Risen: Echoes of War

An Exchange of Sorts

By the time the Rangers finally hit, we were feeling pretty twitchy. Nobody could blame us; we had hunkered down to let the Taliban fighters just shoot at us so we didn't give away our numbers with counter fire. That meant a lot of ducking behind whatever cover was available and keeping our weapons trained in case they decided to push into the courtyard in the face of our lack of response.

I was actually a little disappointed that they didn't, apparently content to keep us pinned down. I wouldn't of had much of a problem dropping any of those bastards if they showed their faces. Shooting us out of the air was cowardice at it's worst. You can sure that we were going to make them pay for that.

Unfortunately getting pinned down was leading us to believe that they were either waiting for reinforcements before coming down into the courtyard to take us out. Or they had something a little heavier, like an old Soviet-era tank that they were rolling in on us.

I was starting to anticipate the low 'crump' of a tank firing from distance, followed by the whistle of the incoming ordnance when something exploded from nearby. Then we were hearing M4's opening up from the roof tops, filling the space above us with hollow point death.

"That's our cue," Barry hissed. Then he was rolling to his feet to pound the wall top opposite with cover fire. I quickly slapped Timothy and Zack on the shoulder to get them up and helping the commander. Then a quick stab with stiffened fingers towards the courtyard's embattled entrance sent a platoon carrying Baldwin moving in that direction.

Greene slapped up against the wall closest to us before cupping his hands. Seeing that, I was up and, putting a foot in those hands, let my comrade hoist me high enough to grab the top of the wall and quickly pull myself up. A roll forward and my Colt M4 was up to stencil an insurgent that was sighting down into the courtyard, shoulder against a chimney.

As he spilled over with three holes in the face and upper chest, two more swung around the chimney, AK's already up and firing. I took a round glancingly off the helmet and another in the vest before I managed to drop them both with quick bursts to the chest. Shaking off the grogginess from the round that went off my helmet, I pulled my coil of rope free of my pack and, after looping it around my body to anchor it, tossed the free end down.

The line immediately went taut. Then Greene appeared at the top after a quick climb, joining me with weapons ready as we watched the rooftops for other insurgents. By this point M4's and AK's were trading bursts of fire from several locations all around us as the Rangers moved to flank the enemy's positions.

"Greene, tracking detail," Barry hissed as he cleared the wall next, followed by Timothy, Zack and a couple more of our team. Greene slid forward, rifle ready, followed by Zack and another SEAL while I recovered my rope. Then I was following Barry as he let Greene and the others go along the wall top in an effort to catch up with our guys on the ground.

"50 cal," he said in a low voice as the rest of us angled away from the tracking team, staying in a tight bunch to avoid getting strung out as we traversed angled planes of ceramic tile and plaster-covered stone. With our assault rifles up and ready, we were already aiming at anything moving not in SEAL arid, or Ranger dry country camouflage.

Thus we were on point when we swung around a corner and spotted the 50 cal set up on a tripod overlooking the courtyard, the nest manned by three more insurgents. Our M4's snarled, and all three pitched over in opposite directions, leaking from holes in their heads.

That was when we heard the choppers. We didn't need to see them to know they were old Soviet Mil Mi-24's, designated 'Hinds' by NATO. Basically flying tanks, the Mi-24 could hang there, shrugging off our small arms fire while it pounded us with 80mm rockets, and it's 23mm gun pod.