Courtesy of Tactical Life
The jihadi tossed one more furtive glance up and around, searching the skies for American drones. The infidels seemed to have a limitless supply of the cursed things, and they could end an ISIS fighter’s life in an instant. He felt the throaty rumble of the powerful diesel engines as the American convey inched its way up the shattered roadway. His lips began to move of their own accord as he softly repeated to himself, “God is great, God is great, God is great…”
His right hand tightened around the pistol grip of his Romanian AKM. His left thumb hovered over the detonator to his suicide vest. When the noise of the MRAP vehicle sounded like it was close enough, he sucked in one last deep breath and pivoted around the corner to face the invaders.
Before the insurgent could react, there came a flash and, in less than two seconds, 130 bullets of the 62-grain 5.56mm variety impacted his chest. The entire burst covered an area roughly the size of a teacup. He was dead before his brain knew he’d been shot.
The c slewed up and forward to resume its scanning around the lead vehicle. The gun’s operator, a 19-year-old Marine from Birmingham, Alabama, was seated comfortably behind a CRT screen within the bowels of the heavily armored truck. The young Marine chuckled in spite of himself. What a freaking mess.
The orbiting drone showed him another upcoming heat signature among the rubble. The lance corporal checked the readout on his rounds remaining and tracked the stubby little Gatling gun toward the target. It looked like it was going to be another fruitful day.
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