Ross pushed up, getting cover by Carl, as he raised his Mk48, his arms and whole body tired out by now. This was getting tiresome, as he set up a position for defense, his comms buzzing again. "We got incoming, Knight. Hold your ground." Andrew said, as he adjusted his rangefinder, seeing the two truck fulls of militants stop further down the mountain, maybe 2km out. They would hit Knight within a couple of minutes, and when it hit, there would be hell to pay. There was six men against perhaps two dozen, but somehow, Andrew could guess that those four down there would be able to take out a fair number and get through this ordeal. "Lock and load, Nolan. I'll clack up the targets. Knight, they look like they've split into about three, one group flanking to your right, two moving either side of the river. Watch your front 180, we don't see any behind." Andrew added, as back down by the LZ, the smoke still flowing out, Ross saw the first few come into sight. The Mk48 barked into life, as Ross aimed down the sight at a few of the men, a stray couple of rounds snagging his chest, as he took out another, before keeping his head down, Ramsay using his HCAR's stable platform to snipe off two more men that were trying to move into cover behind some rocks. "Knight, your transport is one mike out." Ross heard, as he moved back out, firing as he heard the distant sound of the helicopter rumble over the valley side in the distance. Ross kept his head down, and dropped a pair moving to the right hand side, feeling his ammo run a little lower by every round that he fired, giving Carl the opportunity to frag a few more. The helicopter began it's landing pattern, the side gun already opening up and peppering supressive fire across the area. ----- "Contacts, moving up on the right. They're ragheads, no armor, nothing. Range is 750 moving on 670, bearing 050, I count minimum five. There's no crosswind, but 2m/s to the east from us. Fire when ready, drop 'em." Andrew said to Nolan, watching the group move on the other side of the river, watching Nolan get to work, as he didn't use his own rifle just yet- that would come if there was some extra firepower needed against a larger grouping and number of targets. ----- The helicopter came in quick, the Wildcat's skids scraping gravel as the pilot was barely able to keep it in control. It had been a fast landing, as Ross looked to Carl, then at Ramsay. "You fuckers get in. Just shoot like hell in our direction, don't worry if you stray a round! Just do as I fucking say!" Ross said, as the SEAL leader gave the order to his collegue, and they moved back to the helicopter, the door gunner, opening up fire on a group on the left, taking three down as the rest dived into the dirt, getting cover and popping off inaccurate shots. This was a Taliban group- not AQ, it seemed, this was a bunch of goatherders with AKs rather than full on AQ-trained operators with advanced weaponry. Taking out the grouping in front, Ross looked to Carl, as he took a shoulder and helped him move, putting whatever energy he had left. It was hellish- his own weight was enough, but Carl and his armor weighed enough, and while he only had him partially weighted in order to stop his ankle from completely collapsing and get them the fuck out. It was strenuous, and with his helmet off, the effort on Ross's face could be seen, as he rushed towards the door, rounds still flying overhead and a few even hitting the helicopter, the gunner's reponse enough to warrant them time to get in. Hurling Carl in as he let him get a step aboard, Ross threw himself by the gunner's position, laying down whatever fire he could as the helicopter began to dust off, gunfire roaring as Ross laid down whatever he could, the gunner moaning as suddenly a bullet pricked inside. "Fucking hell! To the bloody helmet!" He yelled, as Ross looked, chuckling, as he saw the bullet fragment sit in the well between him and the gunner on the L7A2 in the door, ricocheted off his crew helmet. If that had happened to Ross, he'd be dead- but this guy had it the other way round, a crazy irony. And Ross knew that shock was a natural reaction, but so was his other one. "You'll have kids yet, you crazy bastard." Ross said, as Ramsay chuckled, looking out the door as the Wildcat picked up speed, nose down as they thundered out of the valley, getting the fuck from that area and the rapidly closing set of troops.