added.
“I can’t believe that I didn’t have the tree line cleared back,” Mike fumed.
“You can’t think of everything, Mike. It’s not like we were going to be shot at from the tree line,” Everett responded.
“Hey, how about a funnel of death?” Mickey asked.
“What do you mean?” Mike asked, looking over at Mickey. The heads up display painted Mickeys name on him. He wouldn’t have been hard to find, though, since he towered over everybody else.
Mickey pointed at the tunnel, “They’re coming anyway. Might as well open the door for them.”
Mike smiled. It was an elegant, though extreme solution, “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. The infantry is going into the tunnel. We’re going to open the portcullis . . .”
“Are you kidding me?”
Mike couldn’t figure out who that was. Ken singled the voice out, “Joseph, shut up and listen.”
Mike continued, “We’ll have Spec forward, and Sec in the back. If they come down the tunnel, we can fill it with a wall of lead.”
“Claymores?” Everett asked.
“Yeah, if we can get them out there quick enough,” Mike replied.
Jennifer spoke, “You’re not going to have enough time, Mike, the first tree is about to come down.”
Mike’s hearing was enhanced by the helmet. He heard the tree groan as the last roots gave way. He ran to get up against the wall. The others saw him move and quickly emulated him. The sound of the tree crashing against the compound wall was deafening.
Jennifer’s voice called out, “I need a SITREP.”
Mike checked his team and got a green from everybody. He called this into Jennifer.
“Murph, you there?”
“Yeah, man, what’s up?”
“You think you can get the portcullis up?”
“No prob. Joseph.”
“What?”
“Get your lazy ass in gear and help me.”
The two set off up the steps to get the portcullis raised.
Mickey stepped over to the portcullis. He leaned down and grabbed ahold of the rebar.
“You need help?” Mike asked.
The only reply was a low, rumbling chuckle.
They heard a clunk from above as the lock was disengaged. Mickey grunted and the portcullis started up. “Damn Mickey, you going to wait until we help, or you gonna do it all by yourself? Murph asked.
“Just getting it started for you,” Mickey answered.
Mickey got it about waist high, then the portcullis started moving faster as Murph and Joseph grabbed it. They heard Murph kick the latch to secure the portcullis. The team headed into the tunnel.
Mickey and Rob were in the front.
“Not sure that’s a great idea, Mickey,” Mike said.
“What?”
“You being up front.”
“Why?”
“We can’t shoot around you.”
“I say we leave him up front. We can use him for cover,” Rob quipped.
Mickey grumped, “Come on Mike, let me stay in front.”
“No, can’t do it. Tom, you get up there.”
“Gee thanks, Mike.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
They stopped about fifteen feet from the opening. Another tree toppled over. Mike heard confusion over the radio as the Mech team dealt with tree trunks and branches.
“Tom, you think you could foment a little disharmony out there?” Mike asked.
Tom hefted his Sig 716 rifle and answered, “Well, it’s not the Desert Tactical, but at this distance, I think I can probably piss something off.”
“Mind if I help?” Rob asked.
Mike suddenly remembered Murph and Joseph, “Hey Ken, are Murph and Joseph back?”
“Yeah, they just entered the tunnel.”
“Tom, Rob, Stack ‘em up, knock ‘em down.”
The helmet was a problem with standard sights. Infrared lasers turned on, enabling Tom and Rob to target hostiles. The dragon targets were wall to wall red in front of the compound. Tom took a moment, then squeezed off a shot. One of the small, red shapes dropped and started cooling. Rob was next, same result. They started trading shots, back and forth, hammering the hostiles in front of them. As
“I can’t believe that I didn’t have the tree line cleared back,” Mike fumed.
“You can’t think of everything, Mike. It’s not like we were going to be shot at from the tree line,” Everett responded.
“Hey, how about a funnel of death?” Mickey asked.
“What do you mean?” Mike asked, looking over at Mickey. The heads up display painted Mickeys name on him. He wouldn’t have been hard to find, though, since he towered over everybody else.
Mickey pointed at the tunnel, “They’re coming anyway. Might as well open the door for them.”
Mike smiled. It was an elegant, though extreme solution, “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. The infantry is going into the tunnel. We’re going to open the portcullis . . .”
“Are you kidding me?”
Mike couldn’t figure out who that was. Ken singled the voice out, “Joseph, shut up and listen.”
Mike continued, “We’ll have Spec forward, and Sec in the back. If they come down the tunnel, we can fill it with a wall of lead.”
“Claymores?” Everett asked.
“Yeah, if we can get them out there quick enough,” Mike replied.
Jennifer spoke, “You’re not going to have enough time, Mike, the first tree is about to come down.”
Mike’s hearing was enhanced by the helmet. He heard the tree groan as the last roots gave way. He ran to get up against the wall. The others saw him move and quickly emulated him. The sound of the tree crashing against the compound wall was deafening.
Jennifer’s voice called out, “I need a SITREP.”
Mike checked his team and got a green from everybody. He called this into Jennifer.
“Murph, you there?”
“Yeah, man, what’s up?”
“You think you can get the portcullis up?”
“No prob. Joseph.”
“What?”
“Get your lazy ass in gear and help me.”
The two set off up the steps to get the portcullis raised.
Mickey stepped over to the portcullis. He leaned down and grabbed ahold of the rebar.
“You need help?” Mike asked.
The only reply was a low, rumbling chuckle.
They heard a clunk from above as the lock was disengaged. Mickey grunted and the portcullis started up. “Damn Mickey, you going to wait until we help, or you gonna do it all by yourself? Murph asked.
“Just getting it started for you,” Mickey answered.
Mickey got it about waist high, then the portcullis started moving faster as Murph and Joseph grabbed it. They heard Murph kick the latch to secure the portcullis. The team headed into the tunnel.
Mickey and Rob were in the front.
“Not sure that’s a great idea, Mickey,” Mike said.
“What?”
“You being up front.”
“Why?”
“We can’t shoot around you.”
“I say we leave him up front. We can use him for cover,” Rob quipped.
Mickey grumped, “Come on Mike, let me stay in front.”
“No, can’t do it. Tom, you get up there.”
“Gee thanks, Mike.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
They stopped about fifteen feet from the opening. Another tree toppled over. Mike heard confusion over the radio as the Mech team dealt with tree trunks and branches.
“Tom, you think you could foment a little disharmony out there?” Mike asked.
Tom hefted his Sig 716 rifle and answered, “Well, it’s not the Desert Tactical, but at this distance, I think I can probably piss something off.”
“Mind if I help?” Rob asked.
Mike suddenly remembered Murph and Joseph, “Hey Ken, are Murph and Joseph back?”
“Yeah, they just entered the tunnel.”
“Tom, Rob, Stack ‘em up, knock ‘em down.”
The helmet was a problem with standard sights. Infrared lasers turned on, enabling Tom and Rob to target hostiles. The dragon targets were wall to wall red in front of the compound. Tom took a moment, then squeezed off a shot. One of the small, red shapes dropped and started cooling. Rob was next, same result. They started trading shots, back and forth, hammering the hostiles in front of them. As
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