were taking cover as bullets sparked off the TSV’s superstructure. He couldn’t see Walowski. Perkins was all but lying in the vehicle’s footwell, trying to start it up.
Lumley fired the SA80’s underslung grenade launcher blindly over the top of the sandbag. The teargas grenade wouldn’t provide them with as much cover as the smoke projectors on the TSV, but it was a start.
‘Under the wagon and get the .50 up?’ Psycho shouted at her. Lumley nodded. Psycho popped up and started firing long bursts from the Minimi, hoping to keep people’s heads down. Lumley scrambled across the floor under the TSV and up onto the back of the vehicle. Psycho then had a chance to realise the stupidity of drawing attention to himself in this situation. It felt like everyone in the world was firing at him. He curled up behind the sandbags and tried not to get shot through pure positive mental attitude. It didn’t work. His body armour was taking hits. Each one felt like he’d been hit with a baseball bat. He was glad that he’d upgraded his body armour out of his own pocket.
On the back of the TSV Lumley dragged Geordie out of the way of the .50 cal, racked the heavy machine-gun’s bolt and turned it on the front of the tower block.
Psycho was pretty sure that the slow, rhythmic hammering of the .50 cal was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. The fire slackened off as large holes started appearing in the tower block in explosions of powdered concrete. He was aware of an SA80 firing and then the jimpy started firing as well.
‘Stop firing!’ Perkins screamed at Lumley from the footwell of the TSV. ‘You’ll draw their fire. Stop firing, you stupid bitch, that’s a fucking order!’ Lumley ignored him. ‘I’ll fucking have you shot for this!’
Psycho saw the tracers from the .50 cal and the jimpy flying overhead. Keeping low, he started back towards the TSV, firing bust after burst from the Minimi anywhere he saw muzzle flashes.
Psycho reached the TSV and found Perkins in the footwell on the driver’s side, still trying to start the vehicle blindly. Psycho hit the button for the driver’s side smoke projectors. Four smoke canisters popped out of the tubes angled away from the vehicle. They hit the street and started emitting thick smoke. He grabbed Perkins and dragged him bodily out of the vehicle. Perkins scrambled under the TSV. Psycho unclipped the Minimi from its sling and tossed it into the back of the vehicle and then climbed into the driver’s seat.
Smoke was rapidly filling the street, obscuring the tower block’s view of the TSV.
‘Cease fire!’ Psycho shouted as he started up the engine. If they lit up the smoke with muzzle flashes then the people with guns would know where they were. Lumley and Walker stopped firing and immediately hunkered down as rounds were still sparking off the superstructure. Perkins threw himself into the back of TSV.
‘Drive! Get this vehicle moving, Private Sykes!’ Perkins screamed at him. Psycho put the vehicle into reverse, swung it around ninety degrees and then headed down the street. ‘Walker, Lumley, I need you on the MGs now,’ Psycho shouted. Both of them got up, Walker reluctantly. Lumley swung the .50 round so it was aiming back up the way they had come at the street full of thick smoke.
All of them were thrown forwards as Psycho slammed on the brakes.
‘What the fuck are you doing!?’ Perkins screamed from where he was lying in the back of the TSV. ‘Get this vehicle moving now!’
The two special forces troopers leapt into the back of the vehicle.
‘Appreciate it,’ one of the special forces guys said and started covering out the back of the TSV.
‘I think your friends have had it,’ the other one said. Psycho looked behind him. The top of Walowski’s head was missing. He couldn’t see the wound that had killed Geordie, he just saw the man’s dead eyes staring up at the night sky. Perkins was still screaming at him. One of the special forces guys put their hand on his shoulder.
‘Mate, trust me on this, you need to start driving, okay?’
Psycho nodded and started heading for the FOB. He could see the unmistakable silhouette of the derelict power station ahead of him as he watched the light from the missile’s engines rise into the sky beyond the FOB.
‘Look, we say nothing about it kicking off, okay,’ Perkins said. Nobody answered.
Yeah right, Psycho thought, who would