Heavy Fire Afghanistan Review

An A-10 Warthog, low and ugly, pulled out of a dive. Its 30mm cannon carved a line of destruction fifty meters ahead of Hatch, turning the enemy’s reinforcements into a red mist. The shockwave knocked Hatch flat.

Hatch swung his SAW, but the barrel was overheating. The rounds started to keyhole, flying wild. He slapped in a fresh barrel, burning his hand through his glove. He didn’t feel it. Heavy Fire Afghanistan

But they kept coming. A wave of them, screaming Allahu Akbar , pouring from a compound gate. Hatch’s SAW clicked empty. He dropped the hot weapon, drew his M4, and started picking them off, one by one. Chest, head, chest. It was mechanical. It was survival. An A-10 Warthog, low and ugly, pulled out of a dive

A wall of PKM machine gun fire ripped across the riverbed. Tracer rounds, the color of angry orange comets, stitched a line through the dust. Then the RPGs came. The sharp thump-whizz-crack of a rocket-propelled grenade passing overhead made Hatch’s soul flinch. It slammed into a boulder twenty meters to his left, showering the team with hot shale. Hatch swung his SAW, but the barrel was overheating

He pulled out a fresh belt of ammunition, loaded it, and racked the bolt.