whatever good impression he’d had on Clay before this was plummeting fast.
“His comms are probably fried. Our only option left is the fallback plan. Let’s pray he can figure it out.”
At this point, Long Zhan could only take a gamble.
A gamble that Clay’s head was sharp enough. A gamble that the years in Green Team together had built enough unspoken understanding between them for this crazy play to work.
0 Comments