Lt Albert Drake and Nora Richmond are ambushed while at their retreat...Something went Crack! as it passed Al's ear, a half-second later he heard
the report. Without a thought he pulled his carbine up, slapping the bolt
release, leaned forward and went cyclic. The thirty round magazine emptied in just under four seconds. In those four seconds, he swept the muzzle in a 'S' across the source of the rifle report - the cluster of trees.
Pushing Nora, he hit the dirt, uttering a single word, "Ambush!"
The first five rounds from Al's carbine did nothing but heat the air. The next seven caused havoc. One of the standing looters fell backward out of the truck, a good part of his head missing. The other two jackknifed as the bullets slammed into their torsos. They fell dead less than a second later.
One other bullet hit Fat Jim, just as he opened his mouth to curse at Cuz. It was the last thing he ate on this earth. While the round didn't hit squarely, it did tear out the back of his palate, just missing his spine as it exited his neck. It took Fat Jim several minutes to drown in his own
blood.
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