Tiedot tuottaa

But they kept coming. A wave of them, screaming Allahu Akbar , pouring from a compound gate. Hatch’s SAW clicked empty. He dropped the hot weapon, drew his M4, and started picking them off, one by one. Chest, head, chest. It was mechanical. It was survival.

“Suppress! Suppress!” Hatch roared, bringing his SAW up.

“Contact front!” screamed Private First Class Miller, the point man.

“Thirty seconds!” the crew chief yelled over the intercom.

The insurgents, used to breaking the spirits of their enemy with volume, saw these Americans running toward the hellfire. They hesitated. That was the crack in the dam.