They broke cover at 0400 and moved down the bone dry valley to investigate the helo wreck.
”.. we gotta find the green box and the attachments,” Belken said, pointing down to the burned out hulk.
”... nobody’s finding nothing in that pile,” Ayoob hissed between his teeth, clutching the Remington closer to his chest.
They started downward swiftly, with the ease and coordination of men who’ve done it a million times before.
Something moved way up the gradient and Ayoob caught it with his peripheral vision.
“Movement at 180,” the old scout quietly warned.
All five of them killed their movement, went down onto the knee, scanning their sectors, instinctively raising their weapons to the ready position.
The valley was eerily quiet.
“Maybe it was just a goat,” Belken said.
The Somali tribesman aimed his Dragunov sniper rifle at Ayoob and fired.
The large round slammed into the old scout’s left shoulder with a terrifying crushing sound.
“Aimed fire,” Belken shouted.
The ambush was set up perfect and waited …