He yanked the camera strap over his head and pulled the camera fully away from him. With one hand he popped the card slot door of the camera, pulling out the card. With the other, he slammed the camera on the ground.

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Colt downshifted and slammed the throttle to the floor. He cut the wheel to turn into a sand wash, sand spraying up in the air from the tires digging it. He left a rooster tail of dry sand as he accelerated along the wash in the deep powder. The Lambo wallowed back and forth a bit as he sawed the steering wheel around the bends of the dry river.

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A moment later he rounded a corner.  He heard the popping of an AK-47, the sound distinct from the M-4s the US and ASF soldiers were using.  He scrambled backwards as several rounds hit his plates, crab walking as fast as he could. 

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“Someone was too macho yesterday to mention that he had broken ribs.  We went to the doctor this morning to get x-rays.  When he was in the shower last night, there wasn’t even a bruise, but this morning, this,”

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“It’s bad up here, too.  We’ve got maybe a hundred civilians to try to evac, as well as eight UN soldiers that are still alive.  When we get them down there, can we get these people away from the heat down there?”

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Sean was looking over the side and kept disappearing.  When he had the shot, Gunny was supposed to let Melody know, she would give a three-count and both would shoot at the same time. 

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