<strong>Pvt. Cooper - 3rd Squad</strong><br/><br/>It had been only a couple of seconds. He'd heard that was how real combat was. It wasn't until afterward that you could piece it all together and figure out what happened. In the moment all you got were quick flashes, and a hell of a lot of noise. He saw their two big guns - Gunny and Mathias - go down. But not out. The damn APC was close, but far enough away to be useless. His first instinct was to make a dash for it anyway, to get some cover. Get out of the fight. He choked it down. There couldn't be more than a half dozen of these bastards, and they sure as hell weren't Marines. No fucking way was he going to run away from them.<br/><br/>Instead he dropped to one knee and thumbed the undermount grenade launcher. Just like snowball fights back home. You don't shoot at the snow fort, you drop your shots in over it. And sometimes you put a rock in 'em, just to keep the other guys honest. He didn't have any snowballs with him, but he had a couple of explosive grenades that should work almost as well in a pinch. One over<em>there.</em>One for those two fuckers<em>there.</em>And one skittering across the concrete floor<em>there</em>, between two of the barriers.<br/><br/>Next time, unless he had other orders, he'd stay in the car. There was a big fucking gun on top of the APC that was sitting there as limp and useless as his grandpa's dick.<br/><br/>